#shout out to the person in my tags on that other post with the pizza analogy you’re so right

[galpalaven]

The thing is, I’ve had complaints about shallow companion interactions before for other games that I genuinely enjoy.

FFXIV up until around Shadowbringers did not have anyone ever checking on my character even briefly outside of one or two of the Scions. It effected how I perceived my relationship with them. The difference there is that 1) it’s an MMO and they can only add so much variation and 2) it was eventually addressed and I did finally feel an emotional connection to them.

Veilguard is not the only game I’ve ever been critical of. It’s just the most egregious one right now, especially when they tried to sell me the narrative that it’s the ‘most romantic DA game ever.’ They lied to me and I deserve to criticize it when I spent $90 for what was essentially just some uncooked pizza dough with the toppings on the side while they shrug at me and “just cook it yourself / headcanon it.”

I don’t put my criticism in the main Veilguard tag because I know it can bum people out. If you don’t want to see it, block the “veilguard critical” and “Bioware critical” tags — but stop telling me I have no reason to be angry and I’m just “making shit up to be mad about.” I know how making a game works because I went to school for writing and I know that they just did not do a good job writing this thing, and the decisions they made about where to cut content are silly and ridiculous. To remove dialogue wheels and roleplaying opportunities in favor of like a fkn gladiator arena is stupid.

They made an action game and sold it as a narrative RPG. It’s dishonest and I’m allowed to be annoyed by it.

[galway-girlatwork]

Airwaves

Fandom: The Last of Us-AU-No outbreak.

Rating: Mature-There is SO much fluff. It's a love story wrapped in music. I don't care how cheesy anyone thinks it is. I needed fluff after all the angst I write. Every song in the story has a link to Spotify.

Central Characters: Joel, Tommy, Sarah, Ellie and Maggie (Original Female Character)

Central Relationship: Joel and Maggie

Word Count: 4,301

AO3

Please do not copy my work. If you liked it, please re-blog and tag me. Please do not steal the mood board, it was a gift and stealing is just WRONG. I do not give permission to copy, translate, or post my work to any other platform.

This was inspired by the brain rot I constantly have and an awesome mood board by Aly, @iamasaddie, who prayed for me and the enormous amount of WIP’s I have. Thanks Aly.

Music Inspiration:

Silent Lucidity- Queensrÿche

Airwaves

The radio crackled to life as Joel turned the dial in his truck, the familiar voice of Maggie, the local DJ, filled the cab, smooth, warm, and full of energy, a hint of mischief that always made him smile, even after the longest of days.

“Alright, folks, this next one’s a request from Joel for his two little rock stars, Sarah and Ellie. Here’s Dancing in the Moonlight by King Harvest. Keep dancing, girls!”

Chuckling, shaking his head wondering how Maggie had a way of making every request sound like it came straight from her heart. Sarah, his ten-year-old, loved dancing in the living room, twirling Ellie along until they both collapsed on the couch in giggles and Maggie played the perfect soundtrack to their evenings, even if she didn’t know it.

Pulling into the driveway, he parked next to Tommy’s old truck, waiting for a commercial before getting out. When he opened the front door, the scent of fresh pizza wafted out, the girls running to greet him.

“Dad! Did you hear? Maggie played our song!” Sarah beamed, dark curls bouncing.

��I heard. Y’all thank Uncle Tommy for bringing dinner?” Joel asked, setting his stuff on the kitchen counter.

Ellie, only eight, grinned wide. “Thanks, Uncle Tommy!”

Giving his brother a nod of gratitude before the girls pulled him to the couch, pizza boxes were opened and plates handed out, the radio played softly in the background when Maggie’s voice returned after the song, this time with a track she had picked.

“This one’s for Joel. He said to surprise him, so I went with one of my all-time favorites, Crazy on You by Heart. Enjoy!”

Joel froze for a moment, before leaning back, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “She’s got good taste.” Later that night, the girls tucked into bed, house quiet, Joel sat on the worn recliner in the living room. The faint hum of the radio was his only companion as he sipped on a cold beer. Maggie’s voice came through again, and this time it was softer, more personal.

“Alright, night owls, I’ve got a couple more songs before we wrap things up. But first, I wanna give a shout-out to one of my regulars. Joel, I know you’re listening. Thanks for trusting me to pick a song for you tonight. Here’s hoping it hit the mark.”

His heart did a funny little flip, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. He shook his head, muttering to himself. “You’re ridiculous, Miller.” Still, he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face.

The next day at work, Tommy caught him humming Crazy on You while laying down beams for a new deck.

“You got somethin’ stuck in your head, or you finally thinkin’ about joining a band?” Tommy teased, leaning on a post.

Joel rolled his eyes. “Not joinin’ a band, just... Maggie played it last night. She’s got good taste.”

Tommy smirked. “Ah, Maggie. Ya know ya talk about her more than ya talk about anyone else. When you gonna do somethin’ about it?”

He shot him a warning look. “Do what? She doesn’t even know me.”

“She knows your voice,” Tommy pointed out. “And from what you’ve said, sounds like she likes hearin’ it.”

“Whatever.” But he didn’t argue. By now, his nightly calls to the station were as much a part of his routine as putting the girls to bed.

That evening, after finishing dinner and a board game with Sarah and Ellie, Joel sat down with the phone in hand, the girls in their pajamas, curled up on the couch, waiting for him to make the call.

“Hi, Maggie. It’s Joel,” he said when she picked up. Her voice was just as warm off the air as it was on.

“Hey Joel! What can I do for you tonight? Got another request for the girls?”

“Actually, yeah. Sarah’s been hummin’ Brown Eyed Girl all week. Think you can fit it in?”

“For you? Always,” Maggie replied, and he swore he could hear the smile in her voice. “And what about you, Joel? What’s your request?”

He hesitated, eyes closing for a second, “Surprise me again. You’ve got good taste.”

Laughing softly. “You’re giving me a lot of trust here. Alright, Joel. Tune in. This one’s just for you.”

After hanging up, Joel sat back with the girls, waiting for the song. When Maggie came on, her words carried a little extra something tonight.

“This next one is a classic, but it’s also got a bit of soul. Joel, I think you’ll like it. Here’s Bad Company.”

Joel closed his eyes again as the first chords played, letting the music wash over him. He knew that it was probably all for show, she was a DJ and that is what she did, right? Make everyone feel like she was talking to just them. Yea he was losin it.

Over the following weeks, his nightly calls became a cherished ritual for her. She found herself looking forward to hearing his voice, intrigued by the man who clearly adored his daughters and had a deep appreciation for music. She began teasing him on-air, voice playful as she introduced his requests.

“Alright, everyone, you know the drill. This goes out to my regular caller, Joel. He called earlier for his girls and asked for another surprise song so here’s Silent Lucidity by Queensryche.”

Joel listened with a faint smile, not noticing the looks he was getting from the girls.

“She likes you, Dad,” Sarah declared as they listened together.

Shaking his head as Sarah climbed up on the couch, settling down next to him. “She’s just doin her job and bein friendly.”

Ellie, who’d always been the more serious of the two, shook her head. “Dad she always sounds happy when she talks about you.”

He couldn’t deny how Maggie’s attention made him feel. Her laughter, her playful comments, and the music she chose—it all felt personal, like she’d found a way to reach into his life and he knew it was the craziest thought he could have had as he got the girls ready for bed.

For Maggie, Joel was becoming more than just a regular caller. She’d started to wonder about the man behind the voice. Was he as ruggedly kind as he sounded? What did he look like when he smiled? The mystery only made their nightly interactions more interesting, knowing the single dad with two girls who loved music just as much as he did.

One evening, Joel called the station as usual but this time, she had a surprise for him. “Hey, Joel,” she said warmly. “I’ve got something different for you tonight.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he asked, curious.

“Well,” she began, a hint of shyness in her tone, “the station’s hosting a live event this Saturday at Grady’s Bar downtown. I’m doing a set, and chatting with folks. If you’re around, maybe you can swing by.”

He froze, phone pressed tightly to his ear, not expecting this. “Uh... yeah, maybe. Um I can see if I can get someone to watch the girls.”

Smiling on the other end of the line she doodled on a notepad, wondering what the fuck she was thinking. She’d never asked any listener, personally, to come to an event. “No pressure. But if you do come, it’d be nice to finally meet you. Gotta go but the last song of the night, it’s for you. Night Joel.”

Hanging up, sliding the headphones back on, she took a deep breath. “All right everyone, my times up tonight, you’ve got Crystal coming up to get you through the witching hour but this last song for tonight goes out to Joel and his girls. Be safe out there. Here’s a little Patty Griffin to get you through.”

When Saturday rolled around, Joel found himself nervously adjusting his shirt in the mirror. Tommy had offered to babysit, smirking as he shoved Joel out the door with a teasing smile. Grady’s Bar was lively, the music loud but not overwhelming. When he walked in, he noticed Maggie’s booth was set up in the corner, records spread out in neat stacks, noticing she wore a vintage Doors t-shirt and jeans, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She was not what he was expecting, realizing that it was her voice that captivated him, not what she could look like. He hesitated for a moment before walking over. “Maggie?”

He wasn’t what she’d expected but in the best way. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a quiet confidence and beautiful brown eyes. When he smiled, it was lopsided and a little shy, feeling her heart skip a beat, possibly two. “Joel?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yea. You seem busy.”

“Never too busy for my favorite caller,” Maggie teased, motioning for him to sit. “Order anything you want to drink, it’s on me.”

Joel shook his head, smiling. “Naw you ain’t gotta do that.” When the waitress came by, he let Maggie order first, before letting the server know he’d have a Shiner Bock. They talked for hours, Maggie occasionally ducking away to adjust a track or chat with other attendees, but always returning to him. They shared stories about work, favorite songs, and by the end of the night, he felt like he’d known her forever. As he stood to leave, Maggie slipped a CD into his hands, a copy of Queensryche.

“For your collection,” she said softly. “And maybe... a reason to call me tomorrow.”

Grinning, tucking the CD into his jacket pocket. “You don’t need to give me a reason. I’ll be callin in tomorrow.” Leaving the bar that night with the CD now on the seat next to him, what got him the most was the way Maggie had smiled at him—as if she’d been waiting for him all along. He couldn’t shake the warmth he felt just sitting with her, her laughter, and the way her eyes lit up when they talked about music.

Back home, Tommy smirked as Joel walked in, his good mood evident.

“So? How’d it go?”

Setting the CD on the counter, avoiding his brother’s gaze. “Went fine. We talked. She’s nice.”

Tommy barked a laugh. “Nice? That’s all you’ve got? Come on, Joel, don’t play dumb. You like her.”

Joel shrugged, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “Yeah, I do.”

Over the next few weeks, their nightly calls became something more. Maggie would stay on the line a little longer before playing his requests, asking about his day or teasing him about the girls. He found himself opening up in a way he hadn’t in years, telling her stories about Sarah’s fierce independence or Ellie’s knack for making him laugh.

“Sounds like they keep you on your toes. You’re a good dad, Joel,” Maggie said one night, voice soft over the line. “Girls are lucky to have you.”

Feeling a lump in his throat, not expecting to get compliments like that but hearing it from Maggie meant more than he could explain. “Thanks,” he murmured. “That means a lot.”

Meanwhile, Maggie found herself looking forward to Joel’s calls more than anything else in her day. There was something grounding about him, the way he spoke, steady and calm, with just enough humor to make her laugh. She could picture him easily now, the rough edges of his hands, the warmth in his eyes, the way his smile crinkled at the corners, the scruff of his beard.

“Evening listeners, that last song was a request from April and I hope it got her and her friends in the mood for her birthday dinner. Happy Birthday April. Alright, everyone, it’s time for another live event. This Sunday, we’re doing an outdoor set at Centennial Park. There’ll be music, food trucks, and lots of great company. Bring the family, and come say hi!”

“Dad, we have to go!” Sarah said, practically bouncing. “Maggie’s gonna be there!”

“Yeah! We wanna meet her!” Ellie chimed in; her eyes bright.

He hesitated when he heard the broadcast. Taking the girls to a public event wasn’t something he did often. But Sarah and Ellie, having overheard the announcement, were already buzzing with excitement. Sighing, knowing he couldn’t say no. “Alright, alright. We’ll go.”

That Sunday, the park was bustling with activity, her booth set up near the stage, where live music would happen throughout the day, she’d just started a song, the oversized headphones slung around her neck. Looking up, she spotted Joel almost immediately, grin widening when she saw Sarah and Ellie at his side. “You made it!” she called, waving them over.

The girls ran ahead, their excitement bubbling over, he hung back just a little, watching as she crouched down to their level, introducing herself, asking them about their favorite songs, before handing them huge bubble wands, a soft smile tugging at his lips. Maggie was even better with the kids than he’d imagined—patient, funny, and genuinely interested in what they had to say.

When she stood, he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly not sure what to think of the whole situation. “Thanks for inviting us. The girls were real excited.”

“I’m glad you came. It’s nice to finally meet the girls who have such a large love for music. You know they’re just like you described.” She knew in that instant that it was all over for her. She was falling so hard for him, she didn’t know what the next step was, having been out of the dating scene for years.

For the rest of the afternoon, they lingered near her booth, the girls dancing to the music while they talked, stuffing themselves with corn dogs, funnel cake and lemonade. By the time the event wound down, she realized she didn’t want the day to end.

As they were leaving, she slipped a small piece of paper into his hand. “Call me,” she said with a smile. “Outside the station.”

Joel looked down at the number scribbled in Maggie’s neat handwriting, heart thudding in his chest. “I will,” he promised.

As sat on the back porch, the girls passed out on the couch after crashing from adrenaline and sugar levels bottoming out, he thumbed the piece of paper before he called her. It would be just them, no music in the background, no audience listening in.

“I wasn’t sure you’d actually call,” she teased when she picked up.

Chuckling softly. “Thought about waitin’ a day, but found I couldn’t.”

“Glad you couldn’t,” almost sure her smile was audible. “So, how are Sarah and Ellie? They seemed like they had a blast today.”

“Talked about you the whole way home,” Joel said. “Already askin if we can listen to your show tomorrow night but today caught up the minute we hit the road. Both sleepin now.”

“They’re sweet kids, Joel. You’ve done a good job with them.”

“Thanks. Been hard bein a single dad.”

The conversation stretched long into the night, covering everything from childhood memories to favorite concerts. By the time they hung up, he realized he hadn’t felt this comfortable or this hopeful in years.

A week later, he finally worked up the nerve to ask her out during one of their late-night conversations. “Hey I was wonderin if you wanted to have dinner this Friday, say 6? I know this diner, they got good food, good music.”

“Love to. Meet you there?”

“Alright. See you then.”

When Friday rolled around, he was more nervous than he wanted to admit to anyone including Tommy, who agreed to watch the girls again but making sure he gave Joel a teasing pat on the back as he left.

“Don’t mess up, big brother.”

The diner was cozy, not yet packed with other couples doing the Friday night date thing, a jukebox in the corner and a menu full of comfort food. She was already there, leg bouncing when he arrived. It took her an hour to decide what to wear, going with a faded jean jacket over a simple dress, smiling when she saw him.

“You clean up nice,” she said, standing to greet him.

Joel grinned. “You look great, too.” Sliding back into the booth, the conversation began flowing as she teased him about his preference for older music, while he learned she loved not only the older music but the newer, more eclectic stuff she played.

When the jukebox came to life, Maggie raised an eyebrow, small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “Silent Lucidity?”

“Recently become a favorite.”

By the end of the night, she couldn’t stop smiling. As they walked to their cars, she leaned against hers, hands tucked into her pockets, night air a little heavy with humidity. She couldn’t help but replay the moments over dinner and the way her chest felt tight every time he smiled at her. “This was fun, Joel. I’d like to do it again.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft. “I’d like that too.” Moving towards her, rough callused hands cupped both of her cheeks, tilting her head back, a beat of silence, a moment between them, noticing her eyes briefly dropping to his mouth, the action giving him unspoken permission as hands moved to gently rest on the swell of her hips. Leaning in, lips capturing hers, tender at first, cautious as though he would wake up and it was all just a figment of imagination.

She responded instantly, lips moving against his as she pulled her hands free, fingers now curling into his jacket to pull him even closer, deepening the kiss, confidence growing as she leaned into him, feeling a hand slide up to cradle the back of her head while his thumb brushed over her hip bone. When they finally broke apart, breaths mingling in the night air, cheeks flushed, she looked up at him, noticing the way he stared into her eyes, his name a breathless whisper.

Resting his forehead lightly against hers, he closed his eyes, wanting to remember how sweet she tasted. His hand was still at her neck, as if he wasn’t quite ready to let her go. "I’d like to do that again."

Leaning up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Then you better call me tomorrow."

“I will.”

Over the next few months, the connection between them deepened, finding small ways to fit into each other’s lives. She joined Joel and the girls for dinner, bringing all different kinds of CD’s for music nights, while he sometimes surprised her at the station with coffee during late shifts. She adored Sarah and Ellie, who often dragged her into vicious games of Monopoly, Go Fish and Uno, in which they were absolutely lethal. The trio was quickly becoming a fixture in her life.

They were sitting on her couch after having a movie date at her place, sharing a bowl of popcorn while the credits played in the background. Glancing up at him, before resting her head resting on his shoulder.

“You ever think about what’s next?” she asked.

Joel tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, then said, “This. Us. I know it’s still new, but... I care about you, Joel and the girls.”

Setting the bowl down, he turned to face her. “Maggie, don’t you know how special you are to me? To all of us? I, we, care about you too, more than I’ve been good at sayin’.”

Breath came out in a deep sigh, relief settling in, “I just needed to know.”

Leaning in, he kissed her, slow and deliberate and when he ended it, her forehead against his. “I can’t imagine anyone else I’d want in my life right now but you.”

Her presence in his life quickly became something he couldn’t imagine going without. She blended seamlessly into his little family, not just as someone he cared about but as a meaningful person in the girls’ lives.

He came home from work one Saturday, finding the three of them in the kitchen baking. Flour was everywhere, Ellie’s lips held chocolate at the corners while Sarah was methodically measuring sugar under Maggie’s supervision. Leaning against the counter, arms crossed, he watched chaos unfold.

“You’re really brave takin’ this on,” he said, smirking as Ellie tried to sneak a spoonful of dough.

Laughing, cheeks slightly pink from the warmth of the oven, she shrugged her shoulders. “Figured it was time to show the girls I can do more than play music.”

Stepping close, brushing a streak of flour off her cheek. “I think you’re doin’ just fine.”

Smiling up at him, is when it slammed full force into her body and soul. She was in love with Joel Miller. She wasn’t sure what to do with this feeling that blossomed deep within the confines of her chest, the words never spoken by either of them. Distracted by thoughts, she wasn’t paying attention to the surroundings until Ellie screamed cookies, that she swore out loud pulling a burnt tray of cookies from the oven. “Sorry girls. Good thing I brought enough stuff for us to make up for it.”

He knew in that instant that something wasn’t right. She never swore in front of the girls, even though he knew she had the mouth of a truck driver, hearing her road rage more than once while they were on the phone. She looked distracted, defeated, shoulders slumping just a little, like her heart was no longer in the moment. He didn’t say anything until later that night, after the girls were in bed. “Hey, you okay? You’ve been off since this afternoon.”

“Yea, I’m fine. Just tired I guess. I gotta head to the station. Got the graveyard tonight.” Kissing his cheek, she grabbed her purse and practically ran out the door. It wasn’t until she was sitting at the station, queuing up the next five tracks that she felt like she could breathe normally. “All right all you night owls, I am taking us all the way back to 1961 with a classic by Elvis. So, grab that special someone, hold them close in silent lucidity and tell em how you feel.” As the first few notes of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” came through her headphones, she slipped them off, biting her nails, wondering if Joel was listening since it was past midnight.

Sitting up in bed, back against the headboard, he listened to her, voice lower than normal, sounding almost wounded as she went through her set. It was just after midnight when her voice filled his room, talking about Elvis and the song from the CD she’d given him. That’s when it clicked for him. Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he dialed her number, not the station, waiting for her to pick up.

“Hey, didn’t think you’d be awake.”

“Wanted to listen for a little while before I went to sleep. Maggie, the song you’re playin and the reference…”

“I love you Joel. I don’t know when or how but it just…I realized it this afternoon at the house. I love you. Been in love with you and…”

“Maggie take a breath…I love you too. Think I have been since you played that first song for the girls. Look I know you’re busy at work but I want to talk. Can you come by the house tomorrow?”

“Yea.”

“Play our song?”

“Of course.”

“Wait how do you know what song I’m talking about?”

