#thanks for the tag miss mayhem!

[the-blind-assassin-12]

20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by the lovely @maggiemayhemnj - thank you!!

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

Ten. I was cross-posting everything for a minute there, but I lost steam and now I only post here - except for Aphelion, which I am co-writing with @something-tofightfor. That still gets posted in both places.

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

68,449 - not counting Aphelion. My tumblr word count is... a lot higher.

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Right now just Pedro Pascal characters.

4. top five fics by kudos?

Gonna go by notes on tumblr instead because that's where most of my stuff is:

Bes'laar Din Djarin x F!Reader (based on artwork by @stealyourblorbos!)

Survivor Blues Joel Miller x F!Reader

Forever Din Djarin x F!Reader

The Cold Offends Me Oberyn Martell x F!Reader (The Viper & The Wild Thing universe)

Point of No Return Ezra x OFC Clara

5. do you respond to comments?

I try to respond to all comments because I appreciate them SO MUCH MORE than I can accurately convey. I love hearing from people about what they liked or what shocked them or what made them feel things, and I really love the chance to sort of have a micro mini chat about it in the comments. That being said, sometimes I completely check out and miss a whole batch or a whole fic worth of comments goes unresponded to for far too long. And I always feel bad when that happens, which sometimes results in me responding to things WAY after the comments were left, to the point where it wouldn't surprise me if the person has already forgotten the fic/what they wrote... but I haven't forgotten how much it meant to me that they read and commented on my work. So even if it's 6 months to an eternity late, I intend to respond to them all.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

It Pours From Your Eyes Joel x Tess

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I feel like most of them have happy endings, but we'll go with A Little Christmas Magic - Frankie x F!Reader as perhaps the fluffiest happy ending.

8. do you get hate on fics?

I have gotten non-fic specific hate directed at my writing before, but that was a few years ago and it hasn't happened since. Which is cool because the fewer people wasting their time and energy on being unnecessarily mean about things - let alone about stories about silly little fictional guys - the better.

9. do you write smut?

I do, but I do not consider it one of my strong suits, and I typically only include it if it fits with the overall story though a few times I have written smut just to be filthy as a challenge... and as a treat.

10. craziest crossover?

I've been slowly spinning a True Detective x Tim Rockford crossover like a rotisserie chicken for months but I've only managed to jot down a few unconnected snippets thus far. And a title. It's gonna be called (maybe, if I ever actually write it) Flat Circle, Twisted Game.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, but if I did I would be absolutely PISSED. And I can't say I'd be nice about it.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but that would be cool AF.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! I am currently co-writing Aphelion with @something-tofightfor and it is so much FUN.

14. all time favorite ship?

In all honesty it's probably Leslie Knope and Ben Wyatt. I was straight up ready to stop watching Parks and Rec if they didn't end up together.

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

lol what kind of passive aggressive, self-doubt feeding question is this? I'd like to finish them all and I try like hell to believe that I will.

16. what are your writing strengths?

I think it's probably describing natural settings? But maybe dialogue. Idk.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Smut. Also keeping the momentum to finish things in a timely fashion, but mostly smut.

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I try to only use it when it makes sense or when it benefits the story and not just as like... a novelty or an afterthought.

19. first fandom you wrote in?

Teeeeeeeeeeechnically? Like first one I ever made content for? I guess that would be the Twilight series. But I will not be sharing where to find that here. And if you find out where it is, you take that knowledge to the grave with you, you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME, FRIENDS?

20. favorite fic you've written?

Even though it's nowhere near done, I love and am so very proud of Survivor Blues. But then again, even though it's a few years old now and I feel like my writing has grown since finishing it, Point of No Return will always have a very big piece of my heart.

Tagging: anyone who sees this and wants to play! Please tag me so I can see your answers!!

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 18

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n thanks again for 1k followers! also, taglists are sort of working again, if you're someone that only comes here when you get a tag, you've probably missed a few chapters

previous | masterlist | next

---

The airport is a crush of bodies and phones and flashing cameras, staring you down as you follow Seungmin's back through the glass doors and try not to stutter under the weight of so many eyes on you at once.

It happens fast and yet also so very, very slow, every second dripping past so discernibly that you swear you can feel time moving around you. Every breath hitches in your lungs as you walk, every blink of your eyes blinded by the halogen lights overhead or the lense of another camera, searching for the face a manager has tried to hide for you under cap and hood and mask. The clothing is hot and stifling, the collar of your shirt suffocating where it is tucked into the black hoodie, the ends of your hair scratching at the back of your neck, but you're too scared to pull it down or to even look up, your eyes fixed on Seungmin's heels and the tails of the loose shirt he's pulled on just for this walk through the line of fire.

You'd looked for Chan when you'd gotten out of the car, gravitating naturally towards the leader (the one that had defended you online, the one that could look you in the eyes and tell you the truth and went out of his way to prove it the moment he had an opportunity), but he'd fallen back and you'd been steered towards the centre of the group, sticking to Seungmin's side instead. Seungmin was dependable too, like Changbin; unafraid of the crowds that pushed and pulled at each other and tried to lean in close as security shove their way through, and fiercely loyal when the situation called for it.

Seungmin doesn't look back though. He doesn't have time, when the hands to either side are reaching for him just as much as they do to shove you, when hired bodies keep nearly separating you as they move in circles around you, carrying out their job. You're not sure how you could feel so small and alone in such a large crowd of people, seen by so many eyes, but for a moment you do, and then-

An arm lands across the back of your neck, a hand resting casually over your shoulder, pulling you into someone's side. Felix, recogniseable by the soft blue jumper he's wearing and the blonde hair that pokes out from underneath his beanie. You have a feeling he's not supposed to do it, from the wicked gleam in his eye when he glances at you and the way that he marches onward, feet placed deliberately beside yours as if to challenge anyone to tear him away, but you can't find it in yourself to make an excuse and pull back, to walk on your own two feet. 

You were scared, after all; you are scared, even with the reassurance of the weight of his arm around your shoulders and the angle of his body blocking some of the cameras that angle and click and glare at you like if they stare hard enough, you might freely divulge your secrets. You've never seen a crowd like this before, so close and so...mob-like, uncontrolled and ready to roll over each other if it means getting their two seconds of fame, their photo that's unlike any other.

"I get scared too sometimes," Felix says, close enough to your ear that you can hear him over the mayhem. "Just keep walking. The faster we get there, the quicker it'll be over."

