#temp tag: tommy

[listcners-archived]

“I heard you crying, so i brought you some cocoa…” {Ranboo to Tommy lol}

"I wasn't.. crying" tommy sniffled frown on his face, but it was easy to see it was a lie. he was curled up under a pile of blankets eyes still red from tears. He wasn't fighting the comment though instead reaching out to the cup that was being offered to him. "But thanks."

[redcladremx]

i'm going to pretend like i didn't see that. {Sam to Tommy}

Tommy was frozen, hands still clutching his disc that he had been in the middle of remaring after a fight gone bad a couple of nights ago. Other pieces of his vigilante work were scattered around him, including part of his suit that also needed repair. This couldn't be happening. He was always so careful and he just blew it because he thought Sam wasn't home!

"Aha, see what? There's nothing to see." He laughed nervously trying to tuck away the disc behind him, put his body in between Sam and the clothing on his desk. "Its just.. a Halloween costume ya know? Cause, cause Halloween coming up right?" Granted Tommy hadn't worn a costume or gone tick or treating in a good few years now...

[lillaydee]

Coulda

Asshole/Idiotic Joel Miller / F Reader

You found the perfect man. The man of your dreams. Unfortunately, you were not the only one who thought so.

WARNINGS: Angst, Jealousy, Heartbreak, bff, The Other Woman, Joel Miller is a blind idiot, Joel Miller is an asshole, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Miscarriage.

Tagging those who commented on the Wips I posted before - let me know if you want to be removed k?

@bergamote-catsandbooks @joelalorian @letsgobarbs @jessthebaker

MASTER LIST

You were a temp at the company he was building for, still going through college. He was just a small time contractor. Just starting out. It was him alone then, his brother not yet part of his company. He came to your window to collect his weekly payment. When he smiled at you, you felt as if you were struck by lightning. Your entire body lit up. You even looked around behind you to see if there was any gorgeous woman behind you that he was smiling at. But no, he was smiling at you.

There began the small talk, the subtle flirting, the lingering looks and smiles. He began letting others go ahead of him in the line, wanting to stay back to talk to you. He usually came in on Fridays, one of the three days you worked.

You had exams two Fridays in a row and did not go to work. You wondered if he looked for you, if he flirted with the girls who took over from you. You wondered if he asked them about you. If he thought about you at all.

The Friday you came back, you waited anxiously as the line of contractors walked in for their payments, butterflies filling your stomach as you looked forward to see his gorgeous face again. And then you saw him walk in, eyes down, a serious look on his face. He stood in the queue with a sourpuss on, not realizing you were back, and his face lit up like Christmas came early when he heard your voice greet him and realized it was you at the window, that you had come back.

“I thought I was never gonna see you again,” he had mumbled.

“Oh, I’m just a temp here. I had exams the last couple of weeks. So…”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips. He took his cheque and said a soft good bye – there were people behind him waiting for their payments. So he didn’t linger. He did stop before leaving, as if contemplating, but he left, nonetheless.

You found him in the parking lot, waiting for you. You asked him if there was something he needed, if he had forgotten something? He said yes, he did forget something. He was flustered. Hands in pockets, shoulders up to his ears, head down, asking you if you would want to go out with him.

“Didn’t like not seeing you like that,” he said, a shy smile on his lips, his hand going the back of his neck, absent-mindedly scratching a non-existent itch. “I didn’t want to go weeks without seeing you again.”

God, you were flattered. He was extremely good looking. You knew the other ladies in the office had eyes on him. They all looked forward to Fridays, all clamouring to get your position at the window just to talk to him. They all gave you the evil eye when you came back to work this week. Apparently, both girls who took your spot the last two Fridays had told everyone that all he did beside signing his name on the form was ask if you were coming back.  

He took you out for a drink that night. A movie the next night. Dinner the night after that.

He called you every single day when you went back to your hometown for the break. Drove all the way over to pick you up when your break was over a few weeks later.

When he kissed you for the first time, you saw stars.

And when he made love to you, you swore he took you to heaven and back.

My God, you were stupid in love, and there was nothing anyone could say to snap you out of it.

Your friends were jealous, yet extremely happy for you. His family loved you. His parents introduced you as their new daughter to their friends. His brother Tommy called you the sister he never had. The man himself spoiled the living shit out of you. You were his reason for living, he told you. He was head over heels in love with you. He wanted to marry you. Have babies with you. Grow old with you.

Oh, how blessed your life was.

About two years after the two of you started dating, he finally introduced you to her.

Her.

They had been friends forever. They were BFFs. Best friends forever. But as far as you were aware, they were never a couple. That much was made very clear. Apparently, he was not her kind of man. Her kind of man comes from a certain background, and he was not that kind of a man. He had never been and never will be.

You know, the old money kind. 

His Mama worked for her family. The domestic. She used to bring him along back when they couldn’t afford daycare. They became friends. They went to different schools when school started, but he still went to her house when his Mama worked during the school holidays. The family took him and his Mama along on vacations, let him hang around at parties when his Mama worked, and the two just spent their time entertaining each other during those boring adult parties and vacations. Their lives were vastly different, but they were inseparable.

So they remained friends. He was always a shoulder for her to cry on. Her port in a storm. And boy oh boy was she caught in a slew of them throughout their friendship. Every single time those old money kinda men broke her heart, Joel was there to pick up the pieces and put her together again. And he would be her everything, until she found the next one who was her kind of man.

It was during her haze of being with one such man that he met you.

He introduced you to her when she came back for the holidays. It wasn’t due to his lack of trying that you had never met her, it was just logistics. She lived overseas with her suitor. They only came back for the holidays because they got engaged, so the holidays had a dual purpose.

She shrieked when she realized it was you, the woman her BFF had not been able to shut up about. She hugged you tight and called you sis. She dragged you around to introduce you to her family. Everyone was excited to meet you. So this was the woman who got Joel Miller down on his knees, they teased. Joel stood next to you, red in the face, his hand on yours, fingers entwined, happy that his second family was so accepting and approving of you.

Throughout her stay, she included you in her hangouts. Her friends were very nice, surprisingly not the hoity-toity rich kids you thought they would be at all. They were all married to their high school sweethearts, some of whom were Joel’s former classmates, all working and living a simple life away from their wealthy upbringing.

You were happy. You met the man of your dreams, his family loved you, his friends loved you, and most important of all, he loved you.

Your family adored him. Not only was he a gentleman, but he was also kind, loving, caring, and extremely respectful of your family. Your Mom couldn’t stop gushing about him. Your Dad was over the moon that you had brought home a good, hardworking man to introduce to him. He had no doubt Joel Miller would take good care of his little girl.

When your parents visited during your college graduation, his family invited your family around for dinner. You and Joel sat at the table and watched as your parents talked to each other as if they were lifelong friends, your Moms gossiping about the latest shared favourite soap opera drama at the table as if the characters were someone they both knew, practically squirming with anger at the antagonistic girl that had just spoiled the protagonist’s wedding day. Your Dads talked politics, both moaning about the state of the country, your brother and Tommy shaking their heads at the abysmal performance their favourite team had put forth so far.

Just before they left town, Joel took your Dad and brother out for a drink. They came home to your shared apartment drunk but happy, His Dad and Tommy winking at you as they dropped the three men off.

The morning your family were due to leave town, the two families came together for brunch. Instead of orange juice, you were served mimosas, and Joel got on his knee and asked you to marry him.

Oh, how perfect your life was.

When she was told, she called you, absolutely elated with happiness and excitement that her BFF was getting married. She had gone back to the country she was living in at that point and called you every other week to ask about wedding plans. You and Joel planned to marry soon, a small wedding, just close family and friends. Hers on the other hand was due to take place the year after, a huge celebration on an exotic island. Her fiancé was a prominent figure, small town weddings simply won’t do.

When the date was all set and looming, Joel received news that she had called off her engagement. Typical of a wealthy, good-looking man that her fiancé was, she found out he had other ladies. The ones he had at the ready at every single business locations he had been leaving her at home alone for over the years they had been together. She called your fiancé, her BFF, absolutely broken and shattered, crying into the phone for hours. He stayed online with her, consoling his best friend, telling her he was there for her, that she deserved better, that she could always come back home and start over.

She called you a week before your wedding to apologize for not being able to attend. She was too heartbroken, too sensitive, too fragile to attend an event where love was the centre of attention to go. She didn’t want to take away from your special day, would rather not attend only to take attention away from the beautiful bride by bursting into tears in the corner. To make up for it, she was sending you and Joel away on a dream honeymoon, all paid for, first class everything, only the best for her best friend and the woman of his dreams, she told you.

Joel was understandably disappointed that his best friend wouldn’t be attending his big day, but even he could understand how upsetting it would be for her to attend. You could too, how could one sit there and celebrate someone else’s love when your own had been shattered into smithereens?

The big day arrived. Everything was going perfectly. The ceremony went down without a hitch. Joel cried his eyes out when he saw you walk down the aisle. The two of you practically sobbed your way through the vows, both far too emotional and happy that this day had come.

And when the two of you kissed for the first time as husband and wife, you felt as if you were in a protective bubble, safe and sound, just the two of you, ready to take your next steps into the world as a couple, the start of your own little happy family.

The reception was a dream. The food was wonderful, the music was perfect. Everyone was just happy for the two of you. You couldn’t take your eyes off your new husband, and he, you. He didn’t let go of your hand all night, whispering naughty things to you, getting you all worked up and shy from his teasing, telling you the things he was going to do to you the moment the two of you were alone.

The two of you were lost in each other during the first dance, bodies together, cheek to cheek, both elated to have found each other. Everyone was standing around the dance floor, practically cooing at the sight of the two of you, happy and in love, the beautiful, loving couple.

And then the door to the hall opened with a dramatic bang. So loud the music stopped.

She was standing there, looking drop dead gorgeous, in a white dress.

And not just any white dress either.  

Her beautiful, very-expensive, dripping-in-crystals-and-money, opulent, ballroom-style-wedding-gown, custom-made white dress.