“Trust me, I just do. Night Joel.” Hanging up, she knew she had to have had the stupidest grin on her face and she didn’t give a flying fuck. She didn’t care if their relationship was cliché and cheesy. She fell in love with him, he fell in love with her and maybe, just maybe there could be a future there. “Well thanks to all my listeners for letting me go down memory lane with that one. Next up is Silent Lucidity by Queensrÿche and then I’ve got a little classic rock comin your way with Boston, The Stones, Aerosmith and Black Sabbath. Stay safe out there.”

A year later, he surprised her with a somewhat quiet dinner at the house. He’d cooked, which involved grilling, all of them sitting at the table, the girls going a mile a minute. Chaos ensued afterwards, with a movie, popcorn scattered everywhere, Maggie offering to clean up while he put the girls to bed. When he came down the stairs, he took her hand in his, leading her out into the backyard, where the record player was set up in the backyard under strands of lights Tommy had helped him hang.

“Joel this is beautiful.”

“Thought I’d do somethin nice.”

Swaying to the music, laughter filling the space between them as they talked, fingers laced together, she kissed the span of skin showing at the base of his throat. “I love you.”

“Maggie,” he began, voice steady but full of emotion, “you walked into my life when I didn’t even know how much I needed you. You’ve made me and the girls so happy. I can’t imagine any of this without you. Marry me?”

Whoa. Wait. What? Pulling away from him, she looked up at him, eyes searching his. “Are you serious?” Watching as he fumbled to pull a ring from the pocket of his jeans.

“Yes, I’m serious Maggie May, marry me.”

“Yes, Joel, yes and yes.”

Just then both girls burst out from behind the sliding door, giggling as they tackled both of them in a hug, all of them now laying in the grass, laughing, both of them knowing it was going to be a chaotic mess until their dying days.

[defectivehero]

“Well, shit,” the villain groans, pinching the bridge of their nose. They blink several times, to the hero’s confusion. Their gaze remains fixed on a point on the ground near their feet. “Might as well turn myself in now.”

“What?” the hero sputters, confused by the sudden turn of events. They look around to see if they missed something. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, to their knowledge.

“My glasses,” the villain sighs, pointing to the smashed spectacles near the hero’s feet. “My eyesight is horrible without them.” The hero looks down at the ground at their feet, lifting a shoe and revealing a mess of cracked glass. They look back to the villain and find that, sure enough, their enemy is squinting. The hero resists the urge to groan. 

“Come on, I doubt it’s that bad,” the hero sighs, crossing their arms over their chest. An idea comes to their mind. It’s not a great idea, but it’s an idea nonetheless. “How many fingers am I holding up?” For a painfully long amount of time, silence stretches across the space. The hero holds up three fingers patiently, waiting for the villain to reply. When their enemy finally does respond, what they say is entirely unexpected. 

“On second thought, I’m just going to punch you,” the villain hisses, stepping forward. The hero grimaces and turns on their heel to run away, ignoring the shouts of their enemy behind them. 

[©2022 @defectivehero​ All Rights Reserved]

endnotes after the cut :)

it’s so annoying (in my opinion) when people say shit like “how many fingers am i holding up?” or, as they’re trying your glasses on: “wow, how can you even see out of these?!” it’s��also super predictable??? idk the moment someone asks to try on my glasses i immediately stiffen... like... no. if i wanted to hear how bad my eyesight is, i would go to the eye doctor. not you 💀💀 /lh

also i know the copyright thing may seem unnecessary but i find it easier to use than simply putting “not a prompt” in the tags. I'm more confident posting shorter pieces with the copyright statement than the simple tag, because there’s less of a chance of someone misinterpreting my writing as available for use. yuh. I've gotten comments saying “bUt thIs lOoKs lIke A prOmpT tO mE” and I'm just sitting here like -_-. i don’t think that preventing people from copying and/or using my writing is selfish, but some seem to think it is. ah well.  

[ plus the prompt tag usually boosts engagement and I want to use it but, at the same time, I feel like tagging it as such makes people think they can use it. ah, whatever. engagement isn’t most important to me, anyways... sorry, I'm rambling. ]

last note,,, I would like to remind everyone of my absolute patheticness (I know that’s not a word but it is now.) okay sO story time my dad made bratwurst for dinner the other night and we have leftovers in the fridge. I planned to have a brat for dinner but when I walk out to the kitchen, the brats are out on the counter... they had been sitting there for like three hours since my brother ate them for lunch meaning they were spoiled...so with my mind set on a brat,,, i had to change my mind to an omelette. sO I went out to the kitchen and started getting the cooking stuff out,,, only to open the eggs and find that THERE WAS ONLY ONE>>> i was so furious lol... so i thought “well fuck it” and grabbed one of the frozen personal pizzas we have... and microwaved it (because i was too hungry to wait for the oven plus the box recommended microwave).. three minutes later i find that the pizza box is a FAWKING LIAR and that shit is not microwaveable in the slightest... so I gave up and reheated some shrimp fried rice.... yeah. it was so pathetic. like idk how i managed to fuck up a microwaveable pizza but 

[not this being longer than the snippet 💀💀]

[avengerchuck]

I’m not familiar with the animatronic side of tumblr but where would be the best place to find more info on obscure animatronics?

Obscure animatronics, huh? That’s a toughie…but I’ll try my best!! Welcome to the family ^_^

First and foremost, I’d like to shout out @animatronicappreciation ! Most of the blogs I follow are cec/rock-afire centric, but this one is all over the place. If it’s an animatronic, it counts.

Two other blogs that come to mind are @junkyarddook / @animatronic-robots ! There’s also the “botblr” and “animatronic” tags…that is, if you’re alright with combing through a bunch of furby and fnaf content respectively. I personally recommend looking into The Moonrockers, Dandy Bear, and Tex Critter’s- those are some of my all time favorites when it comes to more obscure discoveries.

I’ll leave this post open to self promotion as well! Drop a response if I missed you :o)! I’m not as well versed in the non-Showbiz pizza time animatronic community as I should be!

[bebepac]

Falling For You

I am participating in @wackydrabbles​ Prompt # 94 courtesy of @rookie-ramsey​  “I’m giving you one last chance.” which will appear in bold.

This is also chapter 4 of The Meet:  To catch up on what you’ve been missing, please click:  The Meet

The Book:  TRR

Pairing:  Liam x Jilian (Liam x F!OC) / Leo x Bebe? (Leo x F!OC)

 Warnings: profanity, I think.   Fluff.  I really think Drama Whore is locked in a basement somewhere.  

Leo, Liam and Maddy belong to pixelberry.  Jilian belongs to my friend @queenjilian​ , and all others are my own characters to help support our story.

Summary:  Jilian and Liam celebrate their six month anniversary.  Leo shows up to Bebe’s apartment unannounced.  

A/N:  This took a different turn than originally anticipated.  Thank you @dcbbw​ for giving me an idea to rework a section, and @queenjilian​ as I feel we talk about this series daily.

This keeps taking a turn on me guys.  I’m sorry I don’t outline.  But I guess that is part of the magic here too.

Word Count: 1496

ORIGINAL POST DATE: 05/11/21 at 12:15PM EST.

He couldn't help but stare.  She was so beautiful, even while she was sleeping.  

"Liam, don't be creepy."

Jilian opened her eyes looking at him.

Liam’s mannerisms turned incredibly bashful.

"I can't help it.  You're a vision.  I am completely enamored by you, Jilian Winchester. Happy six month anniversary.   I have something for you.”

Jili gasped. Her work schedule the past few weeks had been so hectic she had totally forgotten the date. That night was the first time in several weeks they had actually been able to see each other.

Jili was panicked.  

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t realize the date.. Work has been so crazy. I know that’s not an excuse.”

He held out his gift for her.  She felt guilty.

“I don’t have anything for you Liam. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not the reason you give a gift to someone Jili."

He pulled the small perfectly wrapped jewelry sized box out of the dresser.

Jili sat up in bed, the covers drifting a bit revealing bare skin, to which Liam's eyes quickly fell upon.

"Jili, your body is present enough for me.  You are absolute perfection."

She opened the box.  Inside was an adorable charm bracelet.  

The charms on the bracelet were all medical inspired.  There was a medical bag, a stethoscope, a little ambulance, and she took particular time with the caduceus.  

“This is a beautiful gift.”  

“I see you’re staring at the Caduceus. Did you know….”

“It’s Greek.  The symbol goes back to Greco-Egyptian mythology.”

Liam’s eyes flashed in interest.

“Greece has always been on my bucket list, Liam.  I’m going to make it to Santorini someday. What I’ve seen of it in movies and in books,  I have to see that in real life.”

“And you will.  Maybe I’ll make it there with you.”  

“Maybe. Thank you for the beautiful gift.”  

“Anytime love.”

His lips met hers again in a sultry kiss.  Jili melted in his arms, falling back into the pillows. 

 She could be late for work once.  

Liam at dinner that night couldn’t be more sweet and romantic.  The flowers, the music and the dancing.  He just made her feel like she was the only woman in the world when he looked at her the way he was at that moment.      

“How do you do it Liam?”

“Do what?”  He questioned her.

“Make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world?”

“That’s easy Jili.  You are.”

Liam paid for the check and Jili booked the rideshare back to her place.   While Liam was in the restroom she got a text from the driver saying they had arrived.

“Shit!”  Jili ran out of the restaurant, texting Liam “Silver Honda accord “

She jumped into the honda.

“I’m sorry!  My boyfriend will be out in a second.”

“Jaiden Brooks?”  

“No.”

Jili glanced at her phone.

“I was sure it said silver honda accord.”  

“It is.. But there’s also one behind us.”

“And you’re not Chloe.”  

The man chuckled.  “I’ve been called a lot of names in my life,  Chloe is not one of them.”  

Jili jumped out of the vehicle barreling head first into a guy.

“Whoa, moonlighting as an offensive lineman?”  

“It’s how I went pro.”  Jili flexed her muscles.

He laughed, his soft brown eyes twinkled.  

“You take it easy now.”

“Likewise.”  

She smiled as she walked to the second Silver Honda Accord.  

Still in earshot she heard a woman come up next to him.  

“Are you serious Jai?”

“What?”  He seemed genuinely confused.

“You’re flirting and looking at some random chick right in front of me?”

Jaiden looked exasperated.  “Carmen, I wasn’t looking at her!!!!!  She ran into me, I was polite to her, that’s all.”

“You would say that now that you’ve been caught.”  

She pointed her manicured finger at him.

“I’m giving you one last chance.”  

“I WASN’T LOOKING AT HER!!!!  Carmen, you're my girlfriend!!!!”  

They climbed into the car, and Jili was sure their argument was far from over.

Liam joined her a few moments later, pulling her into his arms.  

“I’m glad we have such a healthy relationship.”

“What brought this on?”

“I just saw this couple.  I ran into the guy by accident.  The girl immediately accused him of cheating.”  

“Well…. Maybe he gave her a reason to, in their past.”  

“He really didn’t seem like the type.  He cracked a corny joke.  Seemed really kind.”

“We’ll never know Jili.”  

Author’s note:  Ohhhh But we will.  We’ll know all about Jaiden Brooks at a later date…

Bebe was out in the bar with Leo.  Something they did from time to time.  They have been a wing man/woman for each other  several times now.  That night  she had been a wing woman for him. He was chatting up a cute blonde.  Things looked to be going well for him.  He gave Bebe a wink.

She gave him a thumbs up, studying the two continuing to flirt.   The girl was cute and petite, and appeared to be hanging on Leo’s every word. He seemed interested, and they looked cute together.  

Her stomach grumbled.  Was it the foreshadowing of her monthly monster coming to wreak havoc on her life for the better part of the week rearing its ugly head early?

Bebe winced at the pair.  Tears filled her eyes.

What was that feeling?  She didn’t like it.  Had to be the cramps. She shrugged it off.

Her work was done for the night.  Leo had settled her tab, and would be leaving shortly with Ms. Blondie.  

Bebe headed for home herself, the weird feeling still tugging at her heart, her stomach still feeling a mess.

She didn’t hear from Leo for a few days.  

Until he texted her late that afternoon.

‘Sup Girl?’

‘Nothin’ much.’

‘Can I come over?’

‘Not in the mood.’

‘I didn’t ask for that. You know we have emojis for that.’

She laughed.

‘Not tonight Leo.’

Thirty minutes later there was a knock on her door.  Bebe dragged herself off the couch.

Leo had two bags of goodies.

“I got you your favorite.  Mint chocolate chip, some chocolate syrup, and your white chocolate kit kats you love, and there’s a meat lovers pizza on the way, and I got root beer and Funjuns.”  

“Leo?”  

“How did I know?  As much as I’m around, I kind of know when you go M.I.A, and why. So can I come in?”  

Bebe glanced down at herself.   She was in a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a Hartfeld Heels tee shirt.  

“You look fine, now let me in! This ice cream is going to melt.”

It was the first time Leo had been over to her place, not for sex.  

“So what are we watching?”

“The Time Traveler’s Wife.”  

“Ahhh chick flicks. Bring it on.  I’m going to put this in the freezer unless you want it now?”

Bebe took the mint chocolate chip ice cream, and syrup away from him.  

“We’re doing dessert first, I can dig it. So am I.”  

Leo liked butter pecan and had brought himself a carton as well.  He put the rest of the items on the table until the pizza arrived.

“I’m getting comfortable then alright?”

“That’s fine.”  Bebe shouted when he walked into her bedroom.  

Leo came back after a minute in her pink leopard print robe.  

She shook her head at Leo.

“What?!?!?!  I see why you bought it.  I like the way it feels on my skin.”

Leo was truly something else.

“That’s probably the pizza.”  He went to the door in the robe zero fucks given. Bebe roared in laughter.  Leo just didn’t give a damn about anything.  

Bebe found herself fishing for details.  “So I thought you’d be hanging out with Miss blondie.”

“Meh. Maddy was alright.  But she really didn’t have much of a personality.  I won’t be seeing her again. Why were you jealous?”

Bebe shrugged it off in a nonchalant way.  “No. Not at all.”  

“Trying to keep Mr. not all of him is fun sized for your own personal enjoyment?”

She hit him laughing.   She nudged his shoulder.  

“Thanks for coming over and hanging out with me.”  

He nudged her back.  “Anytime.”  

He put his arm around Bebe and both focused on the movie.  Later she relaxed to resting her head in his lap.  He softly played in her hair.  

She heard Leo sniffling towards the end of the movie. 

She glanced up at him.

“Leo, are you crying?”

“No.”  He quickly wiped his eyes.  

"The tin man really does have a heart."

"It's a sad story okay. Why couldn't they just live happily ever after?"

"That's not the way life is."

"It should be. You should be able to be with the one you want.  That wants you."

She sat up looking at Leo.

Bebe giggled. "When did you become such a hopeless romantic?"

Leo softly stroked her cheek.   

Bebe stopped giggling abruptly as she gazed into his eyes.  

There was so much fire and passion in Leo’s eyes, that Bebe gasped.

Leo’s signature smirk crossed his face, as he leaned in and claimed Bebe’s lips that were in a seductive pucker for his own.  

Tags in the comments!

[achubbydumpling]

Consider this: slightly chubby office worker bucky and lean, muscular steve who has a huge crush on him.

They work in the same department so Steve is always sneaking him food and rubbing his belly for him. Poor bucky keeps outgrowing his shirts and his pants barely go over his ass anymore but he doesn't wanna stop.

Bucky finally has to work from home when he gets too big for his office chair and his belly is almost constantly hanging out. All thanks to steve, of course.

Hello! I'm sorry for only answering this now, buuuuut this ask made me think of a very specific scenario for some reason? So, I hope you'll enjoy reading this... imagine? ficlet? this is neither edited nor proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes

Alright, I immediately jumped to Bucky working from home because he's outgrown his office chair. Maybe he hit the weight limit, maybe he's just gotten too wide to comfortably fit between the arm rests. Maybe he’s a gainer in this? In any case, he applies to work from home, and they grant him the request (anything to facilitate the kink, right? :D)

Rating: Mature Words: 1638 Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Stuffing, Belly Kink, nicknames (pig), allusions to masturbation, mutual pining, maybe slight dub-con (Bucky doesn't know he's unmuted and Steve doesn't tell him right away)

The only requirement is that he has to be "on call" the entire workday. So, the next week on Monday Bucky sits down at his desk at home and logs in to the program his company makes him use for those calls.

And of course Steve picks up. The guy Bucky has had a not so subtle crush on since basically his first day. The blue eyed, blond haired subject of all of Bucky’s dreams, who is also the guy that Bucky has been eating his weight in junk over, because Steve keeps bringing in baked goods and Bucky can never say no to Steve.

On the other end of the call Steve is nervously chewing on his pencil until he finally hears Bucky’s warm voice say “Good morning.” A huge grin appears on his face without him wanting it to, but this is Bucky. So, of course he’s grinning like a maniac.

Bucky is just… Steve had tried to explain it to Nat once, but all he’d gotten out was a stupid “wow”, while grinning the same way he was right now. So, maybe he had a bit of an office crush, it’s normal when you spend 8h a day together, right? Bucky’s video feed is off and Steve is glad he didn’t stupidly turn his own camera on. He was debating it while he waited for Bucky’s call.

“So, do I just do my work, while I stay on this call or…?” Bucky asks when Steve didn’t respond. Steve scrambles out of his daydreams and nods. Then he remembers to actually say “Yes.”

“Alright,” was all that Bucky said and then the little red mute symbol pops up. Steve groans and rubs his hands over his face to get rid of that stupid smile.

“What’s up?” Bucky chimes back in, when Steve yelps in surprise, he adds, “you didn’t mute yourself. I could hear you… being annoyed, I think.”

“Sorry, Mondays.”

“Yeah,” Steve hears something crunching, “though my day has actually been pretty good so far.”

“Are you eating breakfast right now?” Steve looks at the clock—9:03 am.

“Nah, post-breakfast snack. I was craving something crunchy like those pig's ears you brought in on Friday.”

“That just sounds disgusting. Just call it a palm heart or a palmier.” Steve said the name of the pastry in a French accent in an effort to make Bucky laugh and when he did, his heart fluttered with a burst of warmth.

“Well, I’m having some cereal to make up for not having any pastries around.”

“Some?” Steve asked. He sobered quickly at the mention of what Bucky was actually eating, he hated how badly he was hiding his excitement at hearing what Bucky was eating. He’d been “subtly” pushing food on him since Bucky had first started working at the office. Steve doesn’t know a lot about flirting, but providing food seemed like a natural place to start.

Except he’s been stuck there for close to a year now. Every day he’d promise himself to finally ask Bucky out when he brings him one of the pastries, he brought in from that bakery on his way to the office, but when he’s actually looking at Bucky’s face, that lights up when he sees the sugary treat, Steve can never work up the courage and just slinks back to his own desk. And now Bucky wasn’t even in the office anymore.

Because you’ve fattened him up too much, a traitorous voice whispers in the back of Steve’s mind. It not like Steve was forcing Bucky to eat what he brought in, but all those treats right there in the break room surely weren’t helping with Bucky’s expanding waistline. Or those lunches they started taking together, where Steve always suggested they go out to eat instead of sharing a packed lunch in the break room. So, yeah, Steve wasn’t really at fault. Then why did he feel so goddamned proud whenever he saw Bucky’s shirts getting too small and the armrests on his chair digging into his plush sides?

Steve snaps back to reality when Bucky starts talking again.

“Just a bowl-full. Well, this is my second bowl, but cereal is pretty much mostly air, right?” They talk (argue) about what’s the best cereal after that, then what Bucky had for breakfast and then they somehow spend the entire morning talking like Bucky was still in the office and not all the way across town. Bucky refills his bowl twice before lunch rolls around at noon.

“Well, I’ll see you after lunch.” Steve reluctantly leaves his desk.

“I’ll be here!” Bucky calls before Steve takes of his headphones and heads into the breakroom to scarf down his lunch. He knows Bucky will probably only get back on the call once he has to work, but some small part of Steve hopes that if he eats fast enough he’ll get to spend at least part of his break chatting with Bucky.

When he makes his way back to his desk, Steve pops his headphones back on, plops down on his chair and immediately freezes at what he’s hearing. Bucky isn’t muted. Steve is listening to Bucky eat some kind of pasta dish, a very saucy pasta dish from the noises he can hear every time Bucky takes a bite and sucks the spaghettis he missed into his mouth. This is Steve’s personal hell, he thinks, it can’t get any worse than this.

Steve is just about to tell Bucky he’s unmuted when he hears him say, unmistakably, “Fucking pig.” It can get worse.

“Such a fat fucking pig.” Bucky muffles his moan with another mouthful of food. He must be close to finishing his food Steve thinks, then he blushes at realising he knows what Bucky sounds like when he’s getting full.

Bucky’s headphones must be lying on the desk, because they pick up the slide of skin on skin perfectly and Steve leans closer to his monitor even though there isn’t an image. He presses his hands over his headphones to make sure he hears all the little sounds Bucky is making and then he jolts back when Bucky burps loudly.