"Thanks, Felix," you say in return, but you don't think he can hear you over the crowd. 

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002

@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

@splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

[slythereen]

Hello there!

I’m new to f1 and Lestappen.

Is there a Charles and Max master post somewhere with their history? I keep hearing about the social media unfollowing and podium walk off and want all the tea and timelines.

Basically all I know about is the inchident.

Many thanks!

hello and welcome!! my scholarship (read: obsessively reblogging things or bookmarking them thinking i'll actually find them again later) tends to be VERY chaotic, but i know there are definitely compilations out there. i've read some great ones.

nini (@scuderiafemboy) has a LOT of lore content on tumblr and twitter & does a lot of translating of dutch interviews/manages to unearth old interviews all the time. the twitter thread of threads covers 2018 through june 2023! she also compiled some of the database on tumblr here.

@chibrary archives interviews, articles, etc., in glorious fashion. this is charles centric but naturally charles' history intersects with max's so there are some good pieces in there, like this 2015 article on the lestappen rivalry in karting. the #driver:max tag provides a lot of golden content (such as extended lore on the inchident!).

moments™

marginally related, but dani (lecstappens on twitter) once posted the video of max and charles being scolded and warned to behave themselves during the race following the inchident. one of my favorite pieces of lestappen info frankly... demon children. (also on posted by @il-predestinato on tumblr here. who, btw, is a gold mine of lestappen content.)

well, as long as i'm adding some favorite gems while i try to find the specific post i'm looking for... the lestappen singapore flag moment is my roman empire. i am also haunted by the awkward weather convo video. which i know is out there, but i am going crazy trying to find it.

i decided to just commit to the moments list, so here is charles drinking red bull gate 2023 (courtesy of @countingstars-17)

charles asking the tifosi to stop booing max at monza this year (@il-predestinato seriously has so much content)

this excerpt of max's manager talking about charles (@blueballsracing)

if i don't stop myself i will be here all year

more mini compilations !!

@hyacinthsdiamonds once produced a nice list of the ridiculous lore around lestappen that sounds made up

some 2021 specific "best moments" compiled by @coconutshygame

there is one post i am thinking of that touched on their wild lore/destined f1 rivalry etc. but i can't find it now so stay tuned 🫡

also, for some theorizing on the most recent lestappen debacles and what it all means with ferrari/rbr and a potential charles to rbr (ot charles to more power at ferrari) move:

@tsarinablogs is a Scholar™ with lovely essays

@valyrfia has an addition to the marketing mayhem

i recently compiled my unhinged #rbr-ferrari sticker war content to advocate for rbr charles here, which was added to by this anon with banger points

personally i use #rbr charles for the theorizing and delulu hours, but i think #lestappen rbr and #lestappen gate 2023 are also prime hunting ground for rbr specific lore

anyone who has info to share pls do ❤️ i know i'm missing loads of scholarship that is lost in the pits of my unorganized blog

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Morning, Mon

I'm thinking about after Hotch was in the bombing in Mayhem and lost some of his hearing, with reader who would be careful to always be on the side of his 'good' ear, or always really enunciate their words and try to speak with their mouth clearly in front of him since he has to rely on lipreading a bit more these days. Plus! they would totally show Jack to do the same since he loves to babble happily to his dad, but he sometimes misses what's being said. Being hotch though he's always too embarrassed to admit when he needs help or can't hear.

Have a blessed day, Beautiful

A Helping Hand

Warnings: Hearing loss, brief mention of the bombing, Hotch being too proud to ask for help (but eventually does), fluff.

Word count: 806

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader

A/n: Oh yes yes!! This is one of the more recent ones I've seen when rewatching some of CM. It might be less of a fic?? Idk. BUT I'm posting it as one anyway 😌. Sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted </3. I hope it's still enjoyable though :) This one was also not proofread so I apologise if there are any mistakes.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssamorganhotchner (let me know if you want to be added🫶)

After the bombing and Aaron losing some of his hearing in one ear you've tried to be considerate of his new situation and how he lives now. You know he doesn't always catch everything that's being said to or around him but you also know he hates asking for people to speak louder and more clearly because of his hearing.

You've taken it upon yourself to do whatever you can to help him. And if everyone thought you liked being around him before, they should see you now. You're by his side almost constantly when you're on cases. It started when you noticed Aaron furrowing his brows even more and trying to lean in and turn his head so he could hear the officer more clearly, whether he realised he was doing it or not. When he still looked puzzled as to what was said you had walked over to him and made sure you repeated the officer's words into Hotch's good ear. He thanked you, though he did seem a bit embarrassed that you'd had to do that for him.

Hotch needs some extra care and consideration right now and though you know he hates needing extra help, or any help for that matter, he does need it. And you're happy to help him however you can. You're stuck to his side often. Even outside of work.

When everything happened and Aaron was spending time at home more, you visited every day if there wasn't a case. The first couple times you were there, you noticed Jack rambling about everything that popped into his head but Aaron was clearly not catching most of what was being said. He was trying to see the boy's face which was directed downwards as he played with his toys. Aaron would hum and nod even though he wasn't getting most of it.

When Aaron stood up to get you all a snack, you explained in a very nice and simple way to Jack that his dad can't hear very well right now. That it will help Aaron if he can see his mouth when he speaks and that it's best to speak as clearly as he can. "You understand what I'm saying, bug?" He nodded and said everything back to you so you knew he understood what you meant. For such a young child he was very intelligent and very understanding. He made sure to do just what you'd explained and you could see the look on Aaron's face when he was able to hear so much more of what the boy said to him.

Aaron didn't know you'd said this to his son. But if he knew, he'd have been very grateful regardless of the embarrassment he'd have felt. Because knowing what his son loves and wants to tell him all about is far more important to him than anything else.

Whenever Aaron was on the plane you always sat next to him, making sure to be on the side of his good ear. He noticed this after the first few times. He never mentioned it, though you knew he'd figured it out quickly.

He appreciated it. You always made sure he was fully informed and aware of what was happening. If someone threw an idea into the open and he looked a little lost, you would repeat it in his good ear. Or if you hadn't realised he missed something he would look to you and if you made eye contact he leaned in a little closer to you and you'd tell him then. Or if you hadn't been looking at him he would give you a slight nudge to get your attention. He was starting to get more comfortable asking for help, but only with you. He still wouldn't ask anyone else.