She walked towards the dance floor, her Louboutin stilettos cracking like gunshots as she made her way to you and your new husband. She hugged you, whispering a teary congratulations, asking you if she could cut in.

It was as if you had floated out of your body, watching as your body in the simple white dress, the one that now looked like a worn out hospital gown compared to her grand, intricate, one-of-a-kind Vera Wang, step to the side, allowing her to take your place in your new husband’s arms.

And he, in return, pulled her close, told her how beautiful she looked, turned to the band and told them to continue.

You, along with the rest of your stunned guests and family, watched as he twirled her around the dance floor, on your wedding day, during what should have been your first dance, dancing to the music you had chosen to commemorate this happy occasion for you and him. But here you were, standing at the sideline as he swayed with her instead of you.  

You could have said something, but your tongue was tied. You could have cut back in, but you didn’t want to make a scene. You could have walked out of there, but your feet were glued to the ground.

You coulda.

Woulda

[ak-vintage]

From the Ground Up - Chapter 4

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x OFC ("Reader" Format/Second Person POV)

Series Summary: After getting laid off from your job, you are forced to move back in with your parents until you can get back on your feet. You can't help but feel like you have started your life over again at square one, but when your dad's best friend offers his help in the form of a job at his burgeoning construction business, you learn that maybe there is more than one path to the life of your dreams.

Chapter Summary: Your first day at Miller Brothers Construction brings you many surprises, not all of them work-related.

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Second-person POV. No use of Y/N. Mild anxiety and overthinking. The very first stirrings of attraction... 😏 (Still 18+ like the rest of my blog.)

Word Count: 6.4K

Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The Miller Brothers Construction office was located in South Austin, tucked back a bit from the main road in a long, narrow plaza full of other small businesses and storefronts. The building itself appeared to be more than a few decades old, likely a remnant from a larger strip mall complex, but it was clean and well-maintained in spite of its age. Their unit sat almost precisely in the middle of the plaza, nestled between a real estate agency’s satellite office and a temp firm, both of whom looked as though they had been leasing their units since the building’s construction. In comparison to their neighbors’ sun-bleached, time-worn signs and window decals, the sleek, sharp black and orange of the Millers’ signage was undeniably eye-catching – visible from the road even with the distance.

Pulling your car into one of the many available spaces, you caught sight of Joel’s pickup truck a few rows over. As expected, he was already here.

You shifted into park and checked the time on your console clock. 9:52 – just a few minutes earlier than promised, exactly as you had hoped. Flipping down your visor, you took a moment to touch up your reflection – tucking away an errant lock of hair, running the pad of your ring finger over your glossed lips to blot them a little, checking that nothing of your breakfast remained in your teeth. You had struggled for nearly an hour that morning picking out your outfit. What did one wear to something that wasn’t exactly a job interview (but also kind of was) at a small, family-owned construction company run by your father’s closest friend and business partner?

In the end, you had opted to err on the side of more formal than was likely necessary – a flowy blouse with a tasteful neckline tucked in to a pair of high-waisted, well-tailored trousers, modest flats, minimal jewelry – and told yourself that you would gauge what to wear next time based on Joel and Tommy’s attire.

You scoffed quietly to yourself, rolling your eyes at how you had only just accepted this job, and you were already managing to overthink it. The Miller brothers probably couldn’t give two shits about what you wore to work as long as it was clean.

Still… You wanted to make a good first impression. No matter how staunch the elder Miller had been in his insistence that he had offered you this job based on a legitimate business need, you couldn’t seem to ignore the voice in your head that maintained that he saw you as a charity case. At any point, he could look at you and decide that this had been a mistake, that you were more work than you were worth, and that he would be better off looking for somebody who had more experience in this industry. After all, anything had to be better than his buddy’s daughter who just so happened to be down on her luck.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, you gathered up all of your anxieties and shoved them deep down inside of you, locking them securely away behind your navel in the pit of your stomach. They wouldn’t serve you here; you could unpack them later.

Your entry into the building was heralded by the jingling of many sleigh bells, and you glanced down to find a strand of them tied rather haphazardly to the inside handle of the door. In addition to the bells, you could hear the local mix radio station piping softly through a series of speakers flush-mounted to the ceiling, as well as the distant sound of male voices talking, too low for you to make out any words but loud enough to know that you were not alone in the office.

Before you sat a small, sparsely-furnished waiting room made up of two black vinyl armchairs and a matching sofa, a coffee table strewn with catalogues and construction magazines, and a mounted flatscreen TV that seemed to be set to display a slideshow of photographs. Shiny images of in-progress projects, completed properties, and ribbon cuttings scrolled by at a leisurely pace, showing off the wide variety of work Miller Brothers had completed over the years. Along the opposite wall stretched a series of well-polished cherry wood cabinets finished with matte black fixtures and a gleaming white quartz countertop. The counter was bare and a bit dusty, as though it had been installed for a reason, but the project had been left unfinished. A large vinyl decal of the Miller Brothers logo took up much of the remaining wall, and through an open doorway directly across from you, you could see a long, narrow hallway that disappeared into shadow toward the rear of the unit.

“Hello?” you called out tentatively, taking a handful of steps deeper into the waiting room.

For a moment, only silence greeted you, but then a voice reached your ears from somewhere down that hallway. “Be right with ya!”

This was followed by the immediate opening and closing of a door and then the dull sound of heavy boots on thin, industrial carpet. Glancing up, you smiled as you spotted Tommy Miller making his way down the hallway toward you.

“Ah, look who it is!” he crowed, dark eyes crinkling at the corners with his grin. Extending a rugged, calloused hand for you to shake, he continued, “Heard we’d be gettin’ a visit from you today! Welcome to the crew!”

You accepted the handshake with enthusiasm. “Thank you! Happy to be here.”

“Come on back with me, sweetheart. Joel’s just in his office. I think he’s finishing up on the phone with a client.” Tommy pointed a thumb over his shoulder, beckoning you to follow him.

“Oh, I can wait here. I don’t want to interrupt – ”

“Nonsense, he’s just about done.”

The younger Miller brother proved a challenge to keep up with, long legs clad in well-worn denim with enough dust on the hems to tell  you that he had already been out to at least one job site that morning. About halfway down the hall, he paused outside the second door on the right, and you noted that it had been cracked open ever so slightly, enough that you could hear Joel’s low voice from inside. Knocking softly against the doorframe, Tommy nudged the door open a bit further.

“Joel.”

The man in question glanced up from where he had been staring at his desk, dogeared spiral-bound notebook spread open in front of him as he hurriedly took notes. The black, corded receiver of an old-school desk phone pressed into the space between his ear and his shoulder as he wrote, and in spite of his obvious preoccupation, he still spared you a smile when he spotted you in the doorway.

“Be with you in just a minute, darlin’,” he murmured, voice soft, pen still skipping across the page even as he greeted you. “Have a seat.”

Beside you, Tommy gestured for you to take one of the two guest chairs that sat opposite Joel’s desk, clearly intended for clients. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need anythin’, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel said, his focus back on his phone call as his younger brother ducked out of the room. “Absolutely, I understand. I’ll send one of my guys out to the property first thing in the morning.”

Settling into one of the proffered chairs to wait, you took the opportunity to study the surrounding office. It was cramped, and you had a sneaking suspicion that the furniture that occupied it had been left behind by the previous tenants of the storefront and simply had never been replaced. With the exception of the sleek black desktop computer and the matching printer, most everything else appeared to have been manufactured in the late 80s.

“All right. Yes, ma’am. Have a good day now.”

Only a handful of personal touches adorned the space. Two pictures in mismatched frames – one of Sarah in a soccer uniform and another of him and Tommy – sat atop a filing cabinet in the corner, and a calendar featuring landscape photography of the American southwest hung on the wall beside his desk. Next to his keyboard, an oversized mug bearing the slogan “Dad: The Man, The Myth, The Legend” in bold red lettering had been filled to the brim with an assortment of pens, pencils, and highlighters. Two tiny flags on thin, wooden dowels stood mixed with the writing utensils – one the blocky red, white, and blue of the Texas flag, and one the unmistakable green, white, and red of Mexico.

“Of course, ma’am, always happy to help. All right, talk soon. Yes, you, too. Buh-bye.”

With a quiet, restrained sigh, Joel hung the phone receiver back in its cradle and ran the heel of his hand over his eyes. Fatigue clung to his shoulders, to his neck, to the crows’ feet in the corners of his eyes. You wondered absently how much sleep he had gotten the night before or if perhaps this was just his perpetual state of being while at work. You supposed you would be finding out soon enough.

Drawing a deep, cleansing breath, he seemed to rally, recentering his focus on you and offering you a ghost of a smile. “Mornin’, darlin’!” he said, a touch weary but still warm, still welcoming. “Sorry about that, I was hoping to be wrapped up with my phone calls by the time you got here.”

“It’s no trouble,” you assured him earnestly. You had hardly been here for more than a minute. You remembered sitting in the lobby of your previous job for nearly half an hour waiting on somebody from HR to come and escort you to your desk. The tail-end of a single phone call was nothing.

“Did you find the place okay?”

You nodded readily. “Yeah, just fine.”

Joel ducked his chin in approval. “Not a bad commute, I think.”

“No, not at all.”

Leaning back a bit in his chair, he crossed his arms over his broad chest, and you took note of what he was wearing for the first time. A short-sleeved cotton button-down in a dark blue plaid, the color complimentary against his deeply tanned skin, tucked into a pair of well-fitted but worn jeans. The fabric strained across his shoulders and around his biceps, not too small per se but not loose, either, the seams pushed to the limit by the way he held himself. You could see just the smallest peek of a white undershirt at the open V of his collar.

“You know, Tommy and I used to work out of my spare bedroom when we first started out,” he continued, snapping your attention back to his words instead of his thick, corded forearms and wide shoulders. “It was one of the reasons I bought that house – there was actually space for more than just me and Sarah. But eventually…even that extra space wasn’t enough.”