Steve’s eyes scan the office to make sure no one saw him jumping around on his chair like a scaredy cat, but no one is around. No one is around to see Steve listen very intently to his co-worker eating lunch. Stuffing himself.— Brain.Steve scolds himself, but then Bucky moans again and Steve can’t help but scoot his chair closer. One, to hide his growing erection and two, because logic has left his brain and he needs to get closer to hear better apparently. Steve turns up the volume and then takes his headphones off to make sure it’s no so loud that anyone walking by could hear the sound.

“Fuck, so good,” Bucky groans and Steve can hear his cutlery cluttering onto the desk. He can hear clothes rustling and suddenly the sound of Bucky rubbing his hands over the taut skin of his belly is back. It overtakes the connection for a long moment, that and Bucky’s shallow breathing.

“Best penne and pizza? Yeah, I can believe that.” Steve can hear Bucky’s chair groaning under him. Three suffering clicks from the chair and another pained belch from Bucky.

“If you keep eating like this you’re gonna get fat, Barnes.” Bucky chuckles to himself, “well, fatter.” Bucky exhales heavily, Steve can hear him shift again and his breathing gets heavier.

“Only thing missing is dessert. That’d make a real glutton outta me, not just overeating at lunch, but eating more sugar after,” Steve hears the familiar sound of Bucky popping his button to get comfortable, but Bucky doesn’t stop there, Steve hears the zipper being pulled down too. Steve’s heart skips a beat. Is he gonna—

“Get some feeder to bring it to me, some rich chocolate cake. No, ah, those little cake pops, that— that Steve brought in.” Steve holds his breath when he hears his own name in Bucky’s voice, the emphasis Bucky puts on his name.

“Steve—” He hears a bottle cap being snapped open. Ok, nope, this is too far, Steve decides and reaches for the mouse.

“Oh, my God, Bucky. You’re unmuted!” Steve just about shouts into the microphone. He immediately hears something clatter to the floor and then Bucky swearing.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I was just— This isn’t what it looks like. I’m— I was— How long were you listening?” The tips of Steve’s ears are burning and the blush is working it’s way down over Steve’s face.

“A few— just a bit. You said my name.” Steve adds, hopeful, even though Bucky was probably more worried about his co-worker almost catching him jerking off. Listening to him jerk off.

“Great, are we going straight to HR or is tomorrow fine?” Bucky asked resigned.

“How about dinner?” Steve didn’t know where he plucked the courage from, but when Bucky didn’t answer right away whatever ounce of courage had possessed him left just as quickly.

“I’m sorry—"

“No. No, yeah, that’s fine. Great! That sounds good.” Bucky floundered a bit but Steve couldn’t wipe that grin of his face again.

“Tonight?” Bucky added.

“It’s a date.”

[spencers-renaissance]

Start With This

Summary: Luke accidentally hurts Spencer because they are both hopelessly stupid, but when Spencer's faced with a dangerous situation there's nothing he wants more than Luke. Calling him turns out to be a very good decision.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Making Up, Getting Together

Pairing: Luke x Spencer

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: implied/mentioned sexual assault, more detailed cw on the end notes of the AO3 post <3

Read on AO3

Luke knows he’s getting obvious. His subtlety has completely thrown itself out the window, his dignity’s in the wind, and he’s so, so painfully aware of it all. 

He was probably in love with Spencer before he even met the man: his reputation had preceded him -- as he’d told him that first day in the briefing room -- and the way his friends talked about him, the gentleness he seemed to possess along with the dynamite intelligence of a 187 IQ had his stomach fluttering as he walked in to meet him for the first time. And hadn’t that just sealed the deal. 

Spencer’s face as he walked into the room feels like it’s been permanently burned into the back of his eyelids ever since. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting but it certainly wasn’t someone so adorable. He’d been so open and welcoming and they’d hit it off straight away, every look shared between them, every joint task on the case in Arizona had him buzzing with excitement. If he could spend every waking moment with Spencer, he would. 

And he’s been so good at keeping it under wraps, but lately the looks the girls and Rossi have been sending his way are a bit too… knowing. Like they see right through him. It’s terrifying, really. He’s never had a bad coming out story, mostly because he didn’t until his late twenties when it was much less taboo to be gay and he was surrounded by people who cared far too much about him as a person to care about who he fucked. But he’s also never had a crush on a coworker before, not even a friend, so to be under so much scrutiny in a situation that feels so out of his depths is overwhelming to say the least.

The next case they take on, then, he takes extra caution to be subtle. He volunteers to pair up with others before Emily can assign him something with Spencer; he ignores the looks he directs his way and leaves him behind to room with JJ while he pairs up with Steven. Maybe it’s even more obvious, maybe the looks he’s getting now are far harder to deal with than the ones before but he’s made his bed. Now he’ll lie in it.

And he’ll pointedly refuse to acknowledge the hurt looks Spencer is shooting his way. It’s better to ruffle a few feathers now and get over his crush than ruin such a good friendship and drive a wedge through the team, even if his gut twists and his heart protests as Spencer furrows his brow and looks at his feet.

★

Spencer is fully aware that his chances with Luke are slim to none -- he’s not delusional -- but boy does it hurt being avoided like the plague. It takes him back to school, when he was either politely ignored, mocked from a distance or straight up bullied, when nobody could associate themselves with him without risking a beating of their own. 

As soon as the case is over, he declines Emily’s invitation to go for a drink at her place with the rest of the team, instead opting to go out by himself. There’s a small, hole-in-the-wall joint a few blocks from his apartment that he’s been to a few times; it’s low-key and reasonably quiet, and the food is nice, too. It’ll do him good, he thinks, to get out of his head a bit with a few drinks and a book or three. He’s met the guy who owns the place a few times, and no-one pays enough attention to care that he’s reading a book at a bar instead of solemnly staring into a pint or gyrating on the dance floor, neither of which especially appeal to him.

As predicted, the bar is quiet, so he orders a drink and some nachos and heads to a table in the back. He used to hate bars; so full of people and germs he tended to avoid them at all costs. Now though, he finds the background noise soothing, the chatter and music a comforting backdrop to his own isolation. And on days like today, after difficult cases and tricky emotional minefields to navigate, it’s the perfect setting to sit quietly and read, far more preferable than the deafening silence of his apartment. 

For some reason, though, he simply cannot get his mind off Luke. He was so hopelessly gone for him and it was making everyday tasks that much harder. Even psyching himself up to get out of bed and go to work was proving more and more difficult: knowing he would have to face the man he loved so much who clearly did not love him back was bordering on psychological torture at this point. 

His one saving grace, though, was that he’d always been able to take refuge in the fact that they were friends. That even if he could never have Luke kiss him or take him on a date or sleep in his bed, he could have his friendship. He’d have the warm smiles and hugs and inside jokes and that would be enough. But now even that was seeming like a farflung pipe dream. Had he figured him out? Did he realise Spencer’s feelings for him and feel disgusted? Violated even? 

It’s only after Spencer’s been reading the same page over and over for nearly 10 minutes that he gives up and orders another drink. If he can’t distract himself, he may as well drown his sorrows now he’s here. 

And drown them he does. He finally stumbles onto the pavement outside the bar in the small hours of the morning feeling a little dazed and confused, and he squints his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. He lives round here, he knows that much, but where? He’s looking around for a taxi when a man he’d seen sitting not far from him in the bar approaches him. 

“Hey, baby,” he grins, checking Spencer out as obviously as he’d been doing inside.

It takes Spencer’s mind only a few seconds to recognise that he’s in a potentially vulnerable or dangerous situation but he can’t for the life of him sort through his muddled brain fast enough to figure out the correct response, here. Instead he stares dumbly at the man in front of him, trying to not look as scared as he feels. 

“You looking for a good time?” the man asks, reaching a hand forward to pet crudely at his face. Spencer wishes his flinch wasn’t so obviously borne from terror, but he’s sad and drunk and confused so all he can do is shake his head aggressively and back away. “Aww, come on. I’m a catch, I promise.”

Spencer jumps back further, his back hitting a brick wall as he finally finds his voice. “No, leave me alone, thank you,” he says, trying to sound firm but only sounding scared shitless. The man is huge, Spencer is not, and the street is quiet. Spencer does not like any of these variables, let alone a cocktail made from them. 

The man laughs cruelly, but before he gets a chance to respond another beefy guy he recognises from inside the bar comes over, cigarette in his hand, and clocks the situation. “Oi,” he shouts aggressively, approaching the two of them. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Dude said no.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

Before Spencer can blink, the beefy guy punches his assailant square in the eye, causing him to cuss them both out before telling Spencer he isn’t even worth the trouble and leaving to lick his wounds. “Hey, you okay?” the beefy dude asks, voice much softer when talking to Spencer. “You need me to call someone?”

At this moment, the only person Spencer wants is Luke. He’s shaken up and so sad, and even if Luke is sort of the reason for that, he has to try, right? Maybe… maybe he just was having a bad day and it isn’t Spencer at all. He could call JJ but even her cuddles wouldn’t scratch the itch that’s burning away at his skin, so he finally shakes his head at the guy looking at him with concern. “No, no it’s okay,” he says slowly, voice catching a little. “I know who to call.”

★

Luke also says no to Emily’s invitation, instead heading back to his own place and cracking open a bottle of wine before plonking himself in front of the team and appreciating the cuddles Roxy chooses to bestow on him. He throws in an oven pizza sometime around 11pm and eats it, laughing humourlessly at the scene for a moment. God, if his colleagues could see just how pathetic he is Emily would have to boot him off the team. 

The wine and the warm temperature of the room have him dozing off on the sofa by midnight but he’s woken up abruptly by his phone ringing not long after. The clock on the wall says 1.50am so this is either a case or an emergency; blearily he picks it up to see Spencer’s name on the screen and he can’t slide his finger to answer it fast enough. 

“Spencer?” he asks, voice full of concern. 

The only reply is a choked off sob, making Luke sit up on high alert. “Spence, what’s wrong?” his voice is gentle but determined, he wants to know what’s wrong so he can fix it damnit.

“Can you-- Can you come and get me?” Spencer asks tearfully. He sounds hesitant like he thinks Luke might say no or be angry with him which doesn’t make any sense. He’d never feel like that, not for anything Spencer needs from him. 

“Of course,” he reassures him, gently, still a little bewildered by the absurdity of it all. He springs into action and leaps off the sofa, slipping into some trainers and grabbing his keys. “Where are you, Spence? I’m on my way to the car.”

Spencer rattles off an address before he says, “Wait, don’t go, can you stay on the phone with me?”

Luke’s heart damn near melts at that but he obeys and stays on the phone with him, mumbling platitudes and promising he’s on his way the whole five minute drive until he pulls up in front of the address Spencer gave him, immediately spotting the younger man hunched down against a wall. He parks the car quickly and rushes over, crouching down in front of Spencer and gently pulling his head away from his knees so he can look into his eyes. He immediately recognises he’s drunk and sighs internally, hoping this won’t be too impossible. 

“Hey, Spence, what’s going on?” he asks earnestly, holding onto the man’s forearms partially to help steady himself and partially to offer a noninvasive point of contact for Spencer. 

“Sad,” Spencer says, looking into Luke’s eyes with wide, honest eyes. “You’re angry at me.”

“What?” Luke asks incredulously. “I’m not angry at you, Spencer.”

“Yes,” Spencer nods enthusiastically. “You wanted to work with other people on the case today. You were ignoring me.”

He’s not quite slurring his words but it’s close, and if Luke wasn’t so concerned about the situation at hand he’d find it adorable. “Oh, Spencer, no,” he protests, a sinking feeling in his chest. His own insecurities and fears had got the better of him and he’d managed to make Spencer feel bad about himself. “That was unrelated and not your fault at all, okay? It’s complicated and definitely not a conversation to have on the ground outside a bar at 2am, but we can talk about it somewhere else if you’d like. Do you want me to take you back to your place?”

Spencer looks back at him. “No, don’t want to be alone, please don’t leave me on my own, Luke,” he says, eyes wide in fear this time, not honesty. 

“Okay, okay,” he placates him. “Would you like to come back to mine?”

Spencer launches forward to hug Luke, burying his face into his neck and Luke takes the opportunity to relish the feeling of Spencer’s lithe body against his own, the intimacy he craves so deeply finally being awarded in a small way. “Should I take that as a yes?” he chuckles.

As soon as they get into Luke’s apartment, he gets to sobering Spencer up. He’d managed to pry the number of drinks he’d had out of him in the car, and as soon as they get back he butters him some toast and gives him a glass of water to drink on the sofa while he fills up another glass and grabs some advil. 

“How’s that, Spence, are you okay?” he asks softly as he joins him on the sofa where Spencer is dutifully munching down the toast while late-night TV plays in the background. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, smiling up at Luke, already looking more lucid than he did on the street, though he suspects part of the reason was he was scared and a bit disoriented then and now feels safe. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Spencer,” he smiles back, patting his knee affectionately as he pours him another glass of water. “Have your toast and another glass of water and then you can have a shower, if you like. It’ll help ground you and warm you up a bit.”

Spencer’s compliant through it all, which is obviously desirable, but he’s also quiet. He takes the hoodie Luke chucks his way without comment and slips it on -- Luke very pointedly does not think about how good he looks -- before looking to him for his next direction. 

His eyes are much clearer now and he seems far more sad than drunk, so Luke steers him back to the sofa and hands him a blanket. “Hey, Spencer,” he says, waiting for him to look up before continuing. “What’s going on? Why did you need me to pick you up?”

Spencer fidgets with the blanket as he answers. “Well, I went to the bar to stop thinking, like distract myself, but it didn’t really work so I just decided to have some wine instead, which was really nice and I liked the fuzziness, but then when I left there was this man. He came up to me and was trying to… like he was trying to ask me to sleep with him,” he risks a quick look up to check if Luke is listening to him but averts his eyes from the intense stare when he realises he is. “But I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to do and I panicked but then this man came out of the bar and he punched the other guy and helped me but then I called you so he didn’t have to do anything else.” His voice is nervous as he talks, clearly unsure of himself from the way he darts around from point to point, his typical eloquence evading him. 

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” Luke says, earnestly. “I’m sorry that happened to you but I’m even more sorry that you were sad enough to drown your sorrowsbecause of me. Tomorrow, I promise we can talk about this and I’ll explain everything, but right now I think you should sleep. You can take my bed or the sofa tonight, whichever one makes you feel more comfortable, and then I’ll make you whatever you want for breakfast in the morning and we can chat. How does that sound?”

Spencer looks satisfied for now, cocking his head to the side. “Hm, can I have pancakes?” he asks.

Luke laughs fondly at that, leaning forward to ruffle Spencer’s hair lightly as he tries not to read into it when Spencer leans into his touch. “Are you kidding?” he teases. “You’re looking at the pancake maker extraordinaire right here.” He relishes Spencer’s giggle at that, pleased at how relaxed he looks now he knows Luke isn’t angry at him. “Pancakes in the morning. For now, where would you like to sleep?”

“The sofa’s fine,” Spencer says softly, a small smile playing over his face as he follows Luke with his eyes as he stands up to collect some blankets and pillows. “Thank you, Luke.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smiles back, and hands him the extra blankets and cushions. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

★

Spencer wakes up to the sound of dog paws on wooden floors and is momentarily confused -- he does not have a dog nor wooden floors -- before the events of last night flood into his head with a crashing wave of humiliation. He sits up abruptly, blinking his eyes against the soft grey light of the gloomy day, and looks around until he meets Luke’s eyes where he’s sat drinking a cup of coffee at the dining table. 

He knows he’s flushing an embarrassing shade of red but he can’t help it, this whole situation is so bizarre. “Good morning,” he finally says.

“Morning Spencer,” Luke says, hiding his far-too-wide smile behind his coffee mug. “Did you sleep okay?”

He just nods and hums in response, before excusing himself and rushing to the bathroom for a small semblance of privacy. Looking in the mirror, he splashes his face with some cold water and fiddles with his hair until it’s sat the way he wants it to before taking some deep breaths in a vain attempt at composure. He’s sort of in love with Luke, being in his apartment like this is mildly intoxicating. 

Eventually, he surfaces back in the main living area where Luke’s already started on the pancakes. “Hey, you good?” he calls over his shoulder as he flips the pan, a delish smell intoxicating the kitchen.

“I’m good,” Spencer confirms, joining him in the kitchen for a front row seat of Luke cooking. Chatting menially together as the pancake stash slowly builds, Spencer gathers all the toppings at Luke’s direction before they move to sit at the table and start tucking in, both trying to ignore the rising tension at what they both know is coming.

“You’re being so nice to me now but all throughout the case you barely looked at me, I mean you couldn’t even share a room with me in the hotel,” Spencer says after a few moments of silent apprehension as they have their first bites. “Is it… is it because I’m gay?” His voice drops to a whisper, face contorting from confusion to apprehension, feeling a little nervous that Luke might get angry now he’s reminded him of it.

“What, no, Spencer, of course not,” Luke says defensively. “God, I’m not a homophobe. The exact opposite, actually. I’m gay, too.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Luke puts his knife and fork down and runs a hand over his face as he psychs himself up. “That’s the problem. The truth is, I’m into you, Spencer, very much so. And I’m fully aware that you’re my best friend and you won’t feel the same way, so… that’s a problem. The others were starting to realise so I distanced myself, but it has nothing to do with you, it’s all me so please don’t blame yourself, alright?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

“I’m sorry, I just needed to explain why I acted like that.” Luke apologises, sitting forward again. “I know this is probably making you uncomfortable, I can drop you back or call you a cab or something--”

“No,” Spencer says suddenly, snapping back into action as the information finally processes. Leaving right now is the last thing he wants. “No, I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just caught off guard. You… like me?”

“Well, yeah,” Luke smiles, a little awkwardly. “If you want to put it like that.”

“Oh.” He pauses for a moment as everything finally clicks into place. “We are both very stupid.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the primary reason I was sad and drinking at a bar alone last night was because I am very much in love with you and feared you were pushing me away. That I’d lost my chance forever,” Spencer explains. “I don’t have much experience with relationships, so I didn’t know how to deal with it and when you started acting distant I did the same and… ran away, I guess.”

Luke’s glad that Spencer’s eyes are clear this morning and his eloquence is back or he’d fear he’s still somehow drunk out of his mind still and has no idea what he’s saying. “Oh.” It’s his turn to blank on a response. 

“To be honest, Luke, I don’t know where to go from here,” Spencer laughs, a little awkwardly.

“Let’s start with this,” Luke says, getting up from his seat across the table and sliding into the chair next to Spencer, bridging the gap between the two before he kisses him gently. Spencer’s hand reaches forward to grip the front of his shirt, kissing back with just as much trusting desire as he feels Luke smile against his lips. They part at the kiss’ natural conclusion, pulling back to look at each other, tense awkwardness replaced with a new understanding of one another. 

“Yeah,” Spencer smiles. “That feels like a good start.”

It’s a good start, but it’s by no means the end. The heaviness that had weighed between them for so long finally lifts and the lightness that replaces it means they both breathe easier, finishing their pancakes in between shy, cautious looks and shameless giggles. “Do you have anything you need to do today?” Luke asks as he washes their plates up, Spencer perched on the kitchen counter next to him. 

“Nope,” Spencer says, smiling at the implication of such an answer. 

“Well, what do you feel like doing?” he asks, wearing far too cheeky of a grin for Spencer to avoid leaning down and planting a kiss on his lips. 

“Hm,” Spencer ponders, looking out the window at the rainy day. “I think movies and snacks would be perfect if I have you as company.”

“You smooth little thing,” Luke teases, poking Spencer’s side with a wet finger and delighting in the giggle that escaped his lips. “That sounds perfect to me.” He washes the frying pan last and quickly wipes down the kitchen before they head to the sofa, arms piled high with all the crisps, chocolate and cookies they can find in his cupboards. Spencer also digs about in the freezer and finds a pint of ice cream to share, which they feed each other bites of later in a sickeningly sweet, cliched moment of tenderness.

Luke chooses the first movie, picking out a Marvel film that Spencer ends up actually enjoying, though Luke can’t exactly say the same about Spencer’s choice, an obscure period piece from the 1960s. Still, he cuddles him close and pays attention to every minute. If it matters to Spencer, it matters to him. 

And if wasting the day away with movies, snacks, and heart to hearts turns out to be exhausting enough that Spencer just has to stay the night again, this time sharing Luke’s bed with him and Roxy, then they’ll just have to make the absolute most out of such a terribly inconvenient situation. And they’ll deal with how to hide a 2 night love-fest from a team of profilers in the morning, because they’re far too oblivious to realise they already know.

Tags: @johanna-swann @pretty-b0yy 

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Chapter 8

Let me know if you wanna get tagged when I post new chapters in “These Streets Are Made For Walking”. @sleepysnails.