Everyone tried to be mindful and considerate. But they didn't go to the extent that you did.

Aaron's new situation was frustrating and irritating to him. It caused him more stress than he already had, which you knew was quite a bit. Sometimes it would overwhelm him and you were always there to pull him back down and comfort him. You were always there for him to lean on for support. He knew you didn't do all of this out of pity, but rather out of love and care and understanding for him.

There were a couple of times that he came to you in need of a shoulder to cry on. Both times it was mostly about him being afraid he'd never hear the same and that he would miss things he had taken for granted when he could hear them. He wasn't embarrassed around you anymore, especially not about this. He knew he could always come to you for support and he was always thanking you for how much you've helped him.

[little-mouse-gardens]

Yandere fae turtles

Random au idea that popped up in my head

Yan turtles spider wick chronicles au? Based on a random scenario i wrote involving my ocs while listening to music from pans labyrinth and the spider wick soundtrack

Also tagging @lexiechr , @souperwrites and @radicallxser, thanks for inspiring these headcannons!

Warning : Mentions of violence, blood, murder, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, kidnapping (I do not condone this behavior in real life. this is only for entertainment purposes only)

Reader moves into an old cottage in the woods and begins renovating it. Like has the ideas layed out on the table and everything.

However, as they move in and begin renovations for their dream cottage…..reader notices something’s…off

Maybe it’s the way the breeze blows likes its whispering their name, or the odd sensation of being watch, but things keep getting stranger.

- Such as things going missing (milk, honey, baked goods, gadgets and gizmos, soft blankets and clothes)

- new expensive items or just things reader wanted appearing on their doorstep with little notes, their garden is blooming in winter. little protective charms start being put up mysteriously, weak stuff to keep the smaller nuisances away. jewelry, coats, and robes with strand symbols.

Though the most worrying is the fact that the chickens they keep around are terrified of the forest at night. The birds usually so bold to follow you around are literally petrified to go past a seemingly invisible line that circles the entire house.

Eventually reader discovers the attic of an old professor who was an expert in fae and nymphology after multiple wierd events keep happening around their house. Oddly, a few pages of the journal are missing in the back. However they do take the time to skim over the books contents and discover they may have a fae Problem.

So, reader deals with problem accordingly.

Learning how to properly but politely decline the gifts left on your porch. Putting up charms of protection and making sure everything is cleansed properly. Even going as far as to leave tiny offerings just outside of the edge of the forest to distract whoever or whatever was doing this.

Lining their house with stones, to ensure that there’s a barrier between your home and the fae.

Though reader reads back on the journey and realizes some forms of offering or giving trinkets can be interpreted as courting……oops

Things get worse.

dead birds and other things start being dropped on your door step, the salt gets blown away in strong gusts of wind from the forest

Just a whole slew of the things that make reader worry about their safety. So they decide to read the professors journals in order to seek answers. Oddly, they notice some of the pages are missing…..

Not realizing they have caught the eyes of the four gaurdians of the forest who all seek to capture them and make reader theirs.

Page by page and day by, reader learns more of who could be behind this never ending line of mysterious events. Especially with the help of mayhem, a small fae they discovered living in the attic who properly helps them learn more about the four kings of the fae and the forest covered mountains.

Reader notices mayhem bringing back things such as adder stones and old pages from the journal during the day, but remaining hidden inside when nightfall comes. Using the adder stones to let mayhem chase of pesky goblins and pixies tormenting their poor chickens.

One day, four handsome strangers arrive in town. Four turtle mutants who each seem particularly affectionate and fond of reader whenever they stop by or run into eachother. Flirting, praises, ect. Yet when they visit they never cross the line of stones.

The brothers come by on occasion, or rather frequently, but are strange around the house and insist on being chilavalorous and being invited in

Not once.

They hang out at the edge of your circle of stones. Often ask if you want to go for a late night walk or to invite them inside your home. ***Don’t. Do. It***

Either they wont leave, or you’ll disappear. And don’t give them your name under any circumstances.

Reader, having studied the journals and noticing mayhems aggression towards them, sense something off with the mysterious strangers who seem to shower them in attention and gifts. So, reader goes back home one evening and spends most of the night piecing together that journal

Page by page and using the old, pencil over some seemingly blank paper to reveal its hidden message indented into parchment. All the while they hear the noises of whispers on the wind. Affectionate but manipulative praises of love to come outside and be with them.

Reader doesn’t fall for it.

And eventually reader discovers the true identities of the turtles once mayhem helps them glue the last page inside.

So, by the fireplace with mayhem protectively flopped over by the front door, reader reads up on the boys true identity’s. Quietly going over the inked lettering bit by but until they’ve remembered everything. Even about the four higher-ups above, the court of four Kings with the same names as the regular four Kings. though reader just refers to the court of four Kings as the peepaws for a bit of comedy relief.

- Raphael : prince of the trolls, giants, often a brute to those who cross him. Steals soft blankets, plush toys and just anything he deems worthy to add to his space of comfort. His den of blankets and nest of comforts. Never cross him, steal what’s his or mess with his brothers unless you want to be brutally beaten to death by a mutant with the strength of a giant. He was the one to take old plushies, pillows, blankets from your home Before your began setting up protective charms

- Leonardo and Donatello : princes of the goblins, hobgoblins and boggarts. A dangerous duo, both together and separated they are cunning. Donnie is calculating and clever, no one has yet to match his genius and will torture those who don’t give him offerings of precious metals of human gadgets. Leonardo is a charming almost smug fae, he’s clever and manipulative to a fault with expensive tastes, he has his ways of getting what he wants and torture is one of them, though his preferred method is illusion and mind games. Leaving old consoles or expensive items outside your house and they’re quickly snatched up by the pair or their people

- Finally there is Michelangelo : princes of the fairies, pixies, brownies and smaller fae who use their creativity and affection to lure their victims. A tad bit spoiled despite his sweet and bubbly demeanor. He will throw a fit for the ages when he doesn’t get what he wants. Appease him with sweets and art supplies if you must. However his sweetness is only reserved for those he wants to reserve it for……I’m not going to say what his methods of disposing of victims are, let’s just say it’s too traumatic for the minds of mankind

It’s suffice to say, a lot of readers items go missing. Got a painting or art supply you left in sight of the window? Suddenly it’s plastered all over Mikey’s own nest. Jewelry that’s broken? Patched up and apart of each of the boys attire. Although important items to reader that they care a lot about are always returned before the end of the day

mayhem usually takes trips outside to find it. Stealing it right from under the boys noses and scampering back to readers house with stolen goods in their jaws.