You had the vaguest memories of coming home from college on breaks and watching your dad traipsing across the lawn for meetings with Joel. During the early days of their acquaintance, formed out of a shared love of the Rangers, the outdoors, and good Texas barbecue, the two had talked shop often – reviewing available parcels of land, dreaming about what they could become. The Millers had been your parents’ next-door neighbors for nearly a year before your father made Joel an official offer of a build contract. Their first of countless fruitful partnerships over the years, born from the ease of friendship.

“How long have you been in this office?” you asked.

“Comin’ up on three years this fall. And we were long overdue for it before then.” There was an undeniable note of pride in the older man’s voice at the confession. “Why don’t I show you around?”

A grin quirked the corners of your lips, and you nodded. “I’d like that.”

As you expected, the Miller Brothers office proved to be rather small. Other than the lobby where you had entered, there were only a handful of other rooms left for you to explore.

Just down the hall from Joel’s office was Tommy’s, similarly furnished though significantly more cluttered. Seated behind his desk with a set of over-ear headphones on, the younger Miller spared you a smile and a mock salute through his open door as you walked by. There was also a conference room on the other side of the hall, equipped with a desktop projector, a half-empty water cooler in the far corner, and a set of eight matching desk chairs all clustered around a long, worn, wooden table. “For safety briefings with the builders. Or when supplier reps are in town,” Joel explained.

A pair of single-stall bathrooms and a minimally-furnished break room rounded out the space. Nothing to write home about but still perfectly serviceable. You made a mental note to ask if there was anything Joel and Tommy liked to keep stocked in these more communal spaces. Everything was so barren, so utilitarian and cold. You could think of half a dozen things off the top of your head that might make the office a more comfortable place to work, both for them and for their clients.

The last stop on the brief tour was a large L-shaped desk that had been stationed in a corner outside the break room. Like Joel and Tommy’s desks, it appeared to have been left behind by the previous tenants, its camel-colored steel drawers and faux-wood top standing out against the minimal, modern sleekness of the rest of the office. To your eyes, it looked as though it had been shoved into this corner during renovations and simply forgotten about since; it was positively smothered in junk.

Material and finishing catalogues, equipment manuals, clipboards, notebooks, and boxes of miscellaneous office supplies covered most of the desk’s surface. Spilling out from the detritus, you also spotted rolls of blueprints covered in red-pen notes, a few stacks of books, and a seemingly endless supply of file-folders, some full of paperwork, others empty. A few tools had been abandoned here, as well – a couple of hammers, a set of screwdrivers, a level, a tape measure. A black desktop computer peeked out of the heaping pile, seemingly long-buried, and a thin coating of dust covered every inch of it that had been left exposed.

“And this right here would be your desk.”

You startled at the sound of Joel’s voice, the low drawl yanking you out of your slightly stupefied examination of the dumping ground he had revealed to you. Whipping your head around to look him in the eye, you hit him with an incredulous stare. You could feel your jaw hanging open, your lips working as if to form words, but none came. You were well and truly speechless.

A faint tinge of pink bloomed on the tips of Joel’s ears as he took in your silent, dumbfounded expression. Scratching the back of his neck, shifting his weight from foot to foot, he continued, “I know it’s a bit…cluttered. But I’m sure you’ll be able to make sense of it all eventually.”

It took every ounce of professionalism in your body not to laugh at the sentiment. Cluttered? What an understatement. And he wanted you sort through it all?

Just what had you signed yourself up for?

Instead, you wrestled your face into something a bit more neutral and stammered, “You have…a lot of faith in me.”

Joel huffed a laugh and nodded. “I do.”

“Are you sure there’s even a desk under there?”

The telltale pink flush spilled from his ears to his cheeks then down his weather-worn neck, and his dark eyes rolled with good-natured embarrassment. “Ha ha,” he quipped, dry and charming and so very much like a dad that you couldn’t help but push a bit farther.

“What kind of filing system even is this?” you asked pointedly, and he shrugged.

“The kind where I just know where stuff is.”

You arched an eyebrow at that, folding your arms dubiously across your chest.

“Well. Mostly.” Joel cleared his throat and ran his long, thick fingers through his hair, tousling his curls. “Well, what do you think? Have I scared you away?”

Drawing a deep breath, you glanced once more at the foreboding pile of rubbish. It was intimidating, to be sure, but there was also a part of you that buzzed at the opportunity to sort through it all. Ever since you were a child, you had been tidy – being anything other than neat and clean in your mother’s house had been unacceptable, even when you were young. A place for everything, and everything in its place. Now as an adult, you would be lying if you said you didn’t find satisfaction in it; cleaning out closets and organizing pantries had become something of a hobby of yours.

And you were damn good at it, too.

“No, I’m not scared,” you assured him, offering him a wry smile. “I’m a little surprised, but I can handle it. I’ll get it taken care of.”

The bashful look on Joel’s face vanished at your confident assertion, and the wrinkles around his eyes deepened as he grinned back. “That’s what I like to hear.” Gesturing back down the hallway, he continued, “C’mon. Let’s get your onboarding paperwork filled out and get you on the payroll, eh?”

Not quite half an hour later found you flourishing your signature across the last of your employment forms, your hand cramping around the grip of the pen as you added the date to the accompanying line. Apparently, Joel hadn’t been exaggerating when he said that everything at Miller Brothers was still done with pen and paper – what would have taken you less than 15 minutes to do electronically had turned into a bit of an ordeal by hand. Researching contract management software was added to your mental to-do list before you finished the first form.

Gathering up the small stack of paperwork you had accumulated over the last 30 minutes, Joel slipped it all into a manila folder that he had labeled with your name and tucked it away in his desk. “I think that should be everything I need from an official standpoint,” he said, folding his hands in front of him as he leaned back in his chair. “You got any question so far?”

You shrugged a shoulder and smirked. “When can I start?”

The older man laughed, a real laugh, full and warm and nothing like the little rasping huffs you had drawn from him countless times over the years. You had caught him off-guard, and something about the surprise and the joy in his laughter had butterflies nesting in your belly.

“Today, if you like,” he replied, eyes twinkling with mirth. “I know we didn’t really talk about it ahead of time, but we’re ready to have you hit the ground running as soon as you’re able. So really, whenever works best for you.”

“I’d be happy to start today.”

He nodded, pleased. “Good. Any other questions?”

Your eyes flicked to his casual button-down and well-loved blue jeans. “Do you have a dress code you’d like me to follow when I’m in the office?”

With a quirked brow, he straightened in his seat. “Oh! Huh.” He scratched his stubbly beard, looking away as he considered your question. “Hadn’t really thought about that, to be honest. I guess…use your best judgment? Whatever you think is appropriate is fine with me. I trust you.”

You made no attempt to suppress a scoffing laugh this assertion, so plain and simple and bold as if it wasn’t the most generous thing anyone had said to you in a while. “It’s my first day, Joel,” you reminded him, pointed but not unkind.

“And you’re doin’ a mighty fine job,” he quipped. The smile had returned to his lips, though softer, smaller now, the corners tucking into his cheek teasingly.

“I just want to make sure that if you’re wanting to…project a certain image to your clients or something that I’m meeting that expectation.” Absently you tugged at the collar of your blouse, one you had often worn to the office in your previous job. It was clear now that you had gotten a look at Joel and Tommy’s preferred workwear that you had overdressed today. But…maybe that was what they wanted? “I want to be a good representative of your brand.”

Joel did not reply immediately. Instead, he seemed to take a moment to study you. You watched as his warm, dark eyes drifted from your styled hair to the dainty necklace at your throat to the collar where your hand fussed and fidgeted. His gaze softened the longer he looked, his expression almost fond, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he could see in you that would inspire a look like that.

“Darlin’,” he said, voice low and earnest after the prolonged silence, “the fact that you’re even thinking about that kind of thing tells me I have nothing to worry about. Besides, you’ve been in this kind of…corporate environment longer than I have. You’d know better than me what’s office appropriate – you forget, I used to go home covered in dirt and sawdust every day. Still do, on occasion.”

Just as they had been around the fire pit in his back yard, and just as they had been on your parents’ front porch swing, his words – simple and honest – were like a balm to your frayed nerves. You felt yourself drawing a soft breath of relief as the knots in your belly calmed and loosened. Not for the first time, you marveled at how Joel always managed to see you, no matter what kind of front you were trying to maintain. It was a heady thing, to be so quietly yet consistently perceived.

“Okay,” you agreed. “But if you see me in anything that doesn’t meet your expectations, I want you to tell me. I won’t get offended – promise.”

He huffed a laugh through his nose. “Deal.”

It was quiet then, and the silence settled full but comfortable around your shoulders as you held the older man’s gaze from across his desk. Months of searching, applying, interviewing. Weeks of staring out the window of your childhood bedroom, trying and failing to drown out the constant noise and overbearing presence of your parents. You could hardly believe all of it was coming to an end. Of course, you would still be going home to the house you grew up in at the end of the day, but every day you spent at Miller Brothers was another step closer to regaining your independence. The salary Joel and Tommy were offering you was more than fair for the work, and although it was a pay cut from what you had been making in Dallas, the gap was smaller than you had anticipated. You would be able to start paying off some credit cards, setting some aside for a rental deposit…

And it was all thanks to him.

It occurred to you then, as the silence between stretched on, past the moment where it ought of have turned awkward but somehow didn’t, that Joel Miller was perhaps one of the most handsome men you had ever met.

Naturally, this was not the first time you had thought this – it was a simple fact, impossible to miss. I fact, it had been the very first thing you had ever noticed about him the day your father introduced you. But that had been years ago, and he had been a stranger to you then. Now, that handsomeness which anyone could see had become something a bit more personal, a bit less objective. You couldn’t put your finger on precisely what it was, but something in the warmth of his eyes, the curl of his smile, the assuredness of his hands had your stomach churning and your cheeks heating.