Ao3 Link

-------------------------

It’s the next Wednesday when the Foster Bitch climbed the stairs up to Techno’s room. Knocking on the doorframe twice, she entered without waiting for an answer.

“Tommy hasn’t been to school all week, and the school called about unexcused absences.” She frowned at him. “You share a room with him, and don’t you drive him to school? Where is he?”

Techno threw his earbuds on his bedside table. “No idea Ma’am. I haven’t seen him since you sent him to pick me up from the station last Thursday. He woke up early and took the bus. I figured he was mad at me and at Tubbo’s. Dream’s been suspended for the incident, so I couldn’t exactly ask him.”

“Don’t you have his number?” she asked in an accusatory tone.

“Yes. But you confiscated his phone two weeks ago.”

“Oh.” She seemed to be taken aback for a second. “Shouldn’t you have Dream’s?”

“That’s for work. Like I said, I thought Tommy was at Tubbo’s. I didn’t think anything was wrong.”

“Mr. Richmon is in the kitchen.”

Ranboo’s dad. “Oh fuck.” Techno rolled out of his bed. He honestly would rather stay on his phone, but she was clearly offloading this on him, and Techno was going to make sure Tommy still had friends. Going to Ranboo’s was the best dinner Tommy ever gets. He doesn’t eat that much when he’s over, because he’ll just vomit it up, but the leftovers he takes back last the two of them a good week. Tommy may not want to be a bother and use up their resources, but Techno knows that he thinks of those leftovers as paying Techno back for everything he does.

Techno rushed down the stairs, jumping two at a time. The old stairs creaked as his feet hit their tops, the planks bending under his weight. In a moment of hesitation Techno stopped suddenly, sliding a little on his socks. He took a moment to collect himself, before making his way into the kitchen.

“Mr. Richmon,” greeted the Foster Bitch appearing next to him. “This is Techno, he’s probably the closest person to your son as Tommy hasn’t been around lately.”

“We’ve crossed paths,” Techno said, straightening his tee-shirt collar.

“Parent teacher interviews, was it?” Mr. Richmon asked, sending a little glare to the Foster Bitch and offering Techno his hand.

His grip was firm, but Techno’s was comparable. “What brings you here?”

“I haven’t seen my son since Friday.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve been calling him in absent for a prolonged family issue, but I am well aware of the company he keeps.” Mr. Richmon kept his tone light, but the accusation is heard loud and clear as he pulls out a chair for himself.

Techno tips his head in understanding. “His friends aren’t that bad,” he defends. “But I understand your concern with Tubbo and Purpled’s brothers.”

Mr. Richmon gestures to Techno, “And Tommy’s.”

“I’m not Tommy’s brother. This is a group home. We aren’t related,” he dismissed immediately. “The other guys are blood though.”

Both the Foster Bitch and Mr. Richmon gave him weird looks at his comment.

Techno took them in stride. So what? He knows he’s lying to himself more than he’s trying to convince them. “I can ask Dream and Punz if they know anything,” Techno suggested. “I assume you don’t want to be seen with them?”

Mr. Richmon nodded. “Of course not. This place is dingy enough.”

The Foster Bitch looks affronted, but Techno shushed her with a look. “I’ll try to find your son, but might I recommend going to the police.”

“The less the police know the better,” Mr. Richmon said like it was a mantra of his.

Techno nodded, already trying to figure out how he was going to deal with this. He was the getaway driver who did his homework. Sure he knew a few things, but he didn’t have any street skills. He remembered the purple hoodie at the gas station; he might have wanted to stay oblivious, but he knew who he saw.

Techno and Mr. Richmon left the house at the same time. They got into their respective cars and they drove in opposite directions. Techno headed to Punz’s place--might as well check if they were there. Techno honestly doesn’t know why he had Punz’s key on his lanyard, but due to it he didn’t bother needing to knock.

“Techno’s here!” he shouted; can’t ever be too careful at the mercenary’s house. He doesn’t hear anything back, and since anyone who could possibly be here would shout back in greeting, he assumed that the place was empty. But it doesn’t hurt to check around.

The thing about Punz and his profession is that he had to keep tabs on his targets, and the way he practiced and kept his skills sharp was by keeping tabs on his close associates. Therefore, he normally knows when people plan to stop by.

Techno walked into the living room and found a sticky note on the family computer. “Initiation collateral. Alive,” he reads.

Techno moved the mouse and the screen opened up to an article on one of the dark web sites. “New Las Nevadas Member: Merc. Punz’s Baby Bro.” He quickly scrolled down to the cover photo: open white van doors with Purpled and Tommy grappling on the ground, Ranboo and Tubbo nowhere to be seen. “Shit.”

As he skims the article he pulls out his phone and calls Dream.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Tommy’s for sure not sleeping at your place is he?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“For sure? Is everything okay?”

“No. Is Tommy there?” Techno pressed.

“No, and Tubbo hasn’t checked in with me for a while.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Techno lifted his shoulder, trapping the phone there so that both of his hands were free. He scrolled back up to see the picture again, confirmation that it was, in fact, real. He let out an unsteady breath, and shook out his hands.

“Why? What happened?” Dream’s voice picked up anxiously. “Did you hear something?”

“Yeah. So did Punz.” Techno took a deep breath. “Did he tell you anything?”

“I haven’t spoken to Punz in about a month,” Dream said.

“Mr. Richmon came by the home asking for his son.”

“The kids aren’t at Ranboo’s?” Dream asked, concern hardening his tone.

“Nope. Purpled’s on the news. The way that you’re on the news.”

The line was silent. “Fuck.” The sound of something breaking echoed down the line. “That’s. Bad.”

“Hope its ransom.”

There was a rustle on Dream’s end of the line, as if he was moving something. “Fuck. I’ll look into it. What did Purp get into?”

“Las Nevadas.”

“Fuck. Purpled. Why? What did Mr. Richmon say?”

“That Ranboo was missing and that he came to me because you and Punz live in too much of a shithole for him to visit.”

“I don’t live in a shithole!”

“This place is dingy enough, were his exact words.”

“Ouch.”

It’s been a week. Tubbo, Ranboo, and Tommy were thrown into the same room. It’s objectively a nice room, but a prison is still a prison no matter how lavish the cell. The beds were really comfortable, but it was barren besides them.

They don’t see Purpled again, instead Fundy Soot is the one to bring them their three meals a day. You’d think that one could never get sick of pizza, but eventually--especially with the mood so sour--there comes a breaking point.

“Did someone order a meat-lovers?” The door opens and Fundy is inside the room with three cardboard plates, two slices on each. “Your dinner is here.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy said digging into his slices.

“No, I don’t think I will.” Fundy smiles vindictively. Sue him, he hates babysitting duty. “Who’s gonna shut me up? Your brother?” he asks, looking at Tubbo. “That little amateur couldn’t do anything. Petty thieving is the highest form of sin you know?” Fundy said like he was reciting something.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy repeated, noticing how Tubbo froze.

“You too? What’s your brother going to do? He’s just the fucking getaway driver. He can’t help you. Big Brother Techno Blade isn’t as strong as you think he is, little Tommy.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tommy shouted. “Techno may be friends with Dream, but he’s not doing that shit.”

“Didn’t you pick him up from the station? You’re lying to yourself. You know that Techno is in with Dream.”

“No he’s not! And don’t you have something better to do with your time? College or some shit?”

Fundy chuckled humourlessly. “The faster you eat, the faster I’m out of your room.”

Tommy glared and shoved a whole slice into his mouth.

“No one’s coming to save you,” he taunted.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full. We sent the ransom video,” he said moving onwards. “Instead Mr. Richmon hired Techno and Dream for free. Seems Daddy doesn’t care about his son enough to save you immediately.”

That’s the point that Tubbo broke. Tubbo could take a verbal bashing; Tommy would be pissed if he attacked on his behalf; but Ranboo? Ranboo was the most innocent here and didn’t need familial jabs.

Tubbo lurched from his bed and swung at Fundy Soot, sending him down to the floor. “Where the fuck is your big brother? He fucking failed you if you had to get dragged in the life style to survive.” Tubbo punched Fundy again after he was down. “Where is he huh? At least my brother managed to keep me out of this shit.”

Tommy rushes over to pull Tubbo back. “Shh. Shh. We can’t afford this. He's top dog here.”

Fundy laid on the floor, arms out and protecting his face.

“We’re done eating,” Tommy growls. “Get out.”

Ranboo, thoroughly shaken, picks up the plates and puts them in Fundy’s hands, standing in between the two groups so Fundy couldn’t retaliate. If any of them needed to come out of this looking pretty it’s him: the rich boy.

[grxceblqckthxrn]

TDA characters as types of tiktokers

y’all KNOW i’m bored when i’m doing this shit lmao 

i’ll get around to doing the other TSC characters eventually TDA was just the first to come to mind also if you’re not actively on tiktok some of what i say might not make sense ahaha

also i named some tiktokers who yall can use for reference for some of them and from what i’ve seen they’re all fairly unproblematic so you should check them out!!

EMMA CARSTAIRS

okay so she’s DEFINITELY super popular and she uses her platform for good

she’s really funny and a lot of her audios go viral posts videos of her dancing saying that she cant dance but she’s actually really good at it

6M followers and growing fast 

 hypes up her boyfriend’s account ALL the time

calls out misogynistic/racist tiktokers through duets and KEEPS THEIR TAG IN THE CAPTION  

 she is not afraid of starting drama lmao

occasionally hops on POV and transition trends but its usually satire 

emma can’t act for shit lmao 

super active on tiktok and has a spam account

people are always asking her to drop the skin care routine but she doesn’t have one?? 

*pushes Zara down* “and no one’s gonna help her?? WOW some world we live in”

JULIAN BLACKTHORN

there’s no way he doesnt  have an art account lmao

a lot of his paintings go viral but 90% of his comments are 14 year old girls thirsting over him

yall know that pottery guy on tiktok?? the cute one?? (i searched up his account just for this post he’s @/daxnewman769) that’s the best way to describe him

literally all the famous tiktokers commission him

probably has like 4M followers lmao

will occasionally make about how respecting women doesn’t make you a “simp”

doesn’t get into tiktok drama tho

posts candid videos of emma and all his jealous 14 year old fans get so pressed but he shuts down anyone who says anything bad about her

sometimes does painting or drawing tutorials and he’s really good at teaching stuff lmao

CRISTINA ROSALES

omg okay so like yall know those really pretty girls on tiktok who are literal models and are always dropping tips on how to frame your face for pictures and best clothes and poses and whatever  ( @/ameliezilber is the first person that came to mind as an example)

thats her

alot of her content is just for the aesthetic

BLING EFFECT

GRWM’s all the time

10 step skin care routine 

GOOD VIBES

has a pretty decent following?? like at least 2 million

has a spam but it’s exactly the same as her main lol

also calls out problematic tiktokers but not by name

her entire account is full of body positivity and does a bunch of stuff on loving yourself

sometimes does POVs and all the comments are like “@ netflix hire her rn”

sometimes posts crack videos with emma and cute vids with mark and kieran

MARK BLACKTHORN

does a lot of reaction videos and duets

a lot of his videos go viral but he doesn’t have a huge following like maybe 800k

 everyone still knows him

gets at least twenty “are you wearing only one contact” comment about his eyes every post

he’s really funny without even realizing it 

sometimes goes inactive for weeks at a time and just forgets that tiktok exists lmao

shows off kieran and cristina ALL THE MF TIME AND EVERYONE IS SO JEALOUS LIKE HOW ARE ALL OF THEM HOT

KIERAN 

doesnt have a tiktok lmao sorry

but shows up so much on mark’s and cristina’s that a lot of people know who he is

DIANA WRAYBURN

unironically does POVs but is actually good at them??

lots of videos talking about the struggles of minorities like LGBTQ+ and POC and women

posts a lot of those vidoes that are like “what to do if you ever get kidnapped” “red flags in relationships” “most powerful parts of the body” etc

probably has like 500k followers 

at the end of the day she doesn’t really use tiktok that much tho ahaha

LIVVY BLACKTHORN:

does a little bit of everything??

posts dance videos sometimes 

omg her transitions are SO good

everyone is in love with her and she has to remind them that she’s a minor (i’m just a kid plays aggressively in the background)

posts videos that are just vibes?? like her skating at night, dancing in traffic with dru/her friends, walking through the city at night etc

lots of lip syncing videos to whatever sounds are popular and all her comments are like “i wish i looked like this” “guess im not eating today” and she gets so upset :((

she wants everyone to know that they’re perfect the way they are!!

also posts POVs sometimes and she’s not that bad at them ahaha 

probably has like 1 million followers 

doesn’t even need a spam just posts everything on her main 

shouts out her sibilings accounts all the time

overall just great energy

TY BLACKTHORN

never posts his face on his main but he does on his spam

yall know those accounts that post fun facts or psychology facts?? his is like that except he talks to explain them and everyone finds his voice SO calming 

he posts a lot of content of animals and everyone is in AWE with how good he is with them

his username is probably theanimalwhisperer or something djkfskjd

every single time he posts Kit on his account all the comments are like “OOH ICU” and “SHIP” and “ASK HIM OUT ALREADY”

he gives 0 shits about popularity on tiktok he’s just posting for fun because he likes teaching people about his interests

so he has like maybe 500k followers

lots of philosophical questions that has everyone questioning their existence

ugh i love him

KIT HERONDALE

be honest this is what y’all were waiting for 

yall know those unproblematic ppl that everyone refers to as the “king(s) of tiktok”???

yeah thats him

SO FUNNY

LIKE HIS CONTENT IS GENUINELY HILARIOUS

lots of sarcasm and satire

think @/adamkindacool  ?? (one of my favourite tiktokers lmao)

does reaction videos for those “pov: im the annoying hot cheeto girl sitting next to you in math class” videos

dark humor (not like rude humor but actual dark humor)

like “i put the baby in the oven and the pizza in the bed” type of jokes back when those were a thing

has like 4M followers but almost every single one of his posts go viral so he’s gaining fast

lots of pranks

starts a bunch of trends

any video he posts of Mina goes viral

sometimes he posts some really weird stuff that has everyone laughing so hard irl (@/benoftheweek)

he NEVER thirst traps but still gets a lot of those weird sexual fairy comments on his posts (iykyk)

TO BE CLEAR I MEAN THE FAIRY EMOJI ONES NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM BEING FAE 

reacts to the comments with a video of him just staring at the screen with the “oh to see without my eyes” or “im just sixteen” audio going on in the background which only encourages them to make more weird comments

anyways everyone loves him

any of his povs are pure jokes meant to make fun of pov’ers

posts maybe one serious tiktok every 5 months that talks about being respectful and using your platform for good

“i miss old tiktok”

posts a lot of random videos of Ty where, again, all the comments are shipping them except even more so on his account because everyone can see his heart eyes for Ty

collabs with Dru a lot and does a bunch of duets of her videos

everyone loves him bye

DRU BLACKTHORN

SO many memes

she deletes any hate in her comments bc she honestly doesnt care to respond to them and doesn’t need that kind of negativity in her life

but one time she got a “the f in women stands for funny” comment and she WENT OFF

does really dark povs sometimes that are really interesting

CLOWN MAKEUP + SCARY CLOWN TIKTOKS ( think @/avani ‘s clown make up posts

REALLY good at makeup and sometimes gets julian to do scary makeup on her for tiktoks and povs (like those ones with stitches over the mouth or skin peeling off)

huge ally!! posts a lot about minorities struggles and white privilege, and acknowledges hers

does movie reviews and stuff sometimes

“types of” videos

pulls a lot of pranks on her sibilings with livvy and sometimes with Kit

lots of body positivity + self love

calls out back-handed compliments

also has a lot of content like Livvy’s of just vibing in LA

julian and emma and mark go off at anyone who sexualize her in the comments

probably has like 650k followers

posts a couple of times a week

BONUS: 

JAIME ROSALES

lots of skateboarding videos idk he just gives me that vibe

doesn’t post that often but is super popular

like maybe 1.5M followers

really passionate about systematic racism

HATES all those privileged white boys using the “this is america” audio to pretend they’re oppressed ( this is a may 2020 thing so it probably wont make sense to anyone who sees this after lmao)

POSTS A LOT OF THIRST TRAPS LMAO 

also posts lots of videos that’s just him yelling about stuff but they’re really entertaining to watch ( like that guy sebastian @/sauceyogranny)

everyone thinks he’s super hot he always shows up in those “hottest boys on tiktok” videos except sometimes he’s just the token POC boy and it makes him mad :( 

DIEGO ROSALES

HIS ACCOUNT IS SO PRACTICAL LMAO

lots of tips 

“what to do if you’re trapped in the desert” “what to do if you’re kidnapped and stuck in the trunk”

doesnt reply to comments EVER unless it’s to clarify a point he made in the video or answer a question

has like 200k

okay thats it lmao im done bye this took me like an hour to make

i’ll get to all the other characters from the other series’ eventually 

also if yall are wondering abt the lack of f*ckbois in this post they’re coming dw

TMI CHARACTERS AS TYPES OF TIKTOKERS

TID CHARACTERS AS TYPES OF TIKTOKERS 

TLH CHARACTERS AS TYPES OF TIKTOKERS

[bittybattybunny]

BCU Masterlist

Just kinda realized it semi needs one so before it gets too out of hand and I’m spending hours on it like when I made the original TLC one (which i swear I’ll update someday)

BCU Masterlist:

Tag for entire AU (asks, art, fics) is BCU AU

Basic precis: the BCU is a MCU based AU surrounding Arulius Thatcher and his adoptive daughter Kaya Solaria and the changes of their world (aliens, His girlfriend is a Super Soldier, he has a god in his office, and more)

Does not follow the MCU Timeline as an FYI. Some Movies will be ignored due to characters being different personality wise (Loki and Thor are good bros and the first thor movie doesn’t exist in BCU the second KINDA does. Timmy don’t touch weird rocks damnit child) other movies are merged or reordered.

Enjoy and I hope this is at least a lil coherent!!! I’m half awake rn so who knows

Will have an actual proper fic, it will be organized into various segments (First is called “Rise of the King” and dictates how Kaya became spiderking and how she wound up in that alley the day she met Arulius. Second part is Heart of Iron. Which if you can’t guess is more about Arulius and his new struggles of being the father of a super hero and then getting injured and becoming a hero himself. Third is Song of the Past which will be primarily a flashback fic but will tell the story of Nightingale the super soldier who vanished in the 1920s. after that we’ll see were we go)

Also big shout out to @/doodleimprovement, @/gingersanps, @/thepotatogremlin, and @/gamermousedraws for listening to me go off on this au for the past week

Thanks for dealing with my BS---

Artwork:

Initial post for AU (Includes base designs for Civillian Kaya, Hattie, Civilian Ru, initial rough pass at Spiderking and Throned Snatcher)

Spider Senses going off, The Nightingale, Swinging, Spiderking Reference (Contains info in text about Nightingale’s story line as well as misc notes on Kaya and Ru’s relationship)

Patched up (Feat. nell from @doodleimprovment) Ficlet and Drawing

Ru’s Arc Reactor and feelings to it, Marcus, Vanessa, Misc Snatcherfam doodles (there’s a reblog chain in the notes of this discussing the scars on Marcus’s face as well as how he got them. Also includes information in reblog chain about Ru’s captivity)

Spiderchild can cling to ANYTHING Even hulks (Malou belongs to @kuromoai)

Loki and Thor (and some Nightingale) Info on their relationship and Loki’s role

Nightingale before and after becoming a super soldier (Feat. Aslan who is Ru’s great-Grandfather and her ex boyfriend) Bit of Backstory for Amaris/Eclipse

Spiderchild having snack with her alien parasite, Florence Welsh and Newt (just some doodles with character info)

Fics:

Patched up (Feat. nell from @doodleimprovment)

Secret Affair (Snippet ficlet of Ru and Eclipse’s relationship)

Morning Routine (fic snip of Kaya and her dad, Gabriel, and how they start mornings)

Pizza Time (Dadtcher bonding with Kaya)

MISC Asks (no art):

What does BCU Stand for

Permission to use Malou as Hulk for BCU (Malou belongs to asked @kuromoai)

Does Loki/Craft have Children? (yes)

Who is Mooper in the AU? (a few of them actually) (there is a reblog chain explaining information on if the Stony reference was intentional or not. It was)

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

Day 4: Tweeted- Benny Miller

Day 4: Tweeted- Benny Miller 

I have to admit this may be my favorite so far that I have written. I just love Benny so much and how adorable he is.

Check out my November writing challenge masterlist below and let me know if you have any requests for any of the prompts. 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 3: Clarity- Maxwell Lord 

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It was a strange thing to tell people when they asked about your boyfriend. Yes, he’s an MMA fighter, ex-special forces, and also an overgrown child.