Occasionally readers neighbor April pops on by to help out. She’s nice….something feels off but she’s nice nonetheless. Though the protective fae circle is slightly crooked in some spots after she leaves.

But once reader is prepared to deal with the boys, they start sitting out on their porch at night. Humming a random tune to their favorite song and quietly making satchets to hang in the doorways. Leaving offerings for smaller fae just outside of the circle. Making sure to make eye contact with any of the bois if they decide to come closer from the treeline.

And they do. They’re head over heels for this person. So of course they would approach, Each ones words Filled with nothing but loving compliments and promises to make reader their partner. To have them rule by their side over their domain.

They live gifts outside the circle, making sure reader sees each of them doing it. they grin and blow kisses, stalking around the circle

That is until they see one of their brothers. It either ends in them having a stare off and duke it out. They’d politely sabotage each other’s gift. Larger gifts over shadowing smaller ones. Making their gifts more eye catching to reader.

sometimes, reader will occasionally tease them back. Saying that it wouldn’t be too bad if they went with one of them on certain conditions. Which practically redoubles the boys efforts to woo their new potential partner. All the while reader goes into sage the house with mayhem glaring at the turtles from the front porch steps.

And each of the boys subjects defiantly do their best to try and help out their king.

Trolls and larger fae sent to help repair readers house

Goblins, and boggarts sent to fetch reader new clothes, expensive objects or things reader likes

Pixies, fairies and brownies to finish house chores, redecorate and replenish the home

All of whom are attempting to convince and argue reader should marry their prince. How their prince would be the perfect husband, how the other fae would love to help reader get settled into their new home in the forest, ect.

Just when reader thinks it couldn’t be more crazy. That’s when they finally catch the eyes of the four kings, previous princes now grown. (Aka the future turtles)

Much more powerful than the princess and certainly more menacing. Handsome, Bigger, more decked out in lavish clothes and jewelry, and covered in scars From fights and other events in their long lives.

Their colors may be a bit more faded than their younger counterparts but they make up for it in sheer presence.

Each one of them absolutely adore reader and are delighted the empty throne by their side will be filled with a loving partner to share their lives with and spoil. Perhaps, just potentially, that nursery in that beautiful sunny spot in the woods could be filled with the soft cries and giggles of an heir they Could care for with tenderness and love.

Now, reader must deal with eight admirers, all of which have tricks of their sleeves.

Much more expensive gifts and even more gestures of goodwill…..

Including leaving young Casey, king Leonardo’s son, in the care of reader. The young boy left on readers porch and convinced this was his new parent he was supposed to bring back home to his family.

Reader almost fell for the whole ‘my dad’s hurt in the woods’ trick, if it wasn’t for the fact mayhem and the chickens kept staring out into the treeline. Watching Leonardo smirking from the shadows with anticipation.

So, reader trusts their gut, and just decides to take the little toddler in and raise them as their own. Feeds him, reads him stories, lullaby’s, plays with him. Ect.

However reader has to constantly remind him not to remove the new protections on the cottage. Though the boy always breaks down in tears and reader always tells him it’s okay and not to do it again. Though when his parent is asleep, he speaks to his fathers and uncles about why his ‘parent’ won’t come home with them and what was he doing wrong.

Eventually, since the peepaws can break through the barriers, reader must go off into the woods to get some random flowers for a wreath they were making. Taking Casey on a small trek into the woods just when the satchets finally wear off.

Giggling and whispers can be heard beckoning reader to the woods over the sound of Casey going on about how happy he was to finally be with his parent, ect.

In the blink of an eye and before mayhem can reach them, reader is whisked off by one of the turtles. Never to be seen again.

Waking up in one of the eights domains of with one of the turtles snuggled up to them. Murmuring about they’ll be so happy there with them, and how they’ll shower them with love and gifts so they can never leave.

Escaping them will be difficult, and after the impromptu wedding. Reader must play the part until the opportunity to escape and rid themselves of the immortality they’ve been granted.

But be warned

They will hunt you down once you do

And you better hope you can make it out of town before they do find you

[echo-bleu]

End of the Year Fic Recs

thank you @thescrapwitch and @sallysavestheday for tagging me!

This is a wonderful game, I love reccing fics and I should do it more. I'll keep it all Silmarillion for the recs, since that's the bulk of what I've read this year. I haven't had the spoon to leave proper comments on some of these, so hopefully reccing them can count too?

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

- The Harrowing by @chthonion. I am forever in awe of this whole series and of Chthonion's writing. Somehow every single sentence is relatable and at least half of them are a punch in the gut, but in a healing way. A delightful Frodo, Celebrimbor and Finrod working through their trauma and Annatar, remade as an elf, learning how to be a good person (and a person at all, really).

- we will make this place our home by @leucisticpuffin. Truly delightful 70s AU as narrated by 8 year old Elrond, who just makes my heart melt in every chapter. Maedhros and Maglor as traumatized foster parents doing their best, the twins with their antics and their fears and joys, it's such a breath of fresh air and I can't get enough of it.

- Hanged Man by @tethysresort. Second age fic about the fall of Eregion and the start of Imladris with so much interesting worldbuilding and plot, and characterization of Elrond and Glorfindel especially that I really loved.

- Everlasting Song by @amethysttribble. This is perhaps a little more niche, a crossover with A Song of Ice and Fire, but I'm not an ASOIAF fan at all and I have like two whole memories of the books and I'm still finding absolutely delightful. Top-notch characterization of the Fëanorians, and it really keeps you on your toes.

- Aurë entuluva by @theheirofashandfire. Just very recently caught up with it and I love it to bits! The time loop is all kinds of angsty and breathtaking, and I really love the world that is being constructed afterwards. Wonderful Russingon, and I'm also, especially, in love with her Curufin and Celegorm.

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

- Wayward Son by @thescrapwitch. Angst exactly like I like it. Fëanor and Maglor, and it will make you cry. @thescrapwitch writes Maglor just wonderfully and I really love this Fëanor that will do absolutely anything for his son.

- On the difference between hostages and sons by leodesic (and the rest of the series as well). Absolutely delightful Elrond and Elros, as seen by Gil-galad when they first come to his court. I love Elrond defying expectation, and this was such a wonderful read.