And the way he spoke to you – like the two of you were equals, like you were someone whose thoughts and opinions held weight, like you mattered… Every time your eyes met, he managed to make you feel like the only person in the world. It was intense, but in a way that felt safe and steadying rather than intimidating.

This Joel was more than simply handsome. He was attractive.

…You were attracted to him.  

The thought, dancing through your mind like a ribbon caught in the breeze, almost had you surging to your feet and making for the door immediately. It was a foolish notion, completely ridiculous and naive and, god, so wrong.

He was more than 15 years your senior, a father, your boss, for god’s sake. And, of course, there was the small matter of him being your dad’s favorite business partner and his closest friend.

No. God, no. You weren’t attracted to Joel Miller. You were grateful. You were appreciative. You admired him.

That was all.

It wasn’t – couldn’t be – anything more than that.

As though he could sense the shift in your energy, the way you had suddenly tensed and begun to fidget in your seat, Joel drew a deep breath and brought his palms down on the surface of his desk with a sense of finality.

“Well, if you’d like to start attempting to make sense of that pile of nonsense that is your desk, you’re welcome to it. I – ” He paused, checking the watch on his wrist. “ – have a meeting with the architect for the Langston property in a few minutes that I should probably prep for. Anythin’ else you need from me before I set you loose?”

You swallowed thickly and shook your head, shoving the dangerous and inappropriate path your thoughts had just taken to the back of your mind.

“Not just yet.” Getting to your feet, you offered him your hand, and though he looked at you a bit dubiously for a moment, he accepted it. Thick, warm fingers wrapped around yours, and you felt an unexpected and deeply unwelcome wave of heat flood the back of your neck at the feel of his skin against yours. “Thank you again, Joel,” you said, professional, friendly, not at all nervous. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

His soft smile twisted slightly, his expression puzzled but pleasant as he replied, “Likewise, darlin’.”

Your desk, as you had feared, was an utter nightmare, but it proved to be the perfect distraction from the distressing, Joel Miller-shaped thoughts now percolating on the edges of your awareness.

After ducking out of his office so quickly you nearly tripped over the low-pile industrial carpeting, you threw yourself headlong into the first task of your new job. The sheer mountain of rubbish smothering the piece of furniture was more than a little intimidating at first, but as time passed, the chaos of the abandoned junk and long-forgotten office supplies started to coalesce into something resembling an organizational system. You took the liberty of borrowing an office chair from the conference room and dragging a half-empty garbage can out of the break room, and the rest of the morning melted away as you sorted things into piles, tossed boxes and wrappers and outdated catalogues into the trash, and set aside the not-insignificant collection of tools you unearthed along the way.

Just as you were starting to mull over how you might want to organize the drawers of your desk (once you could get to them, that was), a voice – drawling and friendly – pulled you from the depths of your concentration.

“Well, look at that.” You glanced up from the collection of blueprints you were re-rolling and rubber-banding to find Tommy, dusty white hard hat tucked under one arm, leaning against the corner across from your desk. Pointing at the scant stretch of clear, flat wood you had managed to unearth over the last few hours, he continued, “Is that an empty surface I see?”

You laughed, and something close to sarcasm crept into your tone as you replied, “Don’t get used to it – at the rate I’m going, it will probably disappear in a second.”

Tommy chuckled and shrugged, wide Miller shoulders straining against the seams of his red t-shirt. “Progress is progress, sweetheart. You’re already makin’ a dent – that’s what matters.”

“If you say so.” You added the latest blueprint to the fragile stack of others you had discovered and turned to face him fully. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothin’ – don’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to see if you were hungry.”

Your brows raised. “Hungry?” you echoed. You really must have lost track of the time. Was it lunchtime already?

He nodded and pushed off from the wall, taking a step toward you. “Yeah, me and Joel gotta run out to a client site for a bit, but we’re gonna pick up lunch on the way back. Can we get you something?”

Your response, canned and instinctual, started to spill from your lips before he had even finished the question. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

Tommy, however, brushed off your protests as though they hadn’t even reached him. “Sure, we do!” he replied with an easy grin. “Not gonna leave you out! Especially not on your first day.”

He said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world – as if he truly couldn’t imagine a reality in which the two of them didn’t offer such a thing even when you were fully capable of stepping out and picking up your own meal should you want one. It was generous, thoughtful, two traits you had never expected from an employer before today.

“Fine. But just this once,” you acquiesced softly. You reached for your purse, which you had stowed underneath your desk as you worked. “Here, let me give you some cash for my share – ”

The man scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking one large step back down the hall. “Who do you think we are? C’mon, now.”

“Tommy, I can’t – ”

“Sure, you can, and you will,” he interrupted, firm but still smiling. “Look, if it makes you feel better, it all goes on the company card anyway, so you aren’t gonna owe me or Joel nothin’. Think of it like a ‘welcome to the team’ present, if you want to. But you put that wallet away, you hear?”

Sighing, and with a not-so-subtle roll of your eyes, you obliged, dropping your purse back down onto the floor by your feet. “Happy?” you snarked good-naturedly.

He barked a laugh. “Thrilled, sweetheart.”

With Joel and Tommy wrapped up in meetings for the remainder of the day, and reenergized by a belly full of what had been the best tacos al pastor you had ever eaten delivered to your desk still piping hot, the rest of the work day melted away. After weeks living at the center of a hurricane, the near-perfect silence of the Miller Brothers office was incredibly peaceful. You worked calmly, methodically, labeling file folders and sorting builder’s notes and creating several small stacks of paperwork that appeared to require some kind of follow-up from one of the owners. Outstanding purchase orders, build contract change orders, copies of permits and other official-looking documentation stamped with the seal of the city of Austin – you weren’t touching any of those until Joel or Tommy gave you some kind of direction.

Late afternoon found you sitting on the carpeted floor, legs crisscrossed beneath you as you dug your way through a box of half-used office supplies that you suspected had been left behind by the previous unit tenants. Much like the office furniture, it was a relic of another time; a hefty stack of crinkled, continuous form paper took up most of the box, and you marveled at the vintage, fanlike length of perforated stationary. So wrapped up in the discovery were you that you didn’t register the heavy, muffled sound of approaching footsteps.

“Hey there – whoa!”

You startled with a gasp, gaze snapping up from the box to the source of the greeting. You found Joel Miller hovering on the other side of your desk, head cocked to the side, brow furrowed deeply in confusion as he stared down at where you sat. “Joel,” you breathed, hand coming up to press against your thumping chest. “Hey.”

“You okay down there?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m good.” You supposed you probably did look a bit strange, folded up on the floor like a child in your business casual clothes, hair long since gathered on top of your head in a clip, your body half hidden by the L-shaped arm of your desk. Fighting back the heat of embarrassment in your cheeks, you rose to your feet and dusted off the knees of your trousers. “What’s up?”

“Wanted to let you know I’ll be heading out in about 10 minutes or so,” he replied, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb.

Brows shooting up to your hairline, you blinked rapidly. “Oh. What time is it?”

“Almost 5:00.”

“Wow.” You looked around, taking in the mostly-clear surface of your desk, the tidy little piles of paperwork all lined up for Joel’s review, the two kitchen-sized white trash bags leaning against the wall stuffed to the brim and tied off hours ago. “I…completely lost track of time.”

Joel chuckled and put his hands on his hips, his eyes following yours as you took in the space. “That a good thing?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“Honestly, yeah,” you said with a bashful, close-lipped smile. “It was nice.”

“Well. Good then. Glad to hear it.”

A beat of silence passed between the two of you, the older man seemingly a bit in awe of the transformation you had managed over the course of a single work day. The close attention had you shifting on your feet, your hands wringing together awkwardly. Drawing your lower lip between your teeth, you asked, “Do you…typically head home at 5:00?”

Your question appeared to bring him back to himself. Tearing his eyes away from your desk, he nodded. “Most of the time, yeah. Sometimes client appointments can run late, depending on how a project’s going. But I wouldn’t expect you to hang back when that happens. I’d say you can plan on being able to get outta here around 5:00 from now on.”

“Okay, good to know. I’ll get wrapped up here then.”

For a moment, he began to retreat, as though headed back toward his office, but mid-step, he paused and snapped his fingers, his eyes widening as he turned back to you. “Oh! Remind me – I need to get a copy of the office key made for you. I’ll head over to the hardware store tomorrow, get that sorted. That way, just in case, you can let yourself in or lock up if you need to.”

“Oh. Sure, will do.”

Your own key. Something in your chest warmed at the thought, at the idea that Joel might trust you with such a thing already. Unable to swallow your smile, you opened the top drawer of your desk and pulled out a notebook and pen that you had unearthed as you cleaned. Flipping to the page where you had already begun jotting down a handful of to-dos, you added “office key copy – Joel” to the list.

When you glanced back up, you found him staring incredulously at the notebook, a funny little grin quirking the right corner of his mouth. A sudden wave of self-consciousness passed through you as you realized exactly which notebook you had chosen – a small, wide-ruled thing with pale pink pages and a neon-bright cover splattered with cartoon animal illustrations in bizarre color combinations. Clearly designed for a child, the garish tones of electric blue, lime green, and vibrant, hot pink had stood out like a sore thumb in the pile of junk covering your desk, though it had been in shockingly good condition. You assumed it must have been Sarah’s at one point, brought with her father’s belongings when they moved the business out of the Millers’ spare bedroom.

“Ha,” you chuckled uneasily, your cheeks and neck heating. “It was the best thing I could find. I, uh. Hope that’s okay.”

Joel, too, seemed a bit thrown, though eventually his grin spread to the rest of his face, crows’ feet deepening and dark eyes shining as he shook his head. “Yeah, darlin’, you’re fine. Just haven’t seen anythin’ from Lisa Frank in a while, took me by surprise.” He raised a hand to run his fingers through his silver-threaded hair. “Tell you what – as you’re making your way through all this, you notice any supplies we’re short on, anything you think might make your life easier, make a list, and we can go through it at the end of the week. See if we can’t get that taken care of for you.”