You met Benny eight months ago at one of his local fights. A blind date set up by your friends started out as dinner with a nice normal doctor and ended up in bed with the entertainment for the night. You still felt sort of bad about how you had ditched the doctor but when you thought of how happy Benny made you it was worth it. 

You are sitting in the gym watching Benny train with his brother Will. The Miller brothers were a package deal and luckily Will and you hit it off right away. Will is going through some footage from an old fight while you scroll through your phone on twitter. Since you had begun dating Benny, the world of MMA became a norm in your life. You followed other fighters and coaches on twitter and learned as much as you could. It was at that moment an idea struck you. 

“Hey baby...babe....Benny!” you shout getting both men’s attention. 

“What do you need, Tiger?” Benny smiles at you. 

You roll your eyes, you hate that nickname, one time you had one of your nieces' Daniel Tiger songs in your head and you accidentally sang it out loud...one time. But that’s all it took for him to call you Tiger forever. 

“Have you ever thought of getting a twitter account for yourself as a fighter? Not like a personal account but something for press,” the look on his face makes you want to laugh out loud. 

“What the fuck is a twit….twitter? Is that some kind of STD?” oh your poor golden retriever and his lack of knowledge at technology. 

“No...baby no. It’s a social media account that people get to post about their lives. Lots of other fighters use it to connect with fans, and promote their fights, Will back me up here?” you gesture to the other Miller who looks just or more confused than the former. 

“Uhm, I honestly don’t know what the hell you're talking about, my girl just got me a Facebook account like two weeks ago,” Will shrugs at Benny. 

You roll your eyes so far you can see the inside of your brain before you tell them, “It would be great Benny, we could make you an account tonight when you come over for dinner and I can show you how it works, just trust me baby.” 

“I trust you Tiger, how about you get going home and I’ll pick up the take-out and be there within the hour?” Benny stands before walking over to you pulling you into his arms. You have to look up since he is a solid foot taller than you and he pecks you on the lips before attempting to deepen the kiss. Damn this man is insatiable. 

“Alright enough!” Will shouts, breaking the two of you apart abruptly, “Let the woman go Benny we need to finish up with this and then he’s all yours.” 

“Oh brother, I already am all hers,” Benny tells his brother loudly before leaning down to your ear and whispering, “and she is all MINE.” You can’t help the shiver that runs up your spine before he puts a wet kiss below your ear and gently pushes you towards the door, slapping your ass on the way out. You wave goodbye to Will and make your way home. 

Benny arrives exactly one hour later, two whole pizzas in hand, and a six pack of beer. You had been having pizza a lot more often since the other guys started calling you both monsters for your equal love of pineapple and ham pizza. Over the next three hours you and Benny work on setting up his twitter account. 

It’s honestly way more frustrating teaching him than you thought it would be. He asks more questions than a grandpa learning how to use a smartphone. You didn’t know a grown man could ask so many questions and so quickly. 

“What are followers? Is this some sort of cult website. Babe, I don’t wanna join a cult.”

“So I click this little round A symbol to tag someone in my tweet? Is this even English?” 

“Are hashtags named after hash browns because they look like hash browns...wait do we have any hash browns….baaaabbbeee now I’m hungry!” 

You groan before slapping your forehead, watching your big MMA fighter boyfriend dig through the freezer for hash browns. Coming back soon with a pout on his face, having found no hash browns. Damn how can one be so adorable?

“That’s it, I got work in the morning. I promise we can work on this more tomorrow!” You stand from the couch popping your joints as you stretch. Benny comes over to you wrapping you up in a hug. His warm arms wrap around you and he kisses the side of your neck. 

“Thank you,” the words are slightly muffled against your skin, “I really appreciate you doing this stuff with me. Supporting me with being a fighter, I promise one day I am going to make you proud of me.” 

You pull him back, placing your hands on his face. “I am already so fucking proud of you Benjamin Miller and don’t you ever forget it. Yes, you suck at technology butI promise I don’t love you any less because of it.” 

Benny goes quiet and the smile drops from his face… “My little Tiger... you love me?” 

Oh shit. That’s not exactly how you imagined telling Benny you loved him but when has anything in your relationship been conventional. You take a deep breath meeting his eyes before you smile, “Of course I love you baby. You are the sweetest, toughest, most badass, old man on the planet and I fucking love you so much.” 

Benny’s eyes become glassy before he’s pulling you in for a kiss, and wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I love you too Tiger, so fucking much,” he kisses you again slower this time, “go to bed baby I will clean up out here and join you in a couple minutes.” 

You pull away first, exhausted not only physically but emotionally too and you kiss Benny on the lips again gently before walking back towards your room. Benny has his own place with his brother but he’s kind of like a stray dog that followed you home one day and never left. Most of his stuff is at your place anyways, since he sleeps there every night. You pull back the covers and get into the cool sheets, from the nightstand your phone pings. 

You pick up the phone and see someone tagged you in a tweet. When you open it your eyes water and you clutch the phone to your chest. 

@y/n is the best girlfriend on the planet, AND SHE LOVES ME! I LOVE YOU TO BABE!

You press the like button on the tweet before turning off the light snuggling into the blankets. From the hallway you hear the sounds of Benny’s boots on the floor walking towards the bedroom. He gets ready for bed, and pulls you close to his body, his arms wrapping around your waist pulling you tight to him. Your head rests on his chest. 

Just when you're about to fall asleep you feel him tap your shoulder gently, “babe…” he whispers, “I tweeted all by myself.” 

You laugh out loud before snuggling to him tighter, “yes you did, I even liked it. And Benny?” 

“Yeah Tiger?” 

“I love you too.” 

Day 5: Holy - Llewyn Davis 

[kindahoping4forever]

This year I’ve spent more time with all of you than I have with my own family. This fandom isn’t always easy, this website isn’t always functional and this year was impossibly difficult for reasons both global and so personal I don’t want to get into. Under the cut, there are some people I want to individually mention but I know sometimes these posts are basically the equivalent of reading someone else’s yearbook messages so I wanted to give a blanket thank you up front. If you’re reading this, it doesn’t matter if we’ve talked or not, if you are on my blog, you made this year bearable for me. You helped this place feel like home, you helped me feel like I had support and as trivial as this whole thing is, you helped me feel like I had purpose in a year where I literally sat alone in my bedroom all day everyday. Yes, I wish 2020 had been different and god I hope 2021 is better but regardless of all that, I know I have a place here and that gives me more comfort than I could ever put into words (and by now, y’all know I love words). If you’re reading this, thank you.

To my anons, whether you were a regular (SAB and my 🍒 friend, I hope you’re well) or a just a passerby, whether you address me as Tater Tot, Main Crystal, Historian or an all caps MA’AM, whether you’re screaming at me about a fic, something Ash just posted or an interview from 3 years ago that you only have a vague recollection of but need to discuss - I’ve had an immeasurable amount of fun with you. Thank you for wanting to talk to me.

To the regulars in my inbox like @ivebeenasleepsolong , @fedorable-killjoys , @ashtcnirwin, @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @roarformeprettylion @spicycal @ashtonlftv and many others (some it won’t let me tag and some I haven’t seen around in a minute and the Tumblr folder in my email is only scrolling back so far on mobile smh) - I always appreciate seeing a familiar face (? you know what I mean lol) in my notifications and again, thank you for wanting to talk to me.

In that regard, even if we haven’t talked and you just like or reblog posts, I do notice the people who are consistently popping up in my notifications and appreciate your presence. I won’t shout you out in case you’re lurking on purpose (lol) but I just wanted to mention I value you in our little community.

@sadistmichael @sexgodashton @irwinkitten @suchalonelysunflower @mymindwide @justhereforcalum @oldmes @loveroflrh You’ve all been so generous and encouraging when it comes to my writing and I genuinely cherish every piece of feedback you’ve given me. 

Anyone who has read or supporting any of my fics this year, I can’t thank you enough. Before this year, I’d never publicly shared anything I’d written nor did I plan to. I haven’t worked since March and writing is now how I fill my days, I can’t imagine what I’d be doing without it so thank you for indulging me, encouraging me and occasionally screaming with me. 

@wastethen8 We talk more on other socials than we do here now lol. I'm always so happy to hear from you whether it's about something fandom related we're excited about, a tiktok trend (😁), a song you're learning (💙) or a silly story about your life. Sorry for occasionally ghosting you when I forget to check my snaps lmao. Love you!

@ashtonangst Our meals this year? Sometimes few and far between but ma'am we got fed. I'm so glad to be riding in the superior lane with you. 😌

@notinthesameguey Whether it’s another broke!sos comment, a simple “come get your mans” or something equally entertaining, I adore seeing you in my inbox. (Not to mention the reaction memes omg)

@rebelwith0utacause From discussing 2017!sos to tattoo/pierced!sos to dream cover songs to your contributions to the “Daddy but...” list, any day you grace my inbox is a fine one, Ana. (I still regularly think about that broke!sos essay you sent in lmao)

@ashtonsunshine There’s really only one way I can properly convey my love for you. 

Thank you for your presence in my life. (Yes I am saying this to both the picture and to you 😂💙)

@karajaynetoday If we’re being honest (like pizza), we have been through so much in such a short span of time lmao. Thank you for your friendship, your kind heart and the Aussie snacks. Here’s to being #GirlBosses in 2021. 😌

To my beloved clowns @cashtonasfuck, @pxrxmoore, @feliznavidaddycal Big sigh. Cream Soda. Collarbones. Paying for parking. Auralism. The Cologne Incident. Sprinkle Gate. Water bottles. The Hat Shelf. ****** ****. Our chaos? Unmatched (except perhaps by own Clown King himself). Can you believe there was a time when we thought Ash planting A GARDEN was going to be the most exciting gift he’d give us this year? AND THEN HE MADE AN ENTIRE ALBUM. This year has been unreal in ways both good and bad and I feel like the luckiest clown in the world that I got to experience it with you all. Full send on those vibes, my friends.

@cal-puddies I’m sure everyone on this website is sick of me talking about how much I love you (you might be too, who knows lmao). I’ll keep it brief since I’m sure I’ll tell you at least 5 other times tonight how much you mean to me. I am only making it out of 2020 in one piece because of you. The writing, the clowning, the bad movies, those have all sustained me this year but it’s the knowledge that I have someone unequivocally on my side, that I can talk to about anything at any time that gets me out of bed in the morning (and on the days when I simply can’t get out of bed, you tell me that’s ok and I am also immeasurably grateful for that). I am a better writer from working with you, I am a better person for knowing you. There’s no one I’d rather live in a Cashton AU with, plan to buy an overly ambitious farm with or otter-bond myself to as we float into the unknown waters of 2021. You’re the best bestie.

[wherevermyway]

can’t wait for you (to shut me up) // binsung // oneshot // 18+

pairing: seo changbin x han jisung rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: smut, food kink, roommates, spicy (literally), dacryphilia, don’t try this at home, explicit sexual content  word count: 5,475 also on AO3

originally posted: 14 december 2020

Han Jisung doesn’t turn down a dare. Ever. His roommate and occasional fuckbuddy, Seo Changbin, however, makes Jisung regret being so cocky and arrogant after he gets his hands on some capsaicin extract.

Alternatively: fuck bruh moments, Jisung has an Icarus moment.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are  interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do  not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of  the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable,  please stop reading now.

Saturday nights always proved to be bizarre. Jisung’s friend and roommate, Changbin, was quiet and reserved six out of seven days of the week, only completely opening up as he got drunk and played some stupid multiplayer game every Saturday evening. As the night went on and Changbin’s friends logged off, the two of them would usually split a twelve pack of cheap beer together, take a break from their class projects, and do stupid things that usually involved drunken dares.

Jisung was never one to turn down a dare. He had an arrogant nature that would likely prove to be a fatal flaw one day. “You’re gonna regret that,” Changbin would tut, shaking his head after Jisung would accept a dare without hearing it out. Usually, it was something stupid or mindless, like licking honey off of Changbin’s foot, or walking through the library with a vibrating butt plug for as long as the upperclassman deemed necessary.

They weren’t dating — at least, not officially; this was something they constantly stressed with each other and their friends. Their relationship was just an eclectic, liberal interpretation on the boundaries of friendship. Friends could fuck each other after all, right? Honestly, the sex was too good between them to really bother with dating other people, but they did agree that they weren’t exclusive, even if it had been a year and a half of the same strange dynamic.

“You stupid motherfucker!” Jisung could hear Changbin shouting at the television all the way down the dorm hallway. The anthropology student was generally mellow and calm, until he had a couple beers in his system and joined a gaming session with his friend Chan.

The younger blond shook his head with a smirk as he ripped his lanyard out of his pocket, shuffling around to get the correct key to their dorm in between his fingers. The four single-serve shots Jisung snuck into the library for his study session were having an effect on his ability to smoothly rifle through the keys, but not enough to actually affect his cognition. Jisung slid the key into the lock and turned it.

When he opened the door, he expected to see Changbin, but he didn’t expect to see him in a loose, torn tank top and basketball shorts, especially not in the dead of winter. Toronto was cold, even indoors, and Changbin was sometimes nothing short of a madman. The older man was too busy yelling banter into his headset to notice Jisung standing in the doorway with his eyebrows comically raised and his jaw hanging open a bit.

Jisung tried to regain his composure before Changbin realized that his roommate was home, but, as he brought his bottle of beer up to his lips, the older man turned his head slightly, and they made eye contact. A bit of lager splashed up against Changbin’s face; he recoiled and quickly wiped his chin off. Jisung darted his eyes away, nearly forgetting to remove his key from the lock as he shut the door behind him and awkwardly mumbled some sort of greeting.

There was tinny chatter coming from Changbin’s headset, knocked slightly askew, and the older man scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he rolled his eyes and offered a polite wave with his fingers as he stared at the television, mashing some buttons on the controller in his hand. He set the near-empty bottle down on the table and raised his voice a bit. “If these motherfuckers would stop spawning missile launchers and aiming them solely at me, maybe I’d be able to help better.”

Jisung set his bag down on the kitchenette countertop, then opened the fridge and grabbed two beers from the door. He scanned the contents of the fridge, hoping that there was still leftovers from a couple nights prior. However, his face fell to a slight frown as nothing but a half-empty carton of whole milk and seven bottles of beer stared back at him. It was late, and Changbin probably figured Jisung would eat while he was out.

He wasn’t incorrect, but Jisung really looked forward to stealing one of the cold slices of leftover pizza when he got home; it always went well with the Molson Changbin would get for the weekend after class on Fridays. It was a mediocre beer at best, but it was good for mindless drinking. “Bummer,” Jisung muttered under his breath, grabbing a couple of the bottles from the shelf. He closed the door to the fridge and took the magnetic bottle opener off of the door. He popped the caps off of the beer bottles, leaving the bent metal on the countertop as he made his way over to the cheap, scratchy couch, languidly flopping down next to Changbin, putting an amber bottle down on the table next to his other beer bottle.

The older man grunted as thanks, focusing on the enemy in his sights on the screen, his tongue between his teeth and eyes squinting in concentration. This week’s gaming session with Chan featured Grand Theft Auto V, Jisung recognized the map. Changbin had mentioned something about a double XP event, and that he and Chan were trying to get their crew’s ranking higher up the list. It was all some inane bullshit that went in one ear and out the other to Jisung, but he enjoyed listening to it, regardless, since Changbin’s face would light up as he passionately explained just how renowned their crew had gotten.

This also meant that Jisung could get away with being a little handsy with Changbin, especially since he started drinking a little sooner than normal for a Saturday night. He took a long swig from his beer, then set the bottle down on the table, scooting closer to the older man. Changbin didn’t notice, still leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. Jisung crawled his fingertips up Changbin’s thigh, causing the upperclassman to involuntarily flex for a moment, his head twitching to the side but unable to break his gaze away from his match.

Jisung’s fingers kept creeping closer and closer to the inside of Changbin’s thighs, which parted further and further away with each little movement. After Jisung’s fingers landed over the stretched fabric above Changbin’s pelvis, the older man lifted his arm and leaned back a bit. He nodded once, silently granting Jisung permission to continue. The younger man bit his lip in excitement as he slipped down to the floor on his knees.

There were a lot of nice, strange little oddities about their relationship that Jisung loved. About a year ago, when things started to shift from stupid drinking dares to more sexually explicit dares, Changbin had drunkenly dared Jisung to suck him off while he was on voice chat, gaming with Chan and a couple of his friends. “Don’t look away from my face,” he had demanded with a bit of an ironic quiver to his voice. “I wanna look down and see you staring up at me.”

“That sounds like fun,” Jisung giggled as he accepted the dare. “You sure you can stay quiet enough for your friend to not notice, though?”

Changbin flushed, looking away from Jisung as he gritted his teeth. “You don’t hear me in my room late at night; Chan won’t hear anything. Besides,” he rolled his eyes and sighed, “Chan’s heard me get off over voice before, and he doesn’t care; actually probably finds it hot, knowing him. Wouldn’t shock him, really.”

It still wouldn’t shock him a year later, but now he’d give Changbin shit for roping his roommate into it, instead of just handling it himself. None of their friends knew that they were more than roommates, but Jisung’s friend Felix had suspected something was happening when Jisung agreed to be roommates with Changbin again for his junior year of university. Likewise, Chan had made some choice quips about how Changbin should have moved out and gotten a real apartment, not an apartment-style dorm that was ultimately owned by the university.

For this odd dynamic, some things were worth sacrificing.

Jisung worked in a calculated fashion as he offered small licks and nibbles up and down Changbin’s cock. The main objective wasn’t to get him off, just riled up enough to cause a bit of tension. Changbin slowly started to become more and more disheveled the longer Jisung teased him, the final nail in the coffin was when Jisung kept tonguing at his frenulum with progressively lighter and lighter licks.

“I’m done, man,” Changbin growled into his mic, grabbing Jisung by the hair and roughly pulling him back. There was a pause as they stared at each other, the younger man smiling and showing off his teeth with a wide, proud grin. “It’ll be fine, dude,” Changbin continued with a hint of a whine, pressing a couple of buttons on his controller. “We can deal with it tomorrow. I’ve got more important things to deal with.” The older man motioned for Jisung to get up and rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Chan. You’re just jealous. Night.”

Changbin practically tossed the controller across the room after he turned his system off. “You’re trouble, distracting me like that when you knew it was a big weekend for Chan and me,” he tsked, standing up and tucking his dick back into his shorts. “I hope you’re ready for a hell of a dare.” He padded off to the kitchen and Jisung smacked his hands against the coffee table to a loose rhythm.

“I’ll take whatever you throw at me,” the blond smirked. “Favourite part about the weekend.”

The elder shook his head. “You’re not going to think that after tonight.”

Jisung watched Changbin rifle through the cupboards of the kitchen and he tucked his head into his hands. “Come on,” he drawled out with a whine, “all of the stuff you’ve dared me to do has been mild and pretty boring so far. Unless you’re gonna have me walk around naked, blindfolded, and in high heels with nipple clamps down the hallway, I don’t think you can really shock me at this point.”

Changbin paused. The mental image of Jisung’s words must have danced around in his thoughts, because he was frozen for at least half of a minute, letting out a stifled shudder as he turned around. “Not quite that, but it won’t be mild, to say the least.”

“So get on with it. What’s the dare you’ve got in store, Binbin?”

“The first part is simple,” Changbin smirked and leaned back up against the counter, folding his arms. “Let me suck you off.”

Jisung’s eyes lit up, and Changbin already knew this was going to end up poorly. “Hell yeah!” The blond shimmied his shoulders and nodded his head. “I’m already down for whatever you’ve got in store.”

A simple shake of the head is all that Changbin offered in response. He untucked his right hand, showing off a tiny vial with a small, viscous liquid inside of it. “You didn’t even hear the whole dare.”

“When have I ever said no to your dares?” Jisung had a point: a year of dares every Saturday, and he never once declined. It was stupid, though, because he never heard the entire thing through. Changbin would bait him with a good idea, then throw in the crazy idea afterwards. It had always worked out, but tonight’s dare could easily go sour very quickly.

“This isn’t like the others,” Changbin’s smile faded and he shook the bottle between his fingertips. “I know you get really eager over these dares, but this one is gonna hurt. It’s high time you learned to stop being so overzealous, Sungie.”

Jisung scoffed and rolled his eyes, slapping his hands down on the table. “Whatever, whatever, man. What’s the last half of the dare?”

Changbin gritted his teeth and pulled his lips into a straight line. “This isn’t something you can really say ‘no’ to after you actually ingest it.”

“Drugs?”

“I mean, technically? It’s a chemical.”

A confused frown grew on Jisung’s face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You wonder why I’ve been ordering spicy takeout all week?” He sets the vial down behind him and tucks his hands into the pockets of his shorts. Jisung shrugs his shoulders and makes a noncommittal grunt in response. “I’ve been gauging your tolerance level to see if you could handle an intense dare.”