- the world to come by arriviste. Arda Remade, told through the shadows and the gaps of what's missing. It's eerie, and I love a well-written eerie fic that leaves you feeling a little off-balance. Wonderful reflection on the price of perfection.

- Sea-Bells and Sunlight by @actual-bill-potts. Finrod, Lúthien and Beren in Mandos. This broke my heart in the best way.

- in the breaking by @thelordofgifs. Short but terribly impactful study of Maedhros and Maglor before the end, one of the best I've read of them.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies).

- A Farewell to Arms by MorwenSteelsheen (LOTR, Farawyn). Such a wonderful characterization and development of Faramir and Éowyn's relationship in a slight canon divergence where Éowyn arrives in Gondor two years before the end of the war of the Ring.

- The Splintered Light by @thearrogantemu. The whole series. These Gifts That You Have Given Me (Silvergifting) is well-known in the fandom, I think, and I absolutely loved it, but the other fics set in the Fourth Age were among the first I read in this fandom that I just fell straight in love with.

- The Host of the West by @mynameisjessejk. Various fics of the Otter Mayhem and Otterless Mayhem series could have gone into every category here because I love them all, but this is the one I chose because I reread it yesterday for the fourth (fifth?) time and it still had me bawling my eyes out. Probably my favourite Finrod, and definitely an inspiration for my own writing. The whole series is about healing and redemption and elf therapy and all of it is delightful.

- The Peril (and Potential) of Unleashing Lightning in a Fishbowl by @dawnfelagund. This one took everything I thought I knew about Caranthir, threw it out the window and gave me a truly brilliant characterization I didn't know I needed in my life. The worldbuilding is also delightful, and so is Amarië.

- Aranya by SpaceWall. I read this recently and it's really staying with me. Some people in my asks have expressed interest in fics that take the Valar to account for their mistakes, and this is a wonderful one. With a bonus revolution. I really love the non-linear storytelling as well, a hard-to-use tool that is done wonderfully here. Plus the title is inspired.

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

- your veins are empty of dust. Character study of Nerdanel as feels her family die across the sea, and she sculpts. This is also the fic for which I made the art I'm probably the proudest of to date.

- your smile tells me I'm safe. Modern AU with aro Maedhros and a Russingon QPR.

- silver. Míriel, Celegorm and Celebrimbor, and living with chronic illness.

- the light that you keep burning there. Part of a much larger AU where the second and third kinslayings don't happen, but this one is about Maedhros, Maglor and Fingon in the later years, as the world crumbles, trying to remember what (who) they're fighting for.

- if I am to braid my mystic crown. The Silmarillion retold through worldbuilding headcanons about braids.

Tagging @unforth @foodsies4me @wren-of-the-woods @camille-lachenille (I don't know who has already done it, so feel free to send me a link if you have!)

[chickensarentcheap]

I FOUND: THE MISSING PIECES

CHAPTER TWO

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake x Esme Drummond (OFC)

Summary: A collection of requested one and two shots that cover the CANON events mentioned in the original “I Found” story. It’s not a necessity to have read it, but it might help.

Author’s Note:

This is a companion piece to “I Found”. When I first wrote the story four years ago, I had every intention of including ‘flashback’ chapters that weaved Esme into the events of Extraction. Sadly, I lost my confidence at the time and ended the fic before I was one hundred percent ready to do so. Which I deeply regret. In the time that has passed, readers have requested both 'movie canon-centric’ pieces and those that cover events between Tyler and Esme that were merely mentioned.

Please keep in mind that the pieces are NOT in chronological order according to the movie timeline or Tyler and Esme’s persona timeline. Instead, they are written and posted in the order in which the readers submit their requests.

Thank you! I hope you enjoy.

Love, Chickens

WARNINGS: SLIGHT SMUT, PROFANITY, MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC PHYSICAL AND SEXUAL ABUSE, MENTIONS OF CHILD DEATH

Tagging: @tragiclyhip, @watermeezer @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @kmc1989

@asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @alisbackalleybbq @karimac

@arrthurpendragon @themaradwrites @munstysmind @fanficanatic-tw @ocappreciationtag @occommunity

****

WHERE: GASPAR'S SAFE HOUSE

“Tyler?”

He teeters on the edge of sleep, his body exhausted and aching; a dull, throbbing pain that seems to travel from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes.  He feels as if he’s lived a lifetime in a matter of twenty-four hours;  his flesh littered with abrasions, bruises and gaping, hastily tended-to wounds.  The silence surrounding him a welcome reprieve from gunfire and mayhem;  temporarily tucked away in that quaint safe house on the city's outskirts.  

The booze and the pain meds have begun to take effect; a haze and warmth that lower both his guard and his inhibitions and soften the chaos and the incessant second-guessing that have plagued his mind for hours.    But her voice -quiet and apprehensive-  somehow manages to cut through the layers of inebriation and exhaustion.  And when he opens his eyes and glances towards the stairs, he discovers her standing on the middle landing; illuminated by the couch-side lamp and the glow of the light above the stove.

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay to come down there?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

He watches as she descends the remaining stairs and approaches, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floors. Her hair is loose and dishevelled from sleep; thick, dark tresses framing her face, tumbling over her shoulders, and spilling down her back.  Her tiny frame drowns in a man’s button-down shirt;  crisp and cool cotton in charcoal grey,  the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.  One of many offerings that Gaspar had left behind in a plastic bag on the kitchen table;  faded and tattered t-shirts and old jeans with holes in the knees and pockets and loose threads dangling from the cuffs.  With nothing appropriate for a woman -especially one of Esme’s petite stature- available, she’d been relegated to washing her original clothes by hand; tattered and stained by blood and now drying over a chair on the small back porch.

Despite the dim lighting, he can see how heavily body and spirit bear the toll of the day;  a slump to normally confident shoulders, a limp that replaces the normal bounce to her step. The sparkle of those dark eyes diminished;  now dull and lifeless from a potent mixture of exhaustion,  discomfort,  grief, and concern.   And when she stands in front of him, he can see the damage done to her pale, smooth skin;  a bruised and slightly swollen left cheek, a red and angry abrasion that mars her forehead and disappears into her hair,  and a small split to her bottom lip that appears sore and tender.

Yet, she’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

His hands find her hips as she steps between his splayed thighs. “You should be asleep.”

“I was going to say the same thing to you.”

“I’ve been resting my eyes. Here and there.”