You met the older man’s gaze then, certain that your surprise, your gratefulness were written all over your wide-eyed expression. You had been an employee of Miller Brothers for less than 24 hours, and already you felt more seen, more supported, more valued than you ever had at your previous company. You forced yourself to draw a deep breath, to rein in the flood of thankfulness that you felt tempted to spew. It was still early, you reminded yourself, and it wasn’t as though they had done anything extravagant for you. You didn’t need to embarrass yourself with any maudlin displays of emotion over something as simple as the offer of some office supplies.

And yet…

Reasonable hours. Good pay. Decent benefits. A calm, quiet environment. A workspace to organize and customize as you saw fit. A flexible, casual dress code. A meal, hot and fresh and delivered directly to your desk as if it were the easiest thing in the world. All of these things, while simple, weren’t nothing. They were the farthest thing from it.

At your previous company, you had been one of thousands. A cog in a machine that they hadn’t even had the decency to look in the eye when they ended your employment. At Miller Brothers, you felt as though you might be…important.

“Okay,” you murmured, matching your boss’s smile. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Joel.”

Credits: Dividers - @saradika-graphics

Taglist: @shchristine @80ssong @half-moon16 @/sunshinehaze1 @kilamonster @peepawispunk @almostfoxglove @orodaeh @rosebuds-and-moonlight @brittmb115 @kedsandtubesocks @yxtkiwiyxt @yorksgirl @pedroswife69 @glitterspark @foxin5billion @bergamote-catsandbooks @guiltyasdave

If you would like to be included in the taglist for this fic, please comment on this chapter or send me a message!

[diazsdimples]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you to everyone who tagged me for Sunday and Tuesday, I've been really struggling with writing lately and it's been extremely disheartening but this morning I had A Singular Bean for Frostpunk AU and milked it for all it's worth! This snippet comes immediately after the Buck and Eddie POVs of being found in the cold. Please enjoy!

He suddenly feels responsible for their wellbeing, and maybe that’s why he refuses to leave the kid’s – Christopher’s – side until the rest of the team arrives, Eli carrying the heavy med kit on his back. “I’ll get the man, Eli check the kid,” Bobby instructs, sinking to his knees beside Buck. “What’s the story with them, Buck?” “I got here just a couple minutes before the guy passed out. Didn’t say his name but his kid is called Christopher. He looked super weak, a-and they’re both freezing.” Bobby and Eli share a look over Buck’s shoulder and Eli gets to work on Christopher, checking his vital signs and most importantly, his temperature. Bobby repeats the same process on the father, while Tommy and Sal rifle through the backpack on the sled, checking for any useful information on where they’d come from. “Found the guy’s papers, Cap,” says Sal, walking towards Bobby with a flimsy leaflet in his hand. “Say’s the guy’s called Edmundo Diaz, from Sector 126. He’s ex-military but his most recent job was in a sawmill, he might be useful.” “We don’t save people based on use, Sal,” Bobby responds, his eyes not leaving Edmundo as he speaks. “He’s damn cold, temp sitting around 90 and his heart rate and respiratory rate are a little more elevated than I’d like. Eli, how’s the kid?” “Looking fairly rough, Bobby, we’re going to have to hustle to get them back in time. His temp is at 91 so he’ll be looking at pretty severe hypothermia if we don’t warm him up soon.” Bobby sucks air through his teeth, clearly thinking hard. “We’re a good 16 hours out from the city, 17 or 18 with these two and their gear. Think they’ve got it in them to make it that long?” Eli makes a face. “I really don’t know, Cap. The kid, maybe, but the guy’s temp is a little too low for my liking. Maybe if we warmed them up a little, they’d have a better chance. Did Maddie say anything about being able get the snowmobile team out here?” Buck perks up at the mention of the snowmobiles. The team was sent out a day before Buck’s team was, off on a search for supplies a few hundred miles away but were always on call in case a rescue was needed. Getting them to help would cut their travel time almost in half, giving Christopher and Edmundo the precious hours needed to save their lives. “I- I could ride one back with the kid, if they didn’t want to spare a man, Bobby?” he asks hopefully. Sal snorts from his position by the sled. Buck’s love for the snowmobiles is no secret and Bobby’s spent many a mission patiently explaining why it wouldn’t be safe or necessary and otherwise spoiling Buck’s fun. However, this situation calls for haste and Buck is nothing if not an – ah – efficient driver. Bobby looks thoughtful, before standing up and brushing the snow off his pants. “I’ll give dispatch a call and see if she can reroute them to us,” he says, continuing quickly as he watches Buck light up, “but I will be driving. You need to look after the kid, okay?” Buck deflates a little, but something in him stirs as he turns to look at the little figure in the snow next to him. He’s so young, probably no older than 7, and Buck’s heart breaks for him. He’s too young to be experiencing the hardships of the Winter, too innocent to have to watch his father weaken as they journey to a safer home. It’s like a small fire has been kindled in the pit of Buck’s belly as he shuffles closer to the boy and snakes an arm under his neck and the other under his legs, pulling his tiny frame up so he’s in Buck’s lap. Buck is going to protect this boy with his life.

No pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @tizniz @watchyourbuck @wikiangela @daffi-990 @thewolvesof1998 @pirrusstuff @cal-daisies-and-briars @kitteneddiediaz @spotsandsocks @jesuisici33 @rainbow-nerdss @wildlife4life @puppyboybuckley @smilingbuckley @disasterbuckdiaz @bucksbackwardcap @fortheloveofbuddie @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @buckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @housewifebuck @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @elvensorceress @babytrapperdiaz @ci5mates @hermscat (let me know if you want to be added or removed from this)

[debtsunpaid]

DEBTSUNPAID: low activity, iconless, selective multi-muse sideblog, ft. canon characters + oc's based in the world of nbc's c.onstantine show & vertigo's h.ellblazer comics. ( + some additional supernatural- & crime-adjacent fandoms. ) all muses & mun are 18+, triggering content & adult themes will be present. everything will be blanket tagged as trigger /. multi-verse, multi-ship, crossover & oc-friendly.

studying themes such as: the sidekick's story, the villain's intentions, the ones left behind; escaping your fate, what was i made for, personal hells, how to hold a grudge, the misguided righteous, the evil by necessity, so you survived: now what?

written by oxly, 27, they/them. follows back from talentforlying but is not directly associated with / does not share canon with interactions on that blog unless plotted beforehand.

GUIDELINES ♙ INTEREST TRACKER ♙ BIOS (tba) ♙ PINTEREST

mobile roster + temp bios under the cut! TESTING: tali (hellblazer), nat (hellblazer 2019), tommy willowtree (hellblazer 2019)

PRIMARIES

THE DEMON CONSTANTINE (hellblazer comics) — pre-#250 canon only. it/he/they, british, former golem/current demon. created from the worst parts of constantine's personality, even more spiteful and annoying than the regular one, and bloodthirsty as hell to boot.

tags. fc: comics + matt ryan. vibe: us, possessor potential triggers: alcoholism, mentions/descriptions of body horror

MANNY THE ANGEL (nbc constantine + heavy hc influence) — he/him, angelic, supposed guardian angel with secret ties to dark magic and the brujeria. manipulative shithead with a love of mind games and genuine, if sinister, interest in humanity. high tolerance/invulnerability to most weapons, painful to punch, reality manipulation & other angelic powers.

tags. fc: harold perrineau. vibe: constantine (2005), dogma potential triggers: critical discussion of religion, familial trauma, manipulation

CLARICE SACKVILLE / THE CUMAEAN SYBIL (hellblazer + dead in america) — she/her, far older than she ought to be, a horribly wronged ancient greek oracle turned socialite, sorceress, and expert in the mystic arts. a snobby opportunist and shrewd strategist who has her pet revenant, gwendolyn, hunt tourists in order to steal their spiritual essence, de-age herself, and further extend her already-much-extended life.

tags. fc: joan collins. / youthful fc: young judi dench. vibe: breakfast at tiffany's, the silmarillion (galadriel), antigone rewritten potential triggers: sexual assault-centric backstory (not described graphically), classism

CHAS CHANDLER (hellblazer comics) — canon-critical. early-50s, he/him, british, taxi driver, closeted bisexual, married but separated, dad. pissy dickhead who likes to pick fights and is secretly in love with his best friend. just a guy.

tags. fc: comics + owain yeoman. vibe: the world's end (andy knightly), peaky blinders potential triggers: past maternal abuse, toxic masculinity, internalized homophobia

CHAS CHANDLER (nbc constantine) — 42, he/him, american, taxi driver, repressed bisexual, divorced dad. 6'6". soft sweater guy and good cook, functionally immortal with 47 extra souls shoved in him like a walking cannoli. limited powers of self-resurrection & speed-healing.

tags. fc: charles halford. vibe: insidious (josh), the world's end (andy knightly) potential triggers: divorce, absent fathers, internalized homophobia

CHERYL MASTERS (hellblazer comics w/ nbc verse) — 56, she/her, british, human or ghost (timeline dependent), housewife and stay-at-home mum who is always about five minutes from divorce. john constantine's big sister, fiercely independent, doting mother figure, and always substituting everyone else's problems for her own.

tags. fc: comics + andrea riseborough. vibe: the haunting of hill house (olivia crain), little shop of horrors (audrey) potential triggers: mention of religious cults, unhappy marriage, backstory references to intimate partner violence ending in uxoricide

KLAVIER LUZ FURCHTBAR / JALLAKUNTILLIOKAN (hellblazer-based oc + hellblazer comics) — over 40 (isn't sure), they/he, spanish-german, ex-astrophysicist, current engine of the fear machine, accidental vessel for the revival of jallakuntilliokan, the animus & fear-domain half of a twin god. a drifting maths tutor who lives their life half-in and half-out of the Dreaming after becoming psychically entangled with the fear god during its banishing, fighting a losing battle to separate their consciousness from its looming eldritch presence before it takes full possession, rips open reality, and assumes its god-form on earth.