Jisung rolled his eyes again. “Spice challenges are boring, dude,” he pouted as he looked at Changbin. “We killed that one at Roma’s last week—”

“Twelve million scoville units.” Changbin cuts off the excited junior. Jisung quickly loses the arrogance in his demeanour and sinks into himself a bit as his eyes grow wide. “Yeah, I thought so. Don’t worry, it’d only be two drops from this vial. You consume two drops of this hellfire oil, and I’ll distract you by sucking you off. Still interested?”

There’s a long, uncomfortable pause that hangs in the air as Jisung weighs his options.

Changbin curses something unintelligible under his breath. “I’ve got other, less potent ideas,” he offers, biting his lip as he watches Jisung think.

“Sure, I’ll still do it,” the younger man says with a shrug, like it didn’t really matter to him at all.

“Sungie,” Changbin brings his knuckles to his forehead, shaking his head as he sighs with disappointment, yet still smirks to himself. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Jisung stared at the plate in front of him, with two neon red spicy cheetos set in the middle, one on top of the other. It almost looked like a photo he had seen in one of his art history books, so captivating by its simplicity. He had eaten these MSG-laden salt bombs several times. Adding a couple drops of oil infused with the epitome of lava would be fine, right? Temporary discomfort. Temporary.

“Sungie,” Changbin grabbed Jisung’s shoulder, softly shaking him. “Did you hear what I just said?”

The blond shook his head. “Sorry, got distracted.”

“This is a really stupid idea,” the older man sighed, “like, I really don’t think we should do this.”

Jisung knitted his brows together and scoffed. “I’m not turning this down. We’re doing this, dude.”

There was an irritated groan that came from Changbin as he gritted his teeth and tucked his head into his hand. He stared at Jisung and frowned. “I’m going to regret challenging you to do this more than you’re going to regret accepting this dare, I just know it.”

“That’s on you,” the younger man arrogantly quipped, running a hand through his hair with fake confidence. He grabbed the bottle of beer that was next to the small plate and chugged the last of it, slamming it down on to the table. “Anything to get you to get me off.”

“You know, you can just ask me.”

“Yeah, but dude, where’s the fun in that? That’s so… domestic, like actual couples do that.” Jisung rolled his eyes and smirked. “Anyway, let’s get this over with. Hey, we could film it and go viral or some shit, too, that could be fun.” Changbin deadpanned and scowled, causing Jisung to wave a hand nervously. “It was a joke, man.”

The older man shook his head and grabbed the tiny glass vial, staring into the oil as it lazily sank down the sides of the bottle. He continued to scowl, squeezing the dropper and unscrewing the lid from the glass. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated, yet still brought the dropper over the red snacks.

“Shut up,” Jisung folded his arms and sighed. “If you really didn’t want to do this, you wouldn’t be going through with it. Just admit you wanna watch me sweat and cry and suffer and call it a day. You’re such a sadist.”

A flush crept up on Changbin’s face. He said nothing, just shook his head and dropped a single, quick drop of oil on each nuclear red corn puff. As he hovered his hand over the plate, Changbin nervously looked up at Jisung and opened his mouth to say something.

“Nope,” Jisung grumbled, shaking his head. “I’m not backing out of this, so don’t say anything.”

The older man rolled his eyes, then screwed the cap back on to the vial. “Fine,” he muttered, standing up and making his way into the kitchen. “Then I’ll just tell you that, again, you’re an idiot for accepting this.”

“You’re an idiot for suggesting this!” Jisung shouted and let his jaw hang agape for a moment, hands thrown up in the air in disbelief.

Changbin spun around on his heel and pointed a finger in Jisung’s direction. “You need to stop accepting dumb things without hearing the whole thing first!”

Jisung pouted and dropped his hands, recoiling a bit. “I only accept these things from you because I trust you, Binbin.”

The way Jisung’s voice went from an irritated shout to a soft whine caused Changbin to visibly wince. “Sungie,” he started, bringing his palm to his face with a heavy sigh. “That was harsh of me, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I guess,” the blond mumbled. “Just grab the stupid milk and get back over here. The whole point of this was so you’d suck my dick and distract me anyways.”

Changbin did as requested, but the air in the room was different now. He set the carton of milk down on the table and tugged his tank top down, playing with the hem of his shirt as he sat down on the couch. “You gonna be okay?”

Jisung took in a deep breath, looking away from the plate in front of him, turning his head to look at Changbin. They stared at each other for a moment, and then nervousness behind the blond’s eyes faded as he arrogantly smirked. “I’ll feel a lot better once you’re between my legs and doing your best to distract me.”

The older man couldn’t help but deadpan again, rubbing his temples with his middle finger and thumb. “You’re something else, Jisung,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, but you like that about me.”

“It’s true,” Changbin shrugged, dropping his hand to his lap. “You ready?”

Jisung turned to look at the plate and he nodded once. “This is a dumb idea, but fuck it.” He reached his hand out to the hellish crisps, fingers twitching a bit as he grabbed both of them off of the plate. He turned to look at Changbin, whose eyes were wide as he swallowed with anticipation.

“You sure about this?”

“Shut up, Changbin.” Jisung rolled his eyes, then shakily put the food into his mouth.

He chewed for a couple of seconds, nothing really happening. Maybe the oil that Changbin got from his friend Hyunjin was a dud. Then, he swallowed and everything started to fall apart. Rapidly.

Jisung’s eyes went wide as he coughed and shook his head a second later. “Oh my god!” He panicked, hands flailing and fanning his head as his face reddened. “Jesus fucking Christ, that’s—” he choked on his own saliva, coughing up a fit. Changbin’s face contorted in reactionary terror, reaching out to the carton of milk, offering it to Jisung as the younger man shook.

“This was a horrible idea, why the fuck did you go along with this?”

Jisung ignored Changbin’s comment, practically drowning himself in milk as he choked down the liquid, trying to swallow it and breathe at the same time. “Hot,” garbled up from his throat, some of the white liquid sputtered up into the air as he spoke, some dribbling down his chin. “Changbin,” Jisung whined, his eyes teary, glistening as much as his face was as it started to sweat, some visibly beaded up on his forehead. “Distract me,” he managed to pant out between gasps, wiping his face off with one hand and motioning towards his lap with the other.

“You’re a madman,” Changbin licked his lips, biting at the inside of his cheek as he watched Jisung unravel into a sweaty, teary mess. If Jisung could focus on anything other than the stinging, stabbing pain in his mouth, he would have noticed that Changbin was enjoying this a bit too much. Instead, he wanted to rip his tongue out of his mouth and forget he ever existed.

He decided, right then and there, that he was never going to take on a dare like this again.

Changbin stumbled to the floor, too busy watching Jisung writhe and sweat to pay close attention to undoing the button and zipper to the younger man’s jeans. The blond leaned back into the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling as he panted and whined, letting out strings of profanity as he suffered. Sweat, tears, and saliva dripped down his face, making Jisung’s face shimmer in the bluish white light of their dorm.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jisung loudly whined, shakily reaching a hand up Changbin’s head, curling his clammy fingers in his hair, “distract me, come on.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Changbin apologized, tilting his head down to focus on getting Jisung’s cock to spring free from the confines of his jeans and boxers. Surprisingly, it was already half-hard, causing Changbin to lift one of his eyebrows and offer a quip. “Excited over this, huh?”

Jisung groaned, rolling his head back and pushing Changbin’s head down. “Not distracting me,” a long, drawn out whine interrupted his sentence, “like you promised.”

Changbin chose not to say anything, instead he dug his elbows into the couch as he worked Jisung’s cock into his mouth. He gently pressed the tip of his tongue against the base, eliciting a small squeal from the younger man, who twitched and whimpered in response.

“More, please.” Jisung rolled his shoulder blades up against the back of the couch, furrowing his brows and wiping his forehead haphazardly with his free hand. “Wanna fuck your mouth, wanna come all over that pretty face of yours.”

The older man curled his lips in a devious smile. “I just said I’d suck you off,” he pulled back a bit, looking up at Jisung with a bit of snark, “not that I’d get you off.” Changbin flashed his teeth with an evil grin, until Jisung lifted his head and wildly stared down at him.

“If I didn’t feel like my face was about to fucking melt off,” Jisung hissed through his teeth, trying to stay relatively composed, “I swear to god I—” Changbin firmly gripped the base of Jisung’s cock and wrapped his lips around the head, sucking at it hard enough to cause the blond to stutter over his words. “Distracted, yeah,” he weakly moaned out, letting his head lull back.

There was an audible pop as Changbin pulled his lips off of Jisung’s head. “Distraction and sucking your dick was what the deal was.” He continued to grin, letting his hand continue to work Jisung’s shaft as he watched the younger man’s face contort in reaction. “Maybe once everything’s settled and you stop crying over a little pain, I’ll give you what you really want.”

Tears continued to stream down Jisung’s face no matter how much he tried to mop them up with the back of his hands. There was a fair amount of runny mucous dripping from his nose, too, rendering him into a sloppy, sticky mess.

Admittedly, it was a bit gross, but Changbin found it more disturbing that seeing his junior fall apart made him painfully hard. The way his tears shined on his pink cheeks, the way he whimpered and mewled in discomfort, all of it was strangely arousing to him. “Maybe we should shower first,” Changbin laughed to himself as he moved back down and wrapped his lips around Jisung’s cock.

“Maybe you should,” Jisung panted heavily, looking down to the older man, gasping as he spoke, “should go fuck yourself.”

Changbin looked up at the underclassman and flipped him off with a free hand. He hummed a laugh, the vibrations causing Jisung’s eyes to cross. The younger man threw his head back and rolled his hips up into Changbin’s face, causing the upperclassman to choke a bit, not expecting to feel Jisung’s cock hit the back of his throat.

Jisung pulled his shirt up and off as Changbin continued to bob his head up and down, circling his tongue around the length in his mouth. “Fuck,” the younger man whimpered, hastily wiping his face with his shirt as if it were a kitchen towel. He continued to let out a few strangled curses as he ran a hand through his hair.

Changbin offered a few more tongue flicks against Jisung’s cock before pulling away and standing up. “Come on,” he offered a hand to the perplexed man on the couch, “as much as I’m loving this, I really just wanna get fucked by you.”

After some extensive handwashing and some half-assed showering, Changbin found himself bent in half over his bed, with two of Jisung’s fingers inside of him. “I should just fucking edge you,” the younger man quipped with a smirk on his face, watching his elder twitch his fingers against the bedsheets, awkwardly scrambling for purchase.

“Please,” Changbin whined, “I gave you what you wanted, Sungie.”

“Yeah, you did.” Jisung slipped a third finger inside, biting his lip back as the upperclassman writhed and moaned underneath him. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t wanna see you suffer a bit as payback.”

Changbin gritted his teeth, turning his head back a bit to stare up at Jisung. “Fuck you, I told you what you were getting into. Hell, I warned you several times.”

“You had your fun,” Jisung bent over and nipped at Changbin’s shoulder. The teeth sinking into his skin caused the older man to let out a bit of a moan. “My turn, now.” He curled his fingers down, causing Changbin to drop further, letting his head collide against the mattress as he mumbled incoherently in approval.

“Yeah, I like that. You should keep your mouth shut more often, huh?” Jisung rocked his fingers back and forth a bit, then gradually started pumping them in and out of the man beneath him. “I bet you probably loved watching me cry out there, didn’t you?”

Changbin attempted to choke out an affirmation, but he was too lost in the feeling of how Jisung’s fingers moved inside of him to coherently respond.

“Figures,” Jisung tutted. “You’ve always been a weird one. I’m feeling impatient tonight, Binbin. While I’m annoyed you enjoyed making me cry, I’m tired of being hard.” He pulled his fingers out, then brought his hand to his cock, wiping some of the lube around it. Changbin opened his mouth to speak, but Jisung cut him off, slowly pushing his cock inside of the older man.

Instead of spouting off of a bold comment, Changbin lets out a throaty groan, gripping the sheets tighter. Jisung slowly pushes himself completely inside the upperclassman, a smirk growing on his face as he watches the man under him twitch. “You feel nice,” Jisung breathes out, moving his hands to both of Changbin’s hips, “you feel so nice. Want me to keep moving?”

Unable to form a coherent sentence, Changbin simply nods, and Jisung smiles. The younger man grips the hips in his hands tighter as he slowly moves in and out. The men exchange a myriad of lewd noises between them as they blend together.

“Jisung,” Changbin arched his back, tilting his head closer to the younger man. He didn’t have to respond for Jisung to know what he wanted.

The younger man shifted his hand from Changbin’s left hip up into his hair, running his fingers through the soft, damp, brown locks. It started off as a soft tug, then he quickly drew his hand into a fist and pulled back, eliciting a sharp cry from the older man.

This was Jisung’s favourite part of their interactions. Changbin liked to be pushed around a little bit after Jisung completed his dares. “Who’s gonna cry now, hmm?” He ruffled his senior’s hair around a bit, then tugged on it again as he thrusted in hard, stilling his movements. “Asked you a question, babe.”

“You can’t make me cry,” Changbin said, choking back tears. It was a bold-faced lie, they both knew that, but it fed into the moment.

“That a dare?” Jisung scoffed, then tugged at Changbin’s hair once more.

A whine escaped Changbin, eating away at his confidence. “Of course it’s a goddamned dare.”

“It’s always a dare.” As soon as Jisung finished speaking, he started roughly fucking into Changbin. The brunette tried to dip his head down and lose himself in the moment, but the blond held his head up by the hair gripped between his fingers. “I’m not gonna stop until I see you break, babe.”

“You’re gonna,” Changbin mumbled, “gonna have to try harder than that.” He tried to sound confident, but it was obviously false confidence. A few tears fell from his eyes, causing Jisung’s lips to curl upwards.

“Aww,” the underclassman mocked, “you’re doing a terrible job at faking it.”

Jisung let go of Changbin’s hair, letting the brunette’s head drop, then moved his newly-freed hand down to stroke he upperclassman’s cock. His stroking was a bit frantic, his thrusts becoming less and less controlled. “Want me to come on your back like always?” His voice cracked a couple of times as he kept moving.

Surprisingly, Changbin shook his head. “N-no,” he whined, “inside. Come inside me.”

“Really?” Jisung knitted his brows in confusion. That was something they had never done before, and the idea made his stomach flip. “If you’re being serious, I need to know, Bin.” He panted once before Changbin nodded his head.

“Just fucking come inside of me,” the brunette whined, “I’m so close and it’ll—”

Before Changbin could finish his statement, Jisung doubled over and let out a shuddering moan. He kept pumping the cock in his hand, but his movements were disjointed. Changbin shakily reached between his legs, wrapping his hand around Jisung’s, helping the younger man finish him off.

It took maybe two strokes before Changbin came on to his sheets. They would have to clean the sheets later, but that was fine. Hell, they could just sleep in Jisung’s bed, if they were really that out of it. Feeling the sticky, sweaty weight of Jisung atop him was worth it. They awkwardly laid there for a few moments, catching their breath.

“Hey, Jisung?”

“What is it, Bin?”

“No more fucking dares. At least,” Changbin sighed and rolled his eyes, “think them through before accepting them first, yeah?”

Jisung smiled, planting a kiss between Changbin’s shoulder blades. “I’ll consider it. No guarantees, though.”

“You just want me to keep fucking you after you complete a dare, don’t you?”

“Technically,” the younger man shrugged as he shakily rose to his knees, “I fucked you this time. But yeah, I want you to keep doing that. I wanna keep this up.”

“You’re so fucking dumb.” Changbin pushed himself up by his palms, his arms trembling a bit from all of the activity.

Jisung looked down at Changbin before pulling the older man back by the shoulders. “Yeah, but you like that about me.” Changbin opened his mouth to protest, but found his lips locked with the younger man. The energy between them as they kissed was different than their usual kisses. This was needier, more intimate and felt special compared to the others.

The older man broke away from the kiss first, for just a moment, looking down, then back up to make eye contact with the younger man. “I don’t want you to date anyone else.”

“What?” Jisung pulled back, blinking rapidly.

Changbin rolled his eyes, his expression softening. “You’re so dense, Sungie. We should be exclusive.”

Jisung shook his head. “No, no, I get that.” He smiled, awkwardly giggling at the same time. “I just never thought you’d be so cute about it.”

The brunette gritted his teeth and his expression fell into a scowl. “Don’t call me cute.”

“Fuck you,” Jisung laughed. “If you wanna actually date me, then get used to it.”

“You know what?” Changbin shifted his position a bit, letting Jisung’s cock fall out of him and cum drip down his legs as he turned. He grabbed the younger man by the shoulders and pinned him down to the bed. “Maybe I just will.”

They exchanged playful smirks with one another before they connected their lips together once more, kissing each other a bit more tenderly than they usually did.

“The boyfriend instead of the roommate,” Jisung quipped, bringing his hands up to Changbin’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

Changbin pushed a soft kiss to Jisung’s lips before pulling back with a smile. “Me too.”

[songtoyou]

Chapter 8: Wine Before Whiskey

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 2,827

Warnings: None

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

A/N: I wanted Tommy and Rose to connect on a more personal level in this chapter. I wanted them to become comfortable with each other outside of the bedroom. I don’t want their relationship to be solely about sex. 

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars​

Wine. A nice tall glass of wine. That is all Rose wanted to cap off the day. She decided not to respond to the text messages from her friends or mother. Rose was not in the mood to come up with some bullshit excuse for being photographed out with Tommy. Also, it was not their business, and she didn’t need to justify anything with an excuse.

With a glass of wine in hand, Rose sat on the couch in the living room with her feet up. As Rose flipped through the television, the front door opened and slammed shut.

When Rose saw Louis rush up the stairs, she called out to him, “Hey, Louis!” He ignored her. Sighing, Rose got up to follow her son upstairs.

“Louis,” she spoke through the door while knocking. “Is everything okay?” Still nothing. “Louis, honey, what is wrong? From the way you slammed the front door, you seem upset. Did something happen at school today?”

Louis opened his bedroom door to come face-to-face with his mother. “Did something happen at school today,” he said mockingly. “How about the fact that my mother was photographed out with a rumored gangster. Or the fact that some of my classmates are referring to you as one of Tommy Shelby’s whores. You know he has been rumored to date escorts mom. Did you not know when you first started seeing him? In fact, how did you even meet him in the first place?”

Shifting from one foot to the other, Rose looked down at the floor. She was too embarrassed to meet her son’s accusatory gaze. “All of that stuff, the rumors about Tommy, are just that, rumors.” Rose felt sick lying to her son. “And Tommy isn’t a gangster. He is a businessman.”

“That is not what I hear. There is a whole sub-Reddit about how he really earned his millions. I should show it to you. Maybe it would rethink your association with the man,” Louis rambled on. “How did you get introduced to him anyway? It isn’t like you both run in the same social circle.”

Rose sat down on the bed and drew her knees up. It was her way of buying time to formulate a believable response, or rather lie. Thankfully, she had already thought up different scenarios that would be the most believable.

“Do you remember that business trip I took with Linda back in March? It was to a conference up in Birmingham, the educators and practitioners conference,” she explained, which that part was actually the truth. She did go to a conference up north with her boss back in March. However, here comes the lie, “Well, Tommy was there as well. He just showed up unexpectedly. He wasn’t on the agenda, but he gave a speech, something about…I don’t know, I can’t remember. I wasn’t really paying attention. But it was at one of the social networking gatherings where I ran into him. We talked most of the night. He asked for my number, which I gave him, not thinking he would actually call. But we have been in contact for a while. It was only recently that we have gone on dates.” Again, all lies. Rose started to feel sick. She could feel bile began to rise in her throat.

Sighing, Louis folded his arms across his chest and leaned against his desk. He still wasn’t looking at his mother. “It’s all weird. You never really dated. Or not date so out in the open before.”

“Is one of the reasons why you’re upset with me dating is because of dad? Are you still hoping your dad and I get together?” Rose asked, concerned about what he would say. She wished Louis weren’t so hung up on the idea of her and Nick ending up together. It was never going to happen. 

He only shrugged. “Is it so wrong that a kid would want their parents to be together?”

There wasn’t much she could say to that concept. “How about we get pizza for dinner, okay,” she suggested hoping to move on from the subject.

“Fine. I got homework to finish up,” said Louis defeated. The look on his face broke Rose’s heart. 

“Alight. I’ll tell you when the pizza arrives. The usual?” she asked.

“The usual,” replied Louis nonchalantly while opening his school books and notebooks.

Rose left his room and walked down the stairs. She hated herself at that moment.

While Rose waited for the pizzas to arrive, she decided to send a quick text to Tommy.

As Tommy sat at his desk looking over contracts, it would be another late night at the office; he received Rose’s text. 

Rose: Tommy, we need to talk. Can I stop by your office around 3 PM tomorrow?