“I damn near had a panic attack. I woke up and didn’t even remember coming here.  I didn’t recognize anything,  you were gone.  That’s what totally freaked me out.  I didn’t know where you went, and I thought maybe something bad happened and you had to leave us here or…”

“I’d never do that.   No one is getting left behind. Especially not you.”

“It just scared me.  Not knowing where I was.  Being disoriented and alone and…”

“I only left because I didn’t want to wake you up.  I couldn’t shut my brain off.  And if I’d stayed up there and just kept tossing and turning…”

She reaches out;  gentle fingertips exploring the bruises and wounds that litter his face.  “Are you feeling any better?”  

“A little.  The meds kicked in about ten minutes ago.”

She gently explores the cut above his right eyebrow and the abrasions on his cheek. “Did you take a lot?”

“I only took a couple.  Just to take the edge off.  Nowhere near enough to knock me on my ass.”

“I mean, I know it’s not any of my business; how many pills you take or how much booze you drink.  But…”

“We talked about this. A couple of days ago. About how it’s becoming your business.”   

 When their plans to travel together after the job in Dhaka had been made official,  they’d been accompanied by a conscious decision to turn his life around. Or at least attempt to.   There’s an optimism he clings to;  the belief that their immense attraction to one another will follow them into the ‘regular world’.   That it isn’t solely rooted in similar experiences and shared circumstances; their equally traumatic childhoods,  their time in the military and their failed marriages, the stress and the unpredictability of the ‘job’.    

 It’s the first time in years that he’s felt any sense of positivity regarding the direction of his life; finding himself no longer obsessed with wanting to catch a bullet or interested in drinking himself to death.  It would be the biggest mistake he’s ever made; turning his back on the second chance that lay before him.  And he’s determined to put the work in; wanting to clean himself up and give her the kind of man she wants, needs, and deserves .

“I worry about you.”  Pushing her hands into his hair, she allows the longer strands to slip through her fingers.  “I know you’re not to use that; someone giving a shit.”

He can’t remember the last time someone expressed any kind of concern in regards to his well-being.  While boldly -yet erroneously- calling herself a friend, Nik views him as both a nuisance and a commodity.  While none of the other mercenaries on her payroll come close to possessing the same level of skill and knowledge, his issues with drugs and alcohol often get in the way of her securing a client -and a mission- only he can conquer. Her friendship comes with a price;  relying heavily on his ability to keep himself alive and the cash rolling into her bank account.  And Mia had never been an affectionate or nurturing person;  lacking those traits long before their marriage had started to sour.  A byproduct of her career and upbringing, she’d always been rather cold and distant; expecting the man to be continuously ‘rock steady’ and admittedly ‘turned off’ by any show of softness or vulnerability.

His mother.   She’d been the only one who’d ever shown him that kind of care and concern.  Loving him unconditionally; with every breath she took and every punch and kick his father had rained down upon.  Continuously -and selflessly- putting herself…mind, body, and soul…in the direct path of his ire to keep her only child safe. Attempting to give him some semblance of a normal childhood despite all the bloody noses,  broken ribs,  split lips and trips to the emergency room.    It was the last time he’d ever felt loved;  the only person who allowed her to show and express emotion and experience moments of fear and weakness. 

Nearly three decades.  Since anyone has given a shit.  And it seems so foreign now; finding himself at the receiving end of even the smallest forms of affection.  

“It’s been a long time,” he admits.

“That’s not right,” she laments.  “That’s not right at all .”

Her hands continue to move through his hair; gently and repeatedly combing the dirty blond tresses.  He finds himself unable to take his eyes off her; transfixed by the tenderness that both touch and gaze possess.  The couch side lamp bathes her skin in a soft, almost ethereal glow;  highlighting the juxtaposition between the bruises and cuts that mar her flesh and the gentle smile that curves moist lips.  

 It takes his breath away;  her emotions -a mix of concern,  adoration, and lust-  written so plainly upon her face. He doesn’t deserve it; someone regarding him in such a manner, wanting and needing him to the depths and lengths she’s already shown.  And while part of him whispers to push her away and spare her the hurt that he’ll eventually cause,  an even louder and more persistent one screams at him to never let her go. 

A shiver travels through him as her nails lightly scrape along his scalp and down onto the nape of his neck; those small, delicate fingers dancing over his skin before deftly and easily manipulating the sore, tense muscles below them.  His eyes close; a sigh of both weariness and contentment escaping his lips as his head falls forehead and his brows rest against her.   It’s intimacy in its purest;  her touch soothing as he completely lowers his guard and allows himself a rare moment of vulnerability.   She won’t judge him for it;   won’t scoff, scold or mock upon discovery of a chink in his armour.    Not the type to view him as less of a man because of a show of weakness;  instead preferring to nurture the rarer, softer fragments that linger under his tattered edges and worn and weathered exterior.

When she gently tugs on his hair, he tips his head back and gazes up at her;  eyes riveted on hers as she affectionately strokes his ears and slowly traces the outer edges with the tips of her index fingers. It isn’t until she releases a sigh of her own and scraps her top teeth over her bottom lip that he physically reacts; his hands smoothing over the curve of her hips and down the sides of her thighs before slipping under the bottom of her shirt. He hears her sharp intake of breath when rough, calloused palms glide across soft, supple flesh. Sees the way her eyes darken when he traces a slow, methodical circle around her navel and gently tugs on the hoop that passes through it.  Feels both the shiver that passes through her and the goosebumps that invade her skin as his fingertips skim along the waistband of her simple cotton panties.

“This is wrong.”  Her voice trembles as she speaks. Barely above a whisper. “This is so, so, so wrong.”

“You could be saying  that about the last five days.” 

“I don’t mean that.  Us.  If there even is an us.”

His palms follow the curves and slopes of her ass and hips.  Finding himself amused by her disappointed pout when his hands slip out from under her shirt.   “I thought that was pretty obvious.” 

“I meant this. Here. Your friend’s place.” 

“If it makes you feel any better…”. His fingers tend to the buttons on the simple cotton garment. “…he doesn’t actually live here.  It’s a safe house.  He has no real ties to this place.”

“Always so rational.” 

Allowing the shirt to fall open, his hands once more find her hips;  fingers pressing into the supple flesh as he aggressively pulls her closer.  She heaves a shaky sigh and violently shudders when his lips press against her stomach;  her fingers burrowing in his hair as the tip of his tongue draws a lazy circle around her belly button and his teeth pull at the stainless steel hoop.   Her nails digging into his scalp when he presses a series of kisses along her abdomen;  slowly travelling from hip to the other, then stopping at the strip of lace that covers her pussy.  And nuzzling his nose against her, he can smell and feel the moisture that dampens the thin fabric. 