tags. / appendicular blog. fc: daniel bruhl. vibe: solaris, the thing (1982), venom, disco elysium (the inner voices), southern reach trilogy: annihilation (the biologist + the crawler) potential triggers: unreality, hallucinations, possession/body manipulation + related body horror, psychological manipulation, backstory references to freezing to death & unwanted experimentation

ANIMA / ONDINE NASIRIAN (both hellblazer-based oc's) — simultaneously 34 and as old as creation, she/they, spanish-iranian, former artist, currently the collaborative consciousness of mortal ondine and atalakuntilliokan, the anima & hope-domain half of a twin god. a wandering wonderer at all that humanity has to offer, searching the earth for her missing half (jallakuntilliokan) in an attempt to return them to the fold and restore the fragmented balance of humanity's collective subconscious before either of them can unravel themselves or the world beyond the point of saving.

tags. / appendicular blog. fc: sarah shahi. vibe: southern reach trilogy: acceptance (ghost bird + the leviathan biologist), venom, bridge to terabithia (jesse + leslie), the skeleton twins, legion (michael) potential triggers: references to suicidal ideation (primarily backstory), possession/body manipulation + related body horror

ELLIE (hellblazer comics) — she/her, british, disgraced succubus, ex-denizen of hell, widow of the angel tali. as treacherous as she is pretty, and still kinder than most. bummed about not being allowed home to hell, but has plenty of fun conning people here on earth.

tags. fc: comics + maggie q. vibe: it follows, hotel artemis (nice) potential triggers: backstory references to pregnancy, traumatic birth, loss of a child, stalking/being stalked, mistreatment of a sex worker

FRANK NORTH (hellblazer comics w/ nbc verse) — 43, he/him, american, former/current biker gang guy depending on whether you meet him alive or as a ghost. laid-back veteran who's just here to have a good time.

tags. fc: comics + michael trucco with a ponytail. vibe: the lost boys, ferris bueller's day off potential triggers: references to the vietnam war (?)

SECONDARIES

BENEDICK OF PADUA ( much ado about nothing ) — 36, any pronouns (introduces themself as he/him), scottish-italian, a lord, loyal soldier, class clown, perennial bachelor, and truly loyal friend who wants nothing more than to party his way through high society for the rest of her life. scoffs at the idea of love, but loves to be loved; enjoys flexing their wit, but hates to be outdone. moonlights as a drag queen named nonny nonny. formerly mustnotbeproud.

tags. fc: david tennant. vibe: romeo + juliet (mercutio) potential triggers: incessant drinking, references to recreational drug use, immaturity

RITCHIE SIMPSON (hellblazer comics) — he/it, british, quantum magic pioneer, techno-demon-slash-very-unhappy-siri-substitute. pissy little gremlin who burns sim cards like cigarettes, will correct you on everything and ruin your search algorithms for fun. electronic manipulation & digital astral travel.

tags. fc: comics + santiago cabrera. vibe: videodrome, the x-files (the lone gunmen) potential triggers: unreality, body-snatching

RITCHIE SIMPSON (nbc constantine) — 43, he/him, american, computer genius, quantum magic pioneer, and occultism professor. the georgia equivalent of a shaking chihuahua but lord if he won't bitch you out given the opportunity.

tags tba fc: jeremy davies. vibe: the x-files (the lone gunmen), mission impossible (benji dunn) potential triggers: n/a

JACK VINCENNES (adapted from la confidential + vertigo-based oc) — 48, he/him, american, closeted vice detective and professional tabloid informant. a disillusioned glory hound seeking redemption, a purpose in life, and dirt on one john constantine.

tags tba fc: simon baker. vibe: la confidential, se7en potential triggers: cop/ex-cop (verse dependent)

REVEREND RICK "THE VIC" NILSEN (hellblazer comics) — 46, he/him, british, un-priestly priest with the church of england, collector & dealer of occult paraphernalia. sardonic, sacrilegious, with a shitty little mustache and a happy poly relationship with his girlfriend and his best friend.

tags tba fc: comics + con o'neill. vibe: monty python & the holy grail, the devil all the time potential triggers: religious themes, disrespect for religion

FIONA NANTES (vertigo-based oc) — 200+, she/her, irish, ancestrally cursed to live out the lives of everyone her family has ever killed. serial killer trying to buy her and her son more time while she searches for how to break the curse by any means necessary.

tags. fc: carla gugino. vibe: doctor sleep (rose the hat) potential triggers: murder, generational trauma, references to filicide

DAMIEN WHITE A.K.A "THE PROFESSOR" (hellblazer comics + oc) — 58, he/him, british, former archaeologist and professor of anthropology bouncing between johannesburg and the british museum. paranoid occult specialist who took one look at constantine and noped out of the country.

tags tba fc: jeffrey wright. vibe: it (adult mike), the mummy (1999, dr. chamberlain) potential triggers: the british museum

EMMA KNIGHT (vertigo-based oc) — 34, she/her, scouse, divorced, formerly-possessed seamstress with lingering psychic abilities and, recently, fashion designer to hell. vain, proud, deep-in-denial wannabe-girlboss blaming everyone else in the world for her problems.

tags. fc: jodie comer. vibe: black swan, censor potential triggers: possession, past-body horror, parental abandonment

TESTING

TALI (hellblazer comics + canon divergent) — he/him, fallen angel, a former guardian at the gate destroyed for falling in love with the demon chantinelle, and later resurrected by the first of the fallen to punish her. running a halfway house for supernatural strays out of the back of a laundromat while he tries to locate his wife & child and recover the powers he still retains.

tags tba. fc: manish dayal. vibe: legion 2010 (michael), potential triggers: familial trauma, critical discussions of religion, loss of a child

NAT (2019 hellblazer comics) — testing. 27, she/her, glaswegian scottish, bouncer/former bouncer (verse dependent) at the long lugs artisanal microbrewery while doing her literature degree. hot temper and a mean golf swing, and just fucking fine until constantine showed up.

tags. fc: comics + evan rachel wood. vibe: the green room, the magnus archives (melanie king) potential triggers: N/A

TOMMY WILLOWTREE (2019 hellblazer comics) — testing. 32, he/him, southern english, hipster wizard, pun magician, and guardian of the merlintrove for the last 5 years (so he thinks, anyway). an idealist with more enthusiasm than sense, who lives above and works at the grokk & roll occult bookstore + cafe with his partners.

tags. fc: comics + matt biedel. vibe: legends of tomorrow (ray palmer) potential triggers: N/A

[nbselfshipping]

F/o list

Note: all of my romanic self ship art is tagged as Kestrel X (charcter name) in case you want to search for, or block a specific ship.

Romantic

GLaDoS ( Portal)

Chell ( Portal)

Wheatley ( Portal)

Virgil ( Portal stories Mel)

Cilla ( Portal: the office prank)

Gordon Freeman ( Half life)

Barney Calhoun (Half life)

Adrian Shephard (Half life)

Alyx Vance (Half life)

Pyro ( team fortress 2)

Engineer ( team fortress 2)

Demoman ( team fortress 2)

Heavy weapons guy ( team fortress 2)

Medic ( team fortress 2)

Sniper ( team fortress 2)

Alice Angel ( Bendy and the ink machine)

Sammy Lawrence ( Bendy and the ink machine)

Wally Franks ( Bendy and the ink machine)

Glamrock Freddy (FNAF)

Glamrock Chica (FNAF)

Glamrock Bonnie (FNAF)

Roxanne Wolf (FNAF)

Monty Gator (FNAF)

Sundrop/Moondrop/Eclipse (FNAF)

Funtime Freddy (FNAF)

Funtime Foxy (FNAF)

Lolbit (FNAF)

Michael Afton (FNAF)

Vanessa/Vanny (FNAF)

Stanley ( the stanley parable)

The Narrator ( the stanley parable)

Samantha ( the stanley parable/oc)

Baldi Baldimore ( Baldi’s basics)

Principal of the thing (Baldi’s basics)

Gotta sweep (Baldi’s basics)

Null (Baldi’s basics)

Dr Reflex (Baldi’s basics)

Alex ( Alex basics in Biology and zoology)

Viktor Strobovski ( Advanced education with Viktor Strobovski)

Tiara ( Advanced education with Viktor Strobovski)

Dave (Dave’s fun algebra class)

Sugar ( OFF)

The Batter (OFF)

Zacharie (OFF)

Dedan (OFF)

Tommy Coolata (HLVRAI)

Benrey (HLVRAI)

Darnold (HLVRAI)

Banban/Uthman ( Garten of Banban)

Banbalena/Mason ( Garten of Banban)

Bittergiggle ( Garten of Banban)

Magic Brian ( The Adventure zone)

Spamton ( Deltarune)

Jevil ( Deltarune)

Rouxls karrd ( Deltarune)

Swatch ( Deltarune)

Mettaton ( Undertale)

Alphys (Undertale)

Colin the computer (DHMIS)

Red guy ( DHMIS)

Itward ( Fran Bow)

Wes ( Don’t Starve)

Wilson P Higgsbury ( Don’t Starve)

Willow ( Don’t Starve)

WX-78 ( Don’t Starve)

Warly ( Don’t Starve)

Oswald ( Disney/ Epic Mickey)

Ortensia ( Disney/ Epic Mickey)

Kinito ( Kinitopet)

Dr Boris Habit ( Smile for me)

Kamal Bora ( smile for me)

N ( Pokemon)

Bill ( Pokemon)

Lance ( Pokemon)

Ingo ( Pokemon)

Emmet ( Pokemon)

Leon ( Pokemon)

Jesse ( Pokemon)

James ( Pokemon)

The Wax bellman ( Little Nightmares)

Rodger ( Little Nightmares)

Twin Chef 1 ( Little Nightmares)

Twin Chef 2 ( Little Nightmares)

The Hunter ( Little Nightmares)

Yes man ( Fallout)

Victor ( Fallout)

Nick Valentine ( Fallout)

Piper Wright ( Fallout)

Preston Garvey (Fallout)

Codsworth ( Fallout)