The message took him by surprise. He wasn’t expecting to hear from Rose or for her to ask to meet up with him.

Tommy: Yes, you can stop by. However, instead of 3:00, let’s meet at 4:00.

His reply back was his way of maintaining control. He found it rather amusing that Rose felt comfortable requesting, or rather ordering, Tommy for a meeting. Tommy was tempted to ask what the meeting would be about but didn’t really think too much of it. 

If the meeting turned out to be fruitless, he could end with Rose bent over his desk and punish her for wasting his precious time. The thought was already getting him hard. 

Leaning back in his chair, Tommy began to rub his hardness through his pants. Taking his cock out of his pants, he began to stroke back and forth. As Tommy continued to stroke, he only thought of Rose, which was unusual. Whenever Tommy was pleasuring himself alone, he would always think of Grace. He would picture his wife on her knees or bent over his desk or taking her up against the wall. It was always Grace.

But now, Tommy was picturing Rose. He saw her face clearly in his head. He imagined Rose under his desk pleasuring him with her mouth and hands. He wanted Rose bent over on his desk, taking her from behind, on the floor, the conference table, against the wall, and the floor. Tommy began to realize he wanted Rose all of the time.

At that thought. Tommy soon began to worry about why Rose asked for a meeting out of the blue. He began to wonder if she was regretting their arrangement due to being in the press. However, Tommy told Rose that being in the press was likely, and she appeared to understand that fact. No, something must have alarmed her. He would find out what it was. He would get it out of her one way or another. Tommy wasn’t going to let her go that easy. 

Friday! The day Father Time preferred to drag on and on. The hours on the clock appeared to move slower and slower, Rose noted. She was at work catching up on what she missed yesterday morning. It was the usual task; looking over budgets, setting up meetings, working on meeting agendas, finishing up the minutes from past meetings, and making sure the office was stocked with supplies. It was the same thing every day. Nothing changed, and the more she stayed at the job, the more fed up she became. Rose knew she needed to get out there and look for a better job. One that matched the college degree that she worked hard to obtain. A job that paid well where she would no longer have to be an escort to make a living. 

However, the money Tommy was offering to Rose was better than any standard 9 to 5 job could offer.

When 3:15 finally rolled around, Rose gathered her belongings and headed to meet Tommy. 

“Ms. Turner!” someone shouted at her. 

Thankfully, Rose knew that voice. She turned around to see Isaiah with a megawatt smile, waving her over to his car. 

“Let me guess, Tommy sent you to deliver me to him?” Rose questioned sarcastically. “And I told you to call me Rose.”

“Yes, he did, and yes, you did. Come on, we don’t want to be late,” Isaiah answered and opened the passenger door for Rose. She got in the car.

“You saw my son take the car this morning and let Tommy know, huh?”

“Yep,” was all Isaiah said and began to drive out of the College’s parking lot. 

With the way Isaiah drove, he managed to make it to the building that held Tommy’s office in half of the time. He smoothly moved the car around the building’s underground parking garage. 

“Okay, we are here. You can take the elevator to Tommy’s office,” he instructed and told Rose which floor to select.

“Thank you, Isaiah. I appreciate it. I figure Tommy is going to ask you to take me home?”

“That is to be determined. He might want to take you home himself. Have a nice evening, Rose. Take care,” said Isaiah and waved goodbye.

She selected the floor instructed by Isaiah and waited. Tommy was on the building’s top floor, so the elevator continuously stopped and let people on and off. When the elevator finally reached her destination, the doors opened. Rose only saw a few people pass by. There was no one at the front desk, so she stood by and waited until someone showed up.

Looking at her phone, it read 3:50. She still had ten minutes to spare. “Rose, hi. How are you?” She turned to see Andrew walk towards her. 

“Andrew, hi. I’m good. You?”

“Same. Can I get you some coffee or tea?” he asked. “Mr. Shelby is finishing up a call at the moment. Please, have a seat.”

“Okay. Water would actually be great, thanks.”

Andrew managed to get Rose’s water before Tommy emerged from his office. However, he was not alone. He was followed by a very tall and lanky man with a full beard and similar hairstyle to Tommy, but longer on top. 

“Arthur, continue to keep me posted on Changretta,” Rose heard Tommy whisper but pretended not to hear anything. She made it look like she was too preoccupied with her phone to notice the two men not far from her. 

“Esme is working on it, Tom. She is having trouble with a few firewalls, or whatever she called them, but assures she can crack ’em,” Arthur shared. “Said she would get a file on your desk by Monday.”

“Okay, good. That is good. I’ll talk to you later, brother,” Tommy responded, patting Arthur’s back.

Arthur said his goodbye and left for the elevators. Tommy turned towards Rose.

“Rose,” he spoke to get her attention. He motioned with his hand for her to follow him into the office. 

Closing the door behind him, Tommy told Rose to take a seat.

“Your text seemed rather…urgent,” Tommy began as he poured himself a whiskey. He offered on to Rose, but she declined. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, well…no, not really. I…uh…I don’t really know…” Rose began but was having trouble forming the words. “I don’t really…oh my God, it’s my son. He isn’t too keen on the idea of me ‘dating’ you. He saw the pictures. Apparently, some of the kids at school were making fun of him because of them. I have friends asking questions. Even my mom saw them, and I don’t talk to her at all. Everything has gotten out of hand. I mean, I wasn’t quite expecting this kind of outcome. It is a lot to take.”

Gulping down the whiskey, Tommy proceeded to pour another one for himself and one for Rose. 

“Drink,” he ordered, handing Rose the glass that held the amber color liquid, which she took and gulped it down. She placed the now empty glass on Tommy’s desk. “Feel better?” 

“Not really. Can I ask you something? It is kind of a personal question, but I’m asking you for some advice,” Rose asked and continued when Tommy gave her the go-ahead to proceed. “You have a kid yourself, a son. When I originally agreed to our deal, I never fully thought of the consequences that could occur. I didn’t think of how it would affect my child. To put it blankly, he is upset that I’m with you. It’s all about his stupid dad and wanting us to be together. So my question to you is, how do you go about lying to your child?”

Once again, Rose caught Tommy completely off guard with her question. That was not what he was expecting. The fact that she had the audacity to bring up his son didn’t even bother him as it would if it were anyone else. He was craving a cigarette at the moment. “My son, Charlie, spends most of his time at boarding school. He is only home on holidays and special occasions. When I have my son with me, he only wants to spend time with his cousins or me. He never really gave my ‘relationship’ with Lizzie much thought. To him, she was only daddy’s friend. Plus, the observation skills of an eight-year-old doesn’t quite compare to the observation skills of a sixteen-year-old.”

Tommy had a point, Rose thought. She motioned to him if she could refill her glass of whiskey. With Tommy’s go-ahead, she got up and poured herself a drink. This time Rose took small and sat back down.

Taking in a deep breath, Rose mentioned, “You’re lucky. It is so much easier when your kid is younger. They don’t ask so many questions or notice things that don’t add up. You can tell them pretty much anything, and they’d believe you. But when your kid gets older, prepare yourself for the questions he will no doubt ask.”

She looked up when Tommy sighed. He was leaning in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Charlie turned eight back in February. He is beginning to ask me questions about his mother, like where she was from and if we can visit the town, how we met, what made me attracted to her, all that stuff. The one question that scares me…” Tommy began, but Rose could sense hesitation. 

“He’s going to ask why did mummy have to die?” Rose finished for him. Tommy only nodded his head. “I don’t envy you on that part.”

Quite soon filled the office as Tommy and Rose sat in silence and sipping down whiskey. “Who was that guy that in here earlier?” Rose asked to kill the silence.

“That was my older brother, Arthur,” Tommy answered. “He and my younger brother, John, both own a couple of bars and clubs around England. They have been working on a new line of Peaky Blinders Vodka to go with our whiskey and gin brand.” 

“You really dabble in everything, don’t you. Where do you go from here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should try my hand at politics, eh. An MP to go with my OBE” teased Tommy with an exceedingly rare boyish grin on his face. Rose noticed that Tommy’s smile was rather sweet and brightened his facial features. “Yeah, that is exactly what my family needs is me in politics.” 

Rose softly scoffed, “I don’t think we need any more millionaires in politics, no offense.”

“No offense taken,” Tommy chuckled and downed his drink. He got up to grab his jacket and swung it on. He took Rose’s glass and finished it for her. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Tommy grabbed Rose’s hand and pulled her up from the chair. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to dinner. We can talk more there,” Tommy proposed and guided Rose out of the office. 

“I won’t be able to stay the night if that is what you were considering,” she stated while in the elevator.

“Not what I was considering,” uttered Tommy, honestly. He put his hands on Rose’s shoulder and turned her to face him. “Only dinner.”

“Only dinner?”

“Nothing more, nothing less,” Tommy replied, placing a soft kiss on Rose’s lips. He entwined his hand in Rose’s and walked her to his car.

He took Rose to Bar 61, London’s most famous Spanish tapas restaurant. When they were seated, Rose liked the relaxed and upbeat charm of the establishment. She was surprised that Tommy chose the place since it was more family-friendly rather than high-end/upscale. But the man before her was always full of surprises. They sat in a more secluded area of the restaurant where they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Tommy ordered a bottle of wine for them to share. He raised his glass for a toast. “What are we toasting?” Rose asked with a smile.

“How about to good health and new friends,” Tommy suggested and clinked his glass with Rose’s.

“And to new adventures,” Rose added, now with a sly smile on her face.

“To new adventures,” Tommy repeated, and they clinked their glass again.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Prologue: Onset of Injury (Sy)

Characters: Captain Syverson, various OMCs

Summary: Sy’s POV, the night and the mission that ended his military career and set him unknowingly on a path to true love.

Catch up on all chapters right here!

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings:  Language, violence, attempted military talk, feels…

Author’s Note: Okay friends, most of what I know about military ops I learned from watching movies…so, this may not all be accurate. But I think most of the terms and jargon are in line, even if this mission wouldn’t necessarily go down like this.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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@oddsnendsfanfics

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson had done a hundred briefings like this one. They were going into a compound with some low level goons, mid-level players, and one big boss. Two teams. Two entrances. One exit. The roof. Air extraction. Minimal undesirable casualties. Five or six mid to high level prisoners.

“Alright ladies, here’s the plan. The compound is central city. Alpha team, we’ll get dropped off by transpo two blocks south of the front entrance, Bravo team, same for you, two blocks north of the back entrance. Bravo, you head east and down once inside, Alpha will go west and up. Standard flanking formation. Stay frosty in there. These guys aren’t cub scouts. They will shoot on sight. Do your best not to be seen. Once the lower levels are cleared, we work our way to the top where we should find the big Kahuna. Do your best not to kill anyone in a suit. Tac gear only, unless it’s your life or theirs. These guys have intel the brass wants. Supposedly.”

Heads were nodding. Lopez raised his hand. The other guys laughed, but Sy appreciated the respect.

“Ricky?” He pointed at him to accept the question.

“Sir, what about evac?” He stood tall and sharp. He was new to the team, but Sy liked him already.

“That’s a great question, and thank you for raising your hand. Take notes on teacher’s pet here, class.” Everyone including Lopez laughed.

“There’s a stairwell to the roof in the master bedroom. That’s the LZ for our helo. They should be less than five mikes out, so we shouldn’t have time to order pizzas or anything after we clear the compound. So once the call is made, you won’t have long to get up the stairs. The helo can’t stay grounded for too long without drawing attention. We will need to keep an eye out for unfriendlies off compound being warned about our presence, and for survivors. Listen, I can’t stress this enough. I know it’s not easy to kill. And I don’t encourage it if it’s not necessary.  But these are bad people and they would kill you, the man next to ya, your sister, your parents, or your dog if they could.”

Aika, Sy’s German Shepherd whimpered in the corner but was ignored.

“Kill them for your brothers. For your neighbors. For the children you don’t even have yet. Because what do we do?”

“We embrace the darkness and the suffering.” His teammates that had been there for a while repeated the first part of the sin-eater credo.

“And why do we do it?”

“So that our fellow man is free to live in peace.” they finished the mantra as they had so many times before.