Her hands tighten their grip on his hair as he presses a line of warm, moist kisses across her waist; his mouth travelling slowly from hip to hip as his calloused fingertips drift over her ribcage.   It’s a power juxtaposition;  the softness of his lips paired with the roughness of his beard.   She’s overwhelmed by the things he manages to stir inside of her; a level and ferocity of want and need that no one else has brought to the plate.   On the good days, sex with Mark had been a chore; she merely tolerated it and certainly never initiated nor truly enjoyed it.  On the bad days, it was expected of her;  threatened and forced and punished -severely- if she had the nerve to say ‘no’ or push him away.   After the marriage fell apart, she’d sworn off all forms of sexual activity that involved a partner;  convinced she could happily live the rest of her life tending to things on her own. 

And then she wandered into the debilitated shack in the middle of the Australian outback.

A violent shiver travels the length of her body as his hands and mouth travel upwards.  Suckling and nipping at her collarbone while his palms cup her breasts;  a whimper escaping her lips when his thumbs brush against her nipples.  He reaches for her hair, his grip tight and unrelenting as he pulls her down into a kiss; his strength and power cause her to lose her balance and tumble into his lap. His hands aggressive and needy as they easily manipulate her much smaller and lighter frame;  settling her on his lap,  her knees on either side of him.

Both kisses and touch are rough and unapologetic. Bruising lips and duelling tongues as his hands dispose of remaining clothes and hers yank at shirt buttons and belt buckle and hurriedly open the clasp and zipper on his pants.  There’s no romance;  no extended foreplay, no whispers of adoration or praise, no tenderness or adoration.  And she audibly gasps when he pushes into her with one strong, fluid thrust;  her head falling backwards and her nails digging painfully into the bruises and cuts that mar the back of his neck and shoulders.  

He remains undeterred;  the pain is no match for the depth and the power of the want and need that take over every fibre of his being.  His mouth finds the hollow of her throat;  licking, sucking, and biting at the skin as his palms find the smooth curves of her ass.  Fingertips biting into the soft, supple flesh as he controls every movement.

****

They sit in silence; basking in the afterglow with her sideways on his lap and her legs hanging over the arm of the chair, both his arms wrapped around her. Her head on his shoulder; one hand resting on his side,  the fingers of the other repeatedly brushing the hair at the back of his head and the nape of his neck.  Clothes discarded earlier in haste gathered up and put back on; avoiding the awkwardness if Ovi awakens and wanders downstairs or Gaspar shows up unexpectedly.   His palm rests on the side of her left thigh;  fingertips repeatedly moving over the skin in slow, smooth circles.

“Tyler?”

He turns his face into hers, lips meeting her brow.  “Mmm?”

“Where should we head first? Where do you want to go the most?”

“What?”

“When we travel.  Once all this is over.  What should we put first on the list?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t really thought about it.  Wherever you want to go, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s it. Leave the hard work to me.   I’m terrible at making decisions. I’ll pick something now and by this time next week, I’ll have changed my mind a dozen times.”

“Why don’t we get the hard stuff out of the way? I know you’ve been freaking out about the idea of going back to Colorado and having me meet your folks.   If we do that first, you’ll be able to relax; have a good time when we go other places.”

“You know…” Esme presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “...sometimes you are wise.  So wise.”

“Are you saying I’m a dumb ass all the other times?”

She nuzzles the sensitive spot under his left ear with the tip of her nose. “Never.”

He’s getting used to it; her almost overwhelming need to give and receive affection.  She’s the first partner he’s had that’s been so needy in that respect, and decades of being touched starved has caused him to be standoffish at times;  unsure of how to react to her not being afraid to seek out physical contact.  But she’s patient and understanding and never takes initial resistance or hesitation as a personal slight.  After only five days, he’s both accepting and responding with much more comfort and ease; not realizing just how much he’s missed tenderness and affection.   And amidst all the chaos, unpredictability,  and fear of what’s to come,  her mere presence gives him a welcome escape.  The touch of her hands, the feel of her lips, and the smell of her hair somehow easing the weariness and the tension. Even if only temporarily.

“You don’t really want to go there, do you?”

“I want to see the mountains.  Go snowboarding.”

“You do realize we can  do those things without going near my family, right?”

“It was your idea.  To take me to meet them.”

“And now I realize what a shitty idea it is.  And no…”  Laying a hand on his cheek, she turns his face towards her. “...you are not the reason I don’t want to see them.  I mean, you are .  But not in the way you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“I’m not ashamed. Or embarrassed.  When it comes to how we met and how quickly things happened between us.   And it has nothing to do with who you are and what you do or…”

“Esme,  none of that shit crossed my mind.”

“It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.  I know what they’re like; I’ve put up with their bullshit all my life.  They thrive on bullshit and drama. Especially my mother.  Why would I want to subject you to that ? You haven’t done anything to deserve that kind of punishment.”

“Haven’t you been waiting your entire life for someone to come along and put your mother in her place?  Well, the time’s come. Now’s your chance.”

“You have no idea what she can get like.  Just how awful she is.  She’s a miserable, evil bitch.  And I can only imagine what kind of shit is going to come out of her mouth. About you, about me…”

“I’m not your ex-husband.  I’m not the type that’s just going sit there and let it happen.  She steps out of line, I put her back in it.”

Smiling, she reaches up to brush the longer strands of hair off his forehead. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I would.  Someone’s got your back now.  And she should know it.”

“My hero,” she playfully croons, and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin.

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore.   I’ll let her know.  And I won’t be nice about it.”

“You really are a knight in shining armour.”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Knight in slightly tarnished armour?”

“I’ll let you have it.”

They lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence;  her head against his shoulder, the nails of one hand lightly and repeatedly brushing against his beard. His chin rests on the top of her head as calloused fingertips continue tracing random patterns on the side of her thigh and back of her knee.  And he’s once more on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; eyes flickering open, finding her staring up at him.  Those enormous dark eyes once more filled with concern, her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“Who?”

“Ovi.”

“We’re going to get him out of here.  Get him back where he belongs.”

“I mean after .  When this is over.  What happens when you do get him home?  His father’s in jail. There’s no one there to protect him.”