Henry Stickmin ( Henry Stickmin collection)

Charles Calvin ( Henry Stickmin collection)

Ellie Rose ( Henry Stickmin collection)

Job bot ( Job simulator)

Temp bot (Job simulator)

Vacation bot ( Vacation simulator)

King Dice ( Cuphead)

Chef Saltbaker  ( Cuphead)

Hilda Berg ( Cuphead)

Cagney Carnation ( Cuphead)

Beppi the clown ( Cuphead)

Blind specter ( Cuphead)

Spinel ( Steven Universe)

King Candy/Turbo ( Wreck it Ralph)

Wreck it Ralph ( Wreck it Ralph)

Fix it Felix jr. ( Wreck it Ralph)

Tamora Calhoun ( Wreck it Ralph)

V1 ( Ultrakill)

V2 (Ultrakill)

Gabriel ( Ultrakill)

Ellis ( Left4dead)

Zoey ( Left4dead)

Familial

 Gregory (FNAF) (son)

Helpy (FNAF) (son)

Ballora ( FNAF) (found family)

Playtime ( Baldi’s Basics) (daughter)

Tristan ( Dave’s fun algebra class) (son)

Fran Bow ( Fran Bow ) ( daughter)

Walter (Don’t Starve) ( Son)

Webber (Don’t Starve) ( Son)

Bunny kids ( Disney/Epic Mickey) ( Children)

Six ( Little Nightmares) ( Daughter)

Mono ( Little Nightmares) (son)

Runaway kid ( Little Nightmares) (son)

Raincoat girl ( Little Nightmares) ( Daughter)

Ash Ketchem ( Pokemon) ( found family)

Deliah Ketchem ( Pokemon) ( found family)

Steak ( DHMIS) ( found family) 

Fridge ( DHMIS) ( found family) 

Spinach ( DHMIS) ( found family) 

Bread boy ( DHMIS) ( found family) 

Platonic

Mel ( Portal Stories Mel)

Rainbow core ( Portal Stories Mel)

Space Core (Portal)

Jack Fain ( BATIM)

Allison ( BATIM)

Mariella ( The Stanley Parable)

Curator ( The Stanley Parable)

Mrs Pomp ( Baldi’s Basics)

 Vader Eloha ( OFF)

Japhet ( OFF)

Enoch ( OFF)

Undyne ( Undertale)

Papyrus ( Undertale)

Sans ( Undertale)

Mad Mewmew ( Undertale)

Palontras ( Fran Bow)

Sam ( Kinitopet)

Jade( Kinitopet)

Efficiency bot ( Vacation Simulator)

[listcners-archived]

“You deserved better.” {Puffy to Tommy}

The blonds head snapped up, bit of a wide eyes stare given to Puffy as he sat there. "I-" he was at a loss for words, when usually he was so loud. His time in the smp had changed him, but especially the last few months... exile.. Doomsday.. his fight with Dream and... His death. It had changed him to an almost different person. His loud, confident personality had become a mask to a kid much softer. Much more fearful.

"Did I though?"

[hopeforged]

&  tomás luna.    —     01     /    ??       mutuals   can   reblog.

[cyclends-a]

LOOK AT ELLIE’S LITTLE WINTER OUTFIT FUCK / @tiesforged​

[ogmcyt]

Someone I followed mentioned the egg being a metaphor for internalized homophobia and it was funny for a sec but why am I starting to believe it now.......

[cowgurrrl]

Can we get more LFTL dad Joel content? I love this series and you’re such a great writer!

Thank you for your sweet words!! I love some LFTL dad!joel content!! This ended up being more family fluff but it still works!

Love's Gonna Live Here

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: The story of the Museum Day [1.1k]

Warnings: a little bit of grief but mostly fluff

Ever since Joel took Ellie to the museum for her birthday, she's wanted to go back every year. It's a relatively easy journey, and it's gotten easier as you pass through more and more times. At first, it was just you, Ellie, and Joel. Then it was you three, Tommy, Maria, and Camille. Then it was the six of you plus Charlie. Then Dina, Jesse, and JJ started tagging along too. Soon enough, you had a pretty big group going to the museum regularly. Dina and Maria even conspired to set up field trips through the elementary school. Joel was hesitant initially, but once word got out, keeping it under wraps was impossible. Before the first field trip, you and your little family went out to clean things up. Tear down old boards, sweep away leaves and dust, and even organize whatever dinosaur pamphlets were left.

After that first time, it became an annual event. Joel would lead the way, knowing the forest like the back of his hand, and Ellie, after saying she could never be a teacher, would go on tangents about space exploration and evolution to the next generation of students. The museum got a little cleaner every year, and things got a little more normal. You never ran into Infected or Raiders, and if you did, you had the mayor of Jackson and the Millers to keep you safe. It's a win for everyone. Ellie gets to share her knowledge and excitement, you and Joel get to get out of Jackson, and Charlie gets to learn new things. You also like to think the scientists and astronauts who did all that work are happy to know people are still learning about them even after the apocalypse.

This year is the first year Charlie's class gets to go on the field trip. She's ecstatic, telling everyone that her mommy, daddy, and Bellie will take them "to the stars," as Ellie told Charlie years ago. Dina, Jesse, and JJ come along too. JJ is finally growing out of the chubby toddler stage and more into an actual kid. It's scary to see how much he looks like Jesse but acts like Ellie, but you love watching him and Charlie interact.

As you walk to the museum, Joel takes turns carrying Charlie and JJ on his shoulders, pointing out different types of plants, and telling the kids how to look out for poison ivy. He tells them stories of what life was like before. He talks about cities like New York and Chicago and explains how cars work. At one point, you swear you can pinpoint the dreaminess in his voice as he talks about coffee. He talks about Sarah, too. He tells the kids about how she would scamper up big rocks and give him shit for wanting to go on hikes and things like that. She would be in her forties if she were alive today. Jane would be in her thirties. Still, you both imagine them as the fourteen and ten-year-olds they'll always be. You have nothing else to go on.

When you get to the museum, Ellie holds JJ and Charlie's hands as they walk through the exhibits. Ellie goes on and on about what year we went to space, what animal was the first to be in orbit, and the order of the planets. You and Joel hang back, letting the parents and kids follow Ellie. This is your favorite part: watching Ellie be herself. She cracks jokes, answers questions, and doesn't hesitate to get down on their level if needed. She's a natural. Dina watches Ellie, too, adoration and love so clearly shining in her eyes. You wonder if that's how Joel looks at you when you're not looking.

"What're you thinkin' bout?" Joel asks, bumping you with his shoulder, and you shrug.

"Thinking bout our girls."

"Which ones?"

"All of 'em." You say, and he smiles. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, kissing your temple. You follow Ellie's lead through the museum and watch Charlie get excited as she listens to her big sister. As she makes it up to the dinosaur skeletons, Ellie looks at Joel knowingly and pulls a familiar brown hat out of her bag. You laugh as she throws it and perfectly lands it on the dinosaur's head. All the kids roar with laughter, but Ellie is looking at Joel.

"He's wearing a little hat!" Charlie exclaims, and Ellie smiles.

"Yeah, he is," Ellie says. Joel sniffles next to you, and you rub his back as he tries not to cry. All the kids get a turn in the spaceship, flicking the different buttons and pretending to blast off. You remember when Ellie did that for the first time. She was so little. Now, she's holding a kid on her hip and Dina's hand. She's a grown woman.

As the day wears on, Maria and Tommy start taking people back to town, but you, Joel, Ellie, and Charlie stay. You sit in the middle of the museum, watching the clouds pass through the skylight. Charlie sits in Ellie's lap, and Joel has an arm around her shoulder. You wish you had a camera to take a picture of how peaceful they look. Instead, you commit the image to memory and sit with them.

"I had fun with you today, Bellie," Charlie says, looking up at Ellie, and Ellie raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah?" She asks, and Charlie nods. "I had fun with you, too, kiddo."

"How old were you when you came here for the first time?" Charlie asks, and Ellie meets Joel's eyes over her head.

"Sixteen. Mom and Dad brought me here before you were born."

"That was a long time ago," Charlie says candidly, and Ellie laughs.

"Yeah, it was," Ellie agrees, kissing the top of Charlie's head. "You know, Dad pushed me in the river while we were on our way here the first time."

"Really?" Charlie asks with big eyes, looking between her and Joel, and you smile. Ellie nods with big, animated eyes.

"And you know what?"

"What?"

"I couldn't even swim."

"Daddy!" Charlie scolds Joel. "Bellie could've drowned!"

"You're right, Charlie Girl. I could've drowned."

"You weren't gonna drown!" Joel defends himself, and Ellie hums. "I was helpin' you build your confidence in the water."

"Mommy!" Charlie turns her attention to you. "Why didn't you stop Daddy from pushing Ellie?"

"Mommy was pregnant and shouldn't have even been on that trip!"

"That's true. You probably shouldn't have." Ellie says, and you laugh. The four of you settle against each other, sleepily watching the clouds move and the sky turn orange. The girls are tucked under one of Joel's arms, and you're tucked under the other, a heap of love and warmth. At one point, Joel kisses Ellie's temple and squeezes her shoulders. Then, so quiet you almost miss it, he says, "You did great today, kiddo." Ellie looks up at him, Charlie resting against her chest, and smiles sleepily.

"Thanks, Dad."