“Fuckin’ A. We roll in one hour.”

~~~~~~~~~

The drop and the entry had gone off without a hitch. Sy's Alpha team were like shadows, the very finger of death for the unjust and evil in the compound. Everyone they encountered was quietly subdued, whether by strategically placed blades, silenced firearms, or in some cases, the literal snapping of necks. Bravo team was just as successful. But Alpha team wasn't finding many prisoners.

The real problem came, though, when they reached the top floor where the big kahuna was supposed to be. Everything had gone dark, even though it had been lit up like Christmas, the Fourth of July, and the Super Bowl all in one when they were making their approach to the compound. Someone had squawked. Raised a silent alarm. Something.

"This…this doesn't smell right, captain." Harztler voiced what was running silently through Sy's mind. "This level was like Times Square when we got here. Now nothing? It stinks."

"I can smell it, Jake. I don't like it." he activated his comms. "Bravo team, we are sitting ducks up here, what is your twenty? Over."

"Sir, we are wrapping up down here, and getting the targets ready for evac. We should be on route in less than ten mikes. Over."

"Push it to five if ya can, private. We don't like the look of this bedroom. Over."

"Is this the moment to be questioning someone's taste in interior design, captain? Over."

"Shitcan that disrespect, private, or you'll be digging latrines alone next time we have survival drills. Over."

"Understood, sir. Will try to push to five mikes. Over."

"That'd be best. Over and out." He signed off with Lopez, amused at the inferior officer’s joke, even though he couldn’t show it openly.

Hartzler has just started to suggest possible reasons for their unease when the sound of rapid automatic firepower rang out from one of the floors below them.

“Fuck.” Both men said in unison followed immediately by frantic shouts from Sy’s radio.

“*crackle crackle* we are taking heavy fire! Kominski is down! Lopez is hit! Alpha team! Captain, do you copy? Over!"

"I'm on my way, Fuller. Hang tight. Over and out." Sy said and looked at the men on his team, "Hartzler, you and Goldberg signal the Helo for evac ASAP and get to the roof. Schmidt, Freeman, you two come with me to back up Bravo team. We meet at the LZ in five. That's not a big window, gentlemen, we'll radio if we hit any snags. Clear?"

"Clear." a round of nods and affirmations came from the rest of the team. Sy turned for the exit to the room, checking his clip, and putting one in the chamber. Stakes were higher than ever.

The last three steps to the ground floor were half blocked by a slumped corpse. Kominski. Sy fought the emotion building in him as he remembered David showing him photos of his two young daughters, Charlotte, who was seven, and Renee who had just turned five. And his gorgeous wife Sasha. His high school sweetheart. He was distracted enough  by thought of the soon to be grieving girls, that he missed the pool of blood, Kominski's blood, on the black tile steps. His knee twisted unnaturally. And he could almost feel the protest of his muscles and tendons.

"Fuck! Mind your footing on these last few, boys." he winced, limping on toward the firefight. He signaled the men behind him to stay against the wall and follow him quietly until he gave the signal to attack. There were three men in tactical gear firing from behind a bar in the corner, pinning what was left of Bravo team in their position behind an overturned dining table. It was just Fuller and Lopez now. Sy took the opportunity during a slow point in the enemy's fire to enter, managing to shoot all three immediately, single handedly ending things.

"Alpha team, secure the area. Fuller, Lopez, what is your status?" Sy asked the men.

"Lopez is hit pretty bad in the leg. We've got a tourniquet in place. I am…uninjured. But our prisoners have been…neutralized by friendly fire." Well, fuck. That was the mission blown.

"Ammo?" Sy asked, frustrated.

"Depleted, sir." they hadn't planned for this.

"Fuller, you and Schmidt get Kominski up the stairs, pronto. We ain't leavin' him in this hell hole. Freeman, you watch their backs. Keep 'em covered in case there are any more of these assholes lurkin' around the place. Lopez, I'm gonna help you up them stairs. Can you get up?"

"I'll try, sir."

"Okay, roll out." Sy went to help Lopez to his feet. The boy wasn't hardly 160 pounds soakin' wet.

It was slow going, with Kominski and Lopez in tow, but they made it back to the bedroom just as the sound of the helicopter began to grow, and the roof began to quiver from the wind kicked up by the blades.

Sy made Schmidt and Fuller go first, as they had the biggest burden. Then Freeman, in case they needed another hand getting Kominski's body into the hold. His knee burned after the four flights he'd already done supporting Lopez, but the private had lost so much blood. He thought he'd have to carry him up this last flight to the roof. The boy was pale as a…sheet. He didn't let himself think of an apparition.

When he felt safe enough, and ready, he told Lopez the plan and hoisted him over his shoulder on his uninjured side. His knee protested angrily, but he proceeded, ignoring the pain, forcing it down with those emotions about the Kominski family.

Relief washed over him as he made the last step and his boot crunched against the loose pea gravel of the roof top. They were almost out of the woods.

Until a massive explosion in the HVAC unit knocked him off balance and took him down to his knees, Lopez's added weight a contributing force in what he was certain was now a broken leg bone given a very clear and distinct pop he'd heard even over the noise of the fire and wind. He had heard it from the inside. He thought  it would be the tibia, but his knowledge of anatomy wasn't anything to write home about. He dropped the boy with an agonized howl. The heat from the blast bit at his back as he tried to find the strength to stand. But he couldn't. His team was charging toward him and the private. And for once, he was overjoyed to receive help. Fuller and Freeman got Lopez under each arm and dragged him the few yards to the open hold. Schmidt helped Sy up as best he could, but the Captain was in excruciating pain.

"Captain, we gotta go. These assholes are gonna blow up their own property to get us. Come on. It's not far. You can make it." Schmidt let his CO lean on him all the way to the helo.

Sy noticed tied up in one of the bucket seats of the hold, a man in maroon silk pajamas and brown leather loafers without socks. An Iraqi, early sixties, hair and beard still dark black. Their primary target. Mostafa Kassab.

"Where'd he come from?" Sy shouted at Hartzler.

"He was hunkered down in that corner over there when we came up to signal the chopper." the sergeant lit up with pride. "Fuller told me their prisoners didn't make it. I'm glad we found Kassab up here, or the mission would have been a total waste.

As they took off, Sy looked from the covered body of Kominski to the prone form of Lopez, who was paler than ever and glassy-eyed. It was hard in that moment to think that even ten of Mostafa Kassab could be worth one of these men he was lucky enough to call friends.

As he examined his knee, beginning to swell and looking a much different shape than he ever remembered, he thought about what this could mean for him, as a captain, as a soldier…as a man. If he could even call himself a man if he had to take away the title of captain and soldier. This was his calling. He wasn’t sure how he’d go on if…but, he’d wait to think about that when he got back to base and the medic’s tent. After all, what was the worst that could happen? It wasn’t like he was hurt bad enough to earn a discharge letter…was he?

Up Next: Chapter One: Evaluation

[obsidianfr3sk]

The puppet of the sad eyes

Hi! I haven’t posted a one short in a really long time, have I? Jaskdbsj well, um... I had promised this fic to my mom @healing-winston-pratt a while ago, and since yesterday everyone was talking about Winston, I said to myself “this is a good moment to post the fic, Obsi”. So... here I am:’) 

Gosh, I feel akward. I swear I am not like this xjhksfdhds (who am I kiding, I’m just as akward as I seem) (reference not intended) It’s just that... like, there are another characters in the Renegades trilogy that hit me too close home, but Winston just hits me in a place that no other character has done before, and I wanted to write a little bit about him. I mean... not gonna lie, it’s a sad fic. But it has a happy ending! Angst-Fluff as they say in my village (? 

Two quick notes: First, trigger warning for mentions of sexual abuse. It’s nothing explicit, it’s just mentioned, but anyways, I want to warn that if anyone feels uncortable reading it, don’t worry, keep scrolling. Second, I tried to tag everyone who reblogged the post made by @chikuyi-hiro (fuck, I can’t tag them), the one where we all claimed to be part of the Winston Pratt defense squad (? I’m sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged sjkdfhskjddsj Also, um... tell me if you would like to be tagged in future works of mine. If everything works out, I will be posting two one-shorts this week (one halloween themed and the other will be my contribution to Osby October) so... if you want to see them or other fics like that, I can tag you:’) 

Well, Obsi, let them start reading, for fuck’s sake.

*le da el dibujito que hizo en el kinder* Hope you like it mom:’)

A03 link

Tag list: @nodrianbcyes @dawniebb  @alecjamesartino @everyone-has-a-nightmare @plain-jane-mclain @honey-harper-official @itsalittlebitchilly @novas-egg-beater @sanktaleksander and all the “Winston Pratt Defense Squad” (?

From the first day she appeared in his life, Winston realized that Nova gave him the creeps. He first thought it was because she was Ace Anarchy's niece, but no.

What gave him the creeps was that Nova didn’t sleep.

Leroy had told him not to comment on it. Winston didn't know if it was because he thought he was going to hurt the girl's feelings or if it was because he didn't want Ace to listen to him and take it as a personal insult. Winston didn't care either way, because it wasn't like he was going to shout it from the rooftops.

It was just an observation.

Nova gave him the creeps.

Maybe it was because sleeping was the best part of the day for him. He could disappear for a few hours into a deep, dark void. Get rid of any emotion he was feeling. No one was going to be able to hurt him, and if they did, he would never know.

Because when Winston slept, it was as if he didn't exist. It wasn’t like he could do it very often anyway.

Not only because now they had to live in a filthy, smelly tunnel. It was also because Winston hadn’t slept well for a long time.

He was lying on a piss-smelling mat Leroy had found in the trash. “If you don't want it, you're more than welcome to sleep on the floor,” he told him when Winston dared to mention that thing reeked.

Winston didn't want to sleep on the floor. If Honey could sleep on pissed mats, so could he.

His back itched.

The mat not only had piss on it, but apparently, it also had fleas. How nice.

He began to scratch his back, feeling like a freaking orangutan. Hettie looked at him critically, dozing from the little wooden bed he had so lovingly made for him.

“What are you looking at, bitch?” he asked.

Hettie crossed his arms and shook his head. In the cathedral, we wouldn’t be like this.

He kept scratching himself. “Sorry to call you bitch,” he mumbled. “You put me in a bad mood.”

I don't like you looking at me. I don't like you to analyze my every move. I don't like you watching me when I'm changing. I do not like you.

Then someone opened the door without knocking. Winston was about to shout “INGRID, GET OUT OF MY TENT” when he realized it was not Ingrid.

It was Nova.

Winston froze with his hand on his back. “Um... can I help you?”

It might be the first time he'd spoken to her directly, after that awkward moment during her second day at the cathedral, when Winston had tried to make conversation with her, and Ace had told him to stay away from Nova.

“I don't want you to do the same to her,” he had told him sternly.

Winston clenched his fists and clasped them against his chest.

It would never have occurred to him to use his powers on her.

But it seemed that Nova had taken to heart not speaking to Winston because indeed she did not speak to him the entire time they were in the cathedral. Before the Day of Triumph.

(What a stupid name for a day by the way.)

“Can I borrow a toy?” she asked in a small voice.

A toy. Nova wanted a toy.

“Ah. Yes, yes, yes…” Winston said, pulling the covers off (which also smelled like piss). “I… I have a lot of toys. Look.”

And he went to the second tent. Winston had to cower slightly to be able to move around there. Honey was always nagging him for his bad posture and he always told her it was the tent’s fault.

The last time that had happened, they were eating frozen pizza in a corner they had assigned for those kinds of times when they sat down together to gobble up leftovers.

“You can't blame inanimate objects for the rest of your life,” Honey exclaimed, losing her temper (for the eighth time that day).

At that moment, Winston felt his blood run cold. For the first time in his entire stay with the Anarchists, he wondered if they knew.

Do you see the marks of his hands on my body? Do you see me tremble at the slightest touch?

Do you see me behind the makeup?

The fear left as fast as it came. Ingrid threw a napkin at him and asked him (very unkindly) to pass her another slice, and Leroy pointed out to Honey that all objects were inanimate.

No one had noticed.

What a relief.

Watch me try it, Honey. Watch me try.

In that other tent, Winston had a pink toy kitchen. He had found it a couple of weeks ago in a garbage dump, and he had brought it to the tunnels by himself, despite complaints from his fellow anarchists. He was left speechless when he realized it was full of toy food and even a couple of blue plates and blue teacups. He spent the entire afternoon organizing his new kitchen, and he was not put off by Ingrid's constant teasing.

He had loved it. And he was sure Nova was going to love it too.

“Look,” he said, “I have everything here—” he lifted a light orange basket “—This is the little basket where I put the fruits, and this—” he pointed to a green basket “—it is the one with the vegetables. I even have a mini pumpkin, it's very cute.” He opened a compartment below the sink. “Here are the non-perishable items. Do you know what non-perishable means? It's... Look, I have a can of sardines. It's fake, of course. Do not try to open it, it’d break. Oh, also in the oven—” he opened the oven door “—I have some cookies, an apple pie, some croissants… it’s that how is pronounced?  Croissants . I don’t know, do you know? Is Artino a French or Italian surname?” Nova didn't reply. Had he offended her?  Shit . “Nova?”

He turned and realized that Nova hadn't followed him. He hurried back to the first tent and found Nova very comfortable sitting on the floor, playing with Hettie.

The puppet looked at her with demonic eyes.

No. Not her.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Winston yelled. “He's mine!” With one hand he snatched Hettie from her and with the other he squeezed the toy croissant. Nova was startled. “Don't touch him again! DO NOT PUT YOUR LITTLE HANDS ON HIM AGAIN, NOVA, OR I DO NOT RESPOND! DID YOU HEAR ME?!”

Nova started pouting, and with that, Winston snapped back to reality.

He looked at Hettie, lazily dangling in his right hand, looking up at him with a smile. His little eyes weren't demonic.

They were sad. Like Nova’s were at that moment.

He was saying , “Why don't you let me play with other kids, Winston? You never play with me anymore.”

I never played with you. Not since he did.

“Sorry...” he mumbled to Nova while putting the croissant in his pocket. “Damn, I'm sorry. Don't tell your uncle I yelled at you, please.”

Nova frowned a little. She looked more embarrassed than upset. “I just wanted to see it. He’s nice.”

Do you think so?

“Yes, but ... he was asleep,” he excused himself, putting Hettie back on his bed. “He doesn't like it when people wake him up. But I see that for you that is not a problem, huh?”

Nova lowered her head. “Sorry…”

“Nah. Do not worry. We are fine. Are we fine?”

Nova nodded quickly. The good thing was she wasn't going to tell her uncle. Ace would kill him if he found out.

It wasn't like Winston cared much if he died or not though. It was just that he didn't want Ace to kill him. It would be a bit embarrassing considering his current condition.

“Would you like to see a puppet show?” Winston asked her.

“Puppets?” She turned to see the wooden bed. “Puppets like him?”

“His name is Hettie.”

“Hettie,” Nova repeated.

Winston found it adorable.

“No, other types of puppets,” he replied. “Puppets I make with this—” he waved his hands in front of her face “—with my little hands.”

Nova wrinkled her nose and gently pushed his hands away, letting out a loud, joyous laugh.

It was the first time she seemed happy since the first day he saw her. How nice it was to hear a child laugh.

Children generally yelled when they were near him.

“I do,” Nova replied enthusiastically. “How will you do it?”

Winston settled down beside her. “Okay, we'll need a flashlight first… do you have a flashlight?”

Nova thought for a few moments. “Yes!”

"Well, go for it!" he exclaimed pointing into the distance as if he were a pirate. "Run, Novie, run!"

And Nova laughed again.

Her laughter echoed through the tunnels and in Winston's head.

He stared at Hettie, listening to Nova's feet pacing through the tunnel in search of the flashlight she mentioned. At one point, Leroy's voice interrupted the sound of her footsteps and asked her what she was doing (in a slightly gentler tone than he used to address the rest of the world) ( very  slightly gentler tone). Nova replied that Winston was going to do a puppet show for her.

“How?” Leroy asked.

Winston rolled his eyes.  How else, Leroy?

“With my little hands,” Winston whispered to himself.

And Nova responded as if she had heard him.

“With his little hands!”

It was such a large flashlight that Nova had to carry it with both hands. Winston moved quickly to take it, but she drew back as if assuring him that she could carry it by herself.

These modern women.

Nova pressed the power button. It did not turn on. She hit the lantern a few times until finally, a yellowish light illuminated the tent like a torch. Winston blinked many times to get used to the sudden change of light.

“You’d be a great engineer,” he stammered. Nova looked at him as if she didn't understand. “Forget it. Aim it over… there,” and pointed to the area of the tent that had a wall behind it.

She obeyed. Winston crawled closer to the stage and wiped the sweat and dirt from his hands on the patched pants he wore.

That sounded so stupid. Stage. It wasn’t like he was going to act or something.

He shot Nova a look. She was expectant.

And smiling. Truly smiling.

That made Winston smile too.

He made the first shadow. “What animal is this?” he asked.

“A moose!”

Another giggle.

Another shadow. “And this one?”

“An elephant!”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner, ladies and gentlemen! And that was a difficult one!”

More giggles. More shadows. “For two hundred dollars more, Novie Artino, what is this animal?”

“It is easy!” she assured. “A goat!”

“Geez! You’re wrong!” Winston exclaimed. “It is not a goat! It's... Cyanide! Because he’s old and stubborn!”

He thought Nova wouldn't laugh. Cyanide was her favorite anarchist, and he knew it. However, that was the shadow that made her laugh the most. And the truth was Winston laughed even more.

“And wait, there’s more!” Winston went on. “Guess this one!”

Nova had a hand on her chin. “It's... it's a spider!”

“No! It's Phobia!”

“Because he’s ugly!” Nova laughed.

“He’s ugly indeed!”  What other shadow? What other shadow?  “And what about this one?”

“A duck!”

“What duck!” Winston laughed. “It's a swan!”

“It's Honey!” she screeched, pointing at the shadow with her finger.

“The one and only, Novie, the one and only!”

One more. A dog.

Nova immediately knew the answer. “Ingrid!”

“YES! BECAUSE SHE’S A TOTAL BITCH!”

At this point, both were laughing so hard they were almost out of breath.

If Leroy or any of the others had listened (which they surely had), Winston wouldn't mind at all if they got mad at him and ignored him for the rest of the week. They could pretend he didn't exist for the rest of his life and he wouldn't care. Seeing Nova happy made it all worth it.

Winston was happy too.

Nova wiped a small tear from her eye and looked at Hettie fondly. “Do you know what my mom did when I went to sleep?” she asked.

“What did she do?”

“She read me stories,” Nova replied. “She said that pretty stories would scare the nightmares away.”

Winston nodded. Probably someone had read stories to him when he was little, he just didn’t remember.

“Could you tell Hettie a story?” Nova begged. “Shadow puppets and everything. That way, he would have pretty dreams.”

Hettie? Dreams? Hettie couldn’t dream. And neither did Winston.

But he didn't want to ruin the mood.

“Of course.” He wiped the sweat on his pants. Again. “Let's see… Pay attention, Hettie. Your prettiest dream is about to start.”

He cleared his throat.

Pay attention, Hettie. Your worst nightmare is about to start.

“Once upon a time there was a rabbit,” Winston said, “that lived in the Land of Rabbits.” A rabbit shadow emerged from the corner of the stage. “The Land of Rabbits was… not a good place to live. There were eagles in the sky—” the eagle replaced the rabbit for a second “—that watched the rabbits, waiting for the first chance they got to eat them. So the rabbits had to hide in their tunnels.”

Nova stifled a comical gasp of astonishment.

“But there was this rabbit—”

“What was the rabbit’s name?”

Winston couldn't come up with a better name. “Hettie.”

Nova nodded in approval. “Did you hear, Hettie?” she asked the puppet. “You and the rabbit have the same name.”

You. You. It’s always you.

Everything always ends up being about you.

Fucking Hettie.

“Yeah, so Hettie was there. Being a rabbit.” Hettie Rabbit jumped happily throughout the light.

“He lived with Mama Rabbit and Papa Rabbit. They were the Rabbit family.”

“You say ‘rabbit’ a lot.”

Winston laughed, a little more tense than before.

Rabbit. Rabbit. Rabbit. Rabbit. Rabbit.

Hettie.

Fucking Hettie.

“But one day, Mama Rabbit and Papa Rabbit had to leave Hettie alone,” Winston continued. “And they left him with their friend…”

Hettie Rabbit became a hungry, violent, and heavy-breathing creature.

It became him .

“Their friend the wolf.”

Him. The wolf. The wolf. Him.

Hettie.

Winston sighed.  Fucking Hettie.

“So… so…”

So. So. So. So what happened?

Nova turned her head slightly. She had the same question.

Winston knew the Rabbit was a fucking idiot. What else happened to rabbits that entered the wolf's mouth? No one told that rabbit to go in there. But that rabbit had no other choice. He had nowhere else to go.

Or maybe he did have another place to go. If only he had been smarter…

“Um… Hey…”

If Hettie had been smarter, he would have warned Winston that when the wolves got too close, nothing good was going to happen to the rabbits.

But Hettie was a jerk.

Hettie. Hettie. Fucking Hettie.

“Winston!”

Her voice was like a needle that broke the bubble that enveloped him for a second.

“Novie?”

“What happened to Hettie?” she asked.

The mere question made his blood boil.

More shadows. The wolf, hungry and dangerous, on top of the rabbit, terrified and defenseless.

Nova was no longer smiling.

“Well, what happens to all rabbits,” he replied. “The wolf ate him. The end.”

The flashlight gave up and went off again.

Finally.

Winston turned to Nova. He didn't expect her to be happy. Winston certainly wasn't.

But he didn't expect to see her furious either.

“What a shitty story,” she spat.

“Excuse you?”

Nova stood up abruptly. Her turquoise pants were as dirty as his. “I said it was a shitty story. It isn’t like my mom’s stories.” She crossed her arms. “Do it again.”

“I won’t. I'm not going to tell another story,” Winston replied, standing up as well. “This is how it ends.” He walked over to her and put his finger on her chest. “El fin. The end. The end of all endings.”

“No!” Nova yelled as she clenched her fists and slammed her foot against the ground. “That is not the end!”

“I don’t care! It's my end!” Winston exclaimed imitating her. “Just like Hettie is my puppet! And I won't let you play with him!”

Nova's cheeks puffed out like a balloon. “Well, I'll play with him anyway!” she yelled, yanking Hettie off his bed. “You don't play with him! He feels alone! He told me!”

Winston tried to grab Hettie, but Nova pushed him away just in time.

It was a six-year-old girl versus a nineteen-year-old teenager. He could just kick her in the face and run.

But for some reason, he didn't do that. “Idiot!” he said taking Hettie’s arm. “Puppets don't talk!”

He tried to snatch it from her a second time. Nova grabbed his leg. “They talk to me!”

“It’s not true!” Winston insisted. “Liar! Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

Nova struggled too. “Your pants are on fire! You’re the liar!”

Hettie sided with Nova. You know that this is a very serious accusation, right? Why are you making up that kind of thing? Why are you lying to us, Winston?

Winston Pratt was many things. But he was not a liar.

He would never lie about that.

Why don’t you believe me? Why do you think I’m lying? I don’t want to make you suffer. Why would I want that? Only villains want to make people suffer.

Why would I be a villain?

Why would I be a liar?

He pulled Hettie toward him so hard, he ended up bringing Nova with him. She slammed into his chest and gave a slight groan.

Winston, not quite sure what he was doing, hugged her. He hugged her as he would have liked to be hugged.

When he told his parents the truth of his nightmares, his sleepless nights, and his constant fear, instead of covering him with kisses, hugs, and words of affection, they had called him a liar. Just like he had just called Nova.

He would never lie to them. Not about that.

Winston thought she would run away. He thought that she would also be terrified of any display of physical contact.

But Nova didn't. Nova hugged him too.

And Winston… Winston burst into tears.

Hysterically.

“Why are you crying?” Nova asked, worried.

“No, it's just... it's just...” he said between sobs. “It's just that I'm so sorry I made you angry.”

“I was not angry,” Nova corrected slightly defensively. “I panicked.”

That made him let out another sob. “Did I scared you?”

Nova clung to him tighter. “Yes. Your eyes changed.”

Winston sniffed with her purple jacket. “How?”

“They were... angry,” Nova explained. “Not sad. They didn't look like Hettie's.”

Winston separated from Nova. Hettie was crushed between the two of them. Despite the fight, he had remained intact.

Seeing him was like looking in a mirror.

Winston was not the puppeteer. He was a puppet.

It was Hettie’s fault. Winston’s fault.

Nova was looking at Hettie as well. She took him in her hands and caressed the buttons of the little suit with affection. Winston put his arm around Nova and gently shook her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry,” Nova replied. “I won’t tell my uncle.”

Winston tried to laugh, but all that came out of his mouth was another sob. “Thank you for your kindness.”

Nova turned to see him. “Don’t cry. Stop it,” she ordered sternly.

He stopped crying. It was like… magic. 

You have balls, Novie. You have balls.

Her expression changed from annoyed to astonished. “Your makeup isn’t ruined.”

Winston stroked his cheek thoughtfully. “It’s… it’s not makeup.”

Nova reached out her hand and caressed it as well. “It's your face,” she whispered.

“It's my face,” he repeated.

She sat on his outstretched leg, looked away from him, and didn't let go of Hettie.

“Did the wolf really eat the rabbit?” she asked.

You and your damn rabbit.

“Really, really,” he replied.

Nova frowned sadly. “Poor little thing…”

“Poor little thing?” Winston snorted. “He deserved it.”

“Why?” Nova asked, very confused.

Why not? Why wouldn't he deserve it?

“Because… he shouldn’t be hanging out with wolves.”

And Nova turned to see him as if he had said the greatest nonsense in the world. She crossed her arms again, and very confident of herself, she said, “But the wolf shouldn’t be eating rabbits in the first place.”

Winston raised his eyebrows.

She was not an idiot.

But that was not how the world worked.

Nova returned her attention to Hettie.

Seeing her there, sitting on top of him, so helpless and confident, made him realize that he couldn't let something bad happen to her.

Not like others had let it happen to him.

“Nova,” he called her. Nova raised her gaze from the puppet. “If you ... if you ever meet a wolf, you have to tell me.”

“There are no wolves in the city,” she chuckled. “But if I do, I'll tell you.”

Winston chuckled too. “No, I mean... a wolf is not just an animal,” he explained. He scratched his back. He fucking hated bugs, really. “A wolf can be anyone who makes you feel bad. Has someone ever made you feel bad?”

Nova had to stop to think about it. Winston felt his heart beat faster.

Finally, she replied, “Honey once told me that I had a terrible accent and she couldn’t understand a word I was saying.”

He sighed in relief. Winston didn't know how he would have reacted if Nova...

If the same had happened to Nova.

“Okay, that's Honey being Honey,” he assured. “I mean... if someone... you know.”

Nova wrinkled her nose. Of course, she didn't know.

It was good that she didn't know, right? Or was it bad?

“Look, for example... We hugged a while ago, right?”

“Yes.”

“And I have my arm on your shoulder—” he raised his arm slightly. “—And you touched my cheek—” he held her fingers “—and right now you're sitting on my leg.”

He moved his leg in such a way that it made Nova jump slightly. “Yes,” she replied with a laugh.

“And is that okay with you?”

Nova nodded.

“I am glad. But if someone ever touches you or puts you in a situation where you are afraid, feel bad, or do not understand... run away. And you tell me, or your uncle, or Leroy, Honey… heck, even tell Phobia or Ingrid. But tell someone.” He put his hands on her shoulders, hoping the despair didn't show in his high-pitched voice. “Don't be like the rabbit.”

Don't be like me.

“But the rabbit didn't know about the wolf.” She stroked Hettie's cheek the way she stroked Winston's a couple of minutes ago. “It wasn't Hettie's fault.”

It was useless. It didn't matter how many times Nova repeated it to him.

Winston knew it was his fault.

But he also didn't want to argue about it anymore. Now he didn't matter. Nova was the only thing that mattered.

Nova was everything.

“Nova. Please, Nova, do you swear you will tell someone if you find a wolf?”

Do you swear you will never be like me?

“My Uncle Ace says swearing is terribly wicked.”

He squeezed her shoulders lightly.

Ace could go fuck himself.

Winston wanted to be certain that she was going to be safe, that she knew what she had to know.

Nova had to know if something bad happened to her...

Winston couldn't speak for the other anarchists. He wanted to believe they would do the right thing, but people kept surprising him in the worst ways. But Winston needed Nova to confirm that she knew that if something bad happened to her, he was going to believe her with the same intensity that others had not believed him.

One thing they had in common was that neither of them was a liar.

“If you swear it to me, I'll let you play with Hettie.”

Her face lit up. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, seriously.”

Nova giggled. “I swear.”

Winston offered his fist and Nova bumped into it.

He was silent, but his mind was racing.

It didn't matter what happened in the future. Winston was going to believe Nova. Forever. Because Nova wasn't going to be like him. And he wasn't going to be like the people who hurt him, either.

“Do you want to play with Hettie?” he whispered to her.

Nova stared at Hettie for a few more seconds. She smiled at him and returned him to his bed with the delicacy that only a girl her age could have. “No. He is already asleep. Tomorrow will be another day.”

And before Winston could respond, Nova squeezed his hand in such a way that she inadvertently pushed him into the void.

Winston fell asleep.

He slept better than he had in a long time.