[lovesaved]

it didnt change anything. it didnt save anyone. there were just too many forces against it. but it still matters that the love was there

LOVESAVED - a private, very selective, and low activity study in love or the lack of it, being too stubborn to die, grief and it's many shapes, light as a seed and the darkness the dirt, and the love behind a haunting. multimuse. neglect and a slew of other triggers are present - please follow at your own risk. completely switched to beta editor. iconless for the time being! loved by ALEX ( 21+, she / they, pst )

please read: carrd, dni list

MUSE LIST & TEMP RULES UNDER THE CUT

CURRENT MUSES

ocs: olivia soto* g.rishaverse: harshaw quinn, fedyor kaminsky comics: peter quill, jason todd twilight: bella swan the d.arkest minds: mason marks*, liam stewart*, vida bautista*, jude steele* the magnus archives: jude perry, julia montauk, trevor herbert, emma harvey stranger things: 010/eddie munson, wayne munson film: edward scissorhands, tommy slater (fear street)

* - means muse is a minor as their default verse

RULES

some of my muses are minors so i have a very low tolerance for Weird Shit. I WILL use the block button freely.

be patient? i am an adult with depression, autism, and a full time job. this is my second blog, so sometimes i just won't be around much. i have a tendency to forget things, so if your ask never goes answered, i promise you have done nothing wrong; its down to me and my swiss cheese brain

i take my dni list pretty seriously and i will either hardblock or softblock solo blogs for the listed fandoms and characters without warning.

don't be a fucking freak. you know the vibes. racists, homophobes, transphobes, antisemites, islamaphobes, trump supporters, etc can roll over eat shit and die <3 I am not the least bit friendly to people who rp incest, rape/"""noncon""", and pedophilia. you don't deserve rights or kneecaps and better block my ass

for my comfort this blog is mutuals only and I ask that you softblock or hardblock me if you would like to break mutuals. no hard feelings or anything, I just would rather avoid confusion in the future! 💙

my name is alex (she/they) and I promise I'm a lot friendlier and not as intimidating as these rules probably make me seem! i am 21+, a white nb lesbian, and work as a caregiver in california. i do a lot of art and make jewelry on the side and my dream is to have my own tiny house and that is coming along slowly. i have another blog over @pyreshe

please tag things like suicide and rape

[belphegor1982]

ao3 wrapped: 6, 16, 17

Merci :D

Okay, this is going to be a bit weird, because I only completed and/or posted 4 fics this year (Like a Bad Idea at the Time, Échappé, In the Light of Tea and Sake and technically the drabble Ghosts - the rest are old stories I cross-posted and/or archived) so you know what? I think I’m not gonna restrain myself to just 2022 for questions where it’s not explicitly “2022 only”.

6. Favourite title you used

Échappé, I think, because while Pirouette/Pas de Deux/Valse (à trois temps) are fairly common dances/dance steps, I had to do further research for this one before I found something that fitted (“a movement performed in ballet involving a leap from both feet simultaneously”). Like a leap of faith! But also a pun, because it’s all about a one-afternoon escape from society and its constraints. So yeah, I like it ^^

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

“Emotional Hurt/Comfort”, apparently, followed equally by “Getting to Know Each Other”, “Found Family”, and “Friendship”.

17. Your favourite character to write this year?

Oh, this is hard. My three idiots, probably (Jonathan, Tommy and Elizabeth, in no particular order), but I have to say that I really really loved writing In the Light of Tea and Sake and going into Amanda LaRusso’s mind. Not only I could hear her voice in my head, she’s a really interesting character to delve into and point of view to explore other characters with, and I just had a blast with this story 💜

Thank you!

[thesmokingguns]

Let Them Eat Cake

Let them Eat Cake

Word Count:1506

Requested by: @thenobodies-inc​

A/N:: This is a request for a rewrite of Tous Les Jours with a POC character. I tried to be more inclusive this time around and I’m hoping going forward to be able to include more diversity in my writing. Thank you

Tag List: @Thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all

It’s not letting me tag the following people. Please check your settings on Tumblr, thank you!

@agroupiewhore , @ayablackwood

Nikki walked into the venue, heading straight for the bar. He had invited a few of the guys to come out to see Y/N perform tonight at the club.

Despite having been together for the last eight months they didn’t really go into her music career. She never wanted him to feel like she was dating him so he could help her group get started. So he would just deal with her vanishing for a few hours each week to work on her content, waiting for her to feel comfortable enough to share with him the music she was making.

A few days ago she had told him that they would be performing and asked if he wanted to come see her group's first show. Which led to him inviting some of his friends to come along with him so he wouldn’t be alone.

Looking around the venue there were a good amount of people for a first performance for her band and even though they hadn’t got on stage yet he was already feeling proud of her accomplishment. He never got tired of seeing how she worked for her passions and made her dreams happen.

A hand clapped his back making Nikki turn as he saw Tommy, Vince and Mick all slide up besides him. They all made small talk about their own stuff.

“So what type of music are they playing tonight?” Tommy asked, chewing on his straw. That wasn’t something that he knew. Y/N often had an acoustic guitar and would be singing softly so it could be folk but she loved punk bands and had almost gotten him killed on several occasions dragging him into a pit.

Thankfully he was saved by the lights flashing before going all black. When the lights can back on a spotlight shown on a tall girl dressed in a short almost Marie Antoinette costume, braided hair in a big updo with golden feathers tucked into the updo. She was holding a masquerade mask up to cover her face. Another light flashed to show a girl in the same costume with brown hair pulled into the style pulled up. Finally the center spotlight came up and Nikki saw his girlfriend.

Her brown skin shown under the stage lights. She had ona. Purple and gold brocade costume like her friends, thigh high stockings showing off the long legs of her 5’6 frame. Both her hands were holding the fan only showing her almond shaped brown eyes looking at the crowd. Everyone was looking at the three females on stage, waiting to see what they were planning.

All of a sudden heavy metal started playing. Nikki watched her snap the fan shut and the girls all started dancing, their costumes with tutus bouncing underneath as they danced to the music. Her voice came out clear as she started singing to the music and his mouth must have fallen open.

Nikki had a blind sense of confidence in Y/N, thinking that she could do anything that she wanted. Seeing her now coming alive on stage with her voice seeming to be like a mermaid sirens song transfixing the audience he knew that she really could do anything.

It was about three songs in, the fast paced temp mixed with the dancing that he started to realize just how heavy the music was. When the song ended the two girls in yellow froze, putting their masks back up well he watched Y/N raise her fan so just those dark almond shaped eyes were gazing out at the crowd. Everything was so controlled and the way they seemed to have the audience eating out of their hands so soon into a set was amazing.

“Thank you to everyone for coming out to our first show. We’re Let Them Eat Cake and we hope you’re enjoying the show.” she stopped when the audience cheered loudly for them. Nikki looked over to say something to his band members but they were all whistling and hooting along with the rest of the crowd. “For the next song I need to hear you all go be as loud as you can. Can you do that for me, please?” When she said please and those eyes skimmed the crowd Nikki knew that everyone was hooked to her.

With a single nod of her head the music started again. The girls all jumped, dancing in a perfect synchronization. Y/N stepped forward her vocals cutting through the room and making Nikki’s eyes widen.

“Holy Shit.” she sounded better live than most people sounded after all the tuning of a recorded album. He felt arms on him as Tommy shook him, mouth hanging open in absolute shock at the vocals on his girl.

As the show ended three guillotines were wheeled on stage. One by one they all had their heads in each machine, a spotlight on each girl. The lights went out one by one with the sound of a blade falling and the front lights came on to show blood spraying over the audience. Every detail of the show had been planned out to make people never forget what they had seen. It was an experience as much as a concert.

“Where the hell has she been hiding that voice?” Vince asked as they ordered another round. Nikki was speechless, not knowing what to say to him.

“Fuck her voice, the costumes, the blood. That was incredible.” Mick, who was usually a grumpy asshole, was thinking about how she had managed to capture attention and create something people would talk about and want to bring other people to see again.

“She went hard. All those sexy cute costumes with the dancing. That music was heavier than some of the stuff we do.” Tommy was bouncing; he was so excited. “The drummer was like.” he mimicked the beat on the bar not seeming to care that he was being an annoying asshole.

“I Should go backstage-” Nikki was cut off by all three of his bandmates all talking over each other about how they wanted to go too and soon the whole band was making their way backstage.

Y/N looked up, smiling when she saw all the guys bounding towards her. She had showered off the fake blood and her dark hair was handing in a wet braid over her shoulder. Nikki bent down kissing her lips, smiling as their hands entwined.

“Hey honey,” she purred out, taking a sip of the tea she had been holding. “Thanks so much for coming to see the show.” she hadn't asked him what he had thought but the way her eyes gleamed up to him he knew he should give her feedback.

“The blood with the lights. Brillant.” Mick butted in.

“Can I meet your drummer and your backup singers, both of them?” Tommy said with a smile as he tried to push Nikki aside.

“We need an opening band.” Vince blurted out. Y/N looked up at him, her kind smile dancing across her lips.

“I won’t tour as the opening act for my boyfriend's band. I think-”

“Nikki, you’re fired.” Mick said, making Y/N chuckle. It was nice that everyone was so into her music. It felt good to have them recognize how hard she had been working on this passion project and react so well to it.

“Why don’t we go grab dinner before they decide to make you the bass player.” Nikki slung his arm around her shoulder leading her away from the guys.

It felt good for it to be just the two of them now. A foggy cooler night in LA after a few days of unnaturally bad rain storms left the city feeling eerie. This worked out well for the couple because they could easily make their way down the strip without bumping into people they knew.

“You know, that was one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. You controlled the audience with just a look. They were eating out of your hand. And your vocals, Jesus.” he shook his head watching the way she was blushing at his compliments. “You know, Vince is right, we do need a band to open up for us on tour.” he stopped seeing her roll her eyes at his offer.

“I just want to have fun, Nikki. I want to make the music I want to make and not have to worry about playing for other people's crowds. If we only play shows on The Strip in front of people who come just to see us that’s fine with me.” he respected what she said, “Plus, there’s only room for one huge rockstar in this relationship and you already filled that spot.” It felt good to have seen Y/N perform live but Nikki respected that all dreams came in different sizes and what they both wanted from their music wasn’t the same. But he also knew if she ever changed her mind they’d sell out stadiums in minutes.

[listcners-archived]

Hey Tommy, who would you say that you trust the most?

"I mean, my brother, of course." He said with a shrug. "Punz has always been there for me. There was times where.. well he wasnt around as much. But he came to help me when I was struggling. He's always helped me out.