“ I haven’t stopped to think about that.  Yet.”

“Asif will never let him live. Think of the disgrace.  He isn’t going to give up, Tyler. He’ll go after him again.  And this time, things will end up so much worse.  It won’t be about money, or power, or influence.  Or disrespecting or embarrassing Mahajan.  It will be about revenge.  And you know what people like Asif are capable of.   They’re violent and depraved and the things he’ll do to Ovi…”

“This is why you couldn’t sleep, huh?”

“He’s just a kid.  He doesn’t deserve this.   And if there’s no one around to keep an eye on him…”

“What do you think we should do?  How would you handle it?”

“I don’t know.  But there has to be something, right? That we can do? That you can do?”

“Short of sticking around in Mumbai and keeping an eye on him until shit dies down…”

“Would that be something you’d be willing to do?”

“Would you? Be willing to do it?”

“I’m not sure,” Esme admits.  “It wouldn’t be the safest place, you know? We’d all have targets on our backs.  Hanging around,  just waiting for trouble to show up? Not my idea of a good time.”

“What else is there? What other options do we  have?”  

“We could bring him with us.  We could put off travelling. Spend some time hiding out somewhere. We could take him to your place;  lie low in the outback for a bit. Or we could go to Prague. Stay at my place; just until we know the coast is clear and that  Ovi will be safe back in Mumbai. It makes sense, right? For you to be the one to do it.  I know there wouldn’t  be any pay at the end of things, but…”

“It’s not about money. It stopped being about that hours ago.”

“I just think it makes sense; that we take him with us.  You can keep him safe.  He trusts you.  And I think that…”

“You know what I think?  I think it’s been a long day.  And I think you’re tired and overwhelmed and you need to try and turn your brain off.  Or at least quiet it down a bit. I know you’re neurotic as fuck sometimes, but…”

She grins.  “You already figured that out, huh?”

“Less than a day into knowing you.”

Scowling, she tugs playfully at the hair covering his chin. 

“Why don’t we just let it go for now; cross that bridge when we get to it.  Because it’s been a hell of a fucking twenty-four hours and my brain needs some peace and quiet.  And I know yours does too.”

“I just…”

“Not right now, okay? Let's try and get some sleep.  We need it.”

Nodding in agreement, she nestles her cheek against his shoulder. Several minutes passing before she gives a loud yawn and once more sits up/

“Esme…”  Tyler doesn’t open his eyes. “ I swear to God…”

“I have a lot on my mind, okay? It’s really noisy up in there. And I won’t be able to sleep until it quiets down a bit. Humour me? Please?” 

Sighing,  he opens his eyes and slides a palm to the back of her head; fingers pushing through her hair to gently massage her scalp. “What’s going on?”

“I need to ask you something.  And it might cross a line or two or trample on a couple of boundaries.   I know we haven’t known each other long and it’s kind of personal and you might want to tell me to mind my own fucking business, but  I’m just asking because I’ve been getting some really bad vibes and I’m nervous and worried and…”

He chuckles; her tendency to ramble when excited or nervous never crossing the line between amusing and insufferable. “Just take a breath, yeah?  It can’t be that bad.”

“It depends on what you consider bad. Or intrusive.”

“I think we’ve reached a point where nothing could be considered intrusive. Considering what’s been going on the last five days and just happened twenty minutes ago…”

“I’m only asking because I’m worried.  And a bit scared.  I…”

He squeezes the nape of her neck.  “Just ask.”

“How well do you know him?”

“I take it we’re not talking about Ovi this time.”

“Gaspar.  How close are you guys exactly?”

“We’re mates, I guess.  If we’re in the city, we’ll go out and grab something to eat, have a beer or two.”

“Would you say you’re solely ‘work buddies? That the only time you see him is if there’s a job involved?”

“Yeah, I’d say.  It’s not like we see each other regularly or we hang out when it’s our downtime.  I don’t exactly call or text him or shit like that, if that’s what you’re asking. Why…?”

“So you’re not friends friends. You don’t visit one another, you don’t know much about each other’s personal lives, you’re not on one another’s Christmas card list or…”

“I barely see the guy.   We’re work friends. Colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less.  We won’t be visiting each other any time soon.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m being a huge bitch and personally attacking your friend or assuming bad things about him or…”

“Are you going to get to your original question sometime today or…?”

Taking a deep breath, she releases it slowly, then chews pensively on her bottom lip.   “Do you trust him?”

“He owes me his life.”

“That isn’t what I asked.  Do you trust him?”

“Honestly?  I’m not sure.”

She sighs.

“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“I can’t shake this awful feeling that he’s up to no good.  Something just isn’t sitting right; the way Nik was so resistant when you told her to call him,  the way he looks at me like he wants to throw me to the wolves, the things he says…”

Tyler frowns.  “He talked to you? When? What did he say?”

“He didn’t confront me or anything like that.” The lie rolls easily off her tongue. “ And it’s not so much what he says, but how he says it.  He won’t even call me by name; when he’s talking to you he calls me ‘the girl’ or ‘that girl’.   That’s not a huge red flag to you?”

“Don’t take it personally. He’s always been a bit of an asshole.” 

“Something’s not right, Tyler.  And I know you’re feeling it, too.  Nik never would have put up such a fight about calling him if she wasn’t worried about something. ”

“I think everyone’s on edge.  We’re sore, we’re tired, we’re…”

“You just said you’re not sure if you trust him. So you’ve got the vibes, too. I know you do.”

“Whether I trust him or not,  this is our only option.   I have more control over things here than if we’re on the street, constantly looking for a place to hide out.  Do you trust me ?”

“With my life. You know I do.  But that doesn’t mean I can just ignore this.   The way I’m feeling.  Something is… off .  I can’t put my finger on what , but it is.  And the sooner things die down and we can get the hell out of here, the better.”

“If I start feeling worse about things…about him …I’ll get you and Ovi out of there.  I’ll figure something out;  find a place to lay low until Nik can get us out of here.  I won’t let anything happen to you.  And I will get you out of Dhaka.”

“Gotta get yourself out of here, too.  Remember our deal? Both of us or neither of us.”

“I never agreed to that.”

“You said you’d think about it.”

“I have thought about it.”

“And?”

“And I can’t make any promises.  Not when it comes to that.  You know how bad things can go. And how quickly it can happen.”

She scowls.  “That’s not an acceptable answer.”

“It’s the only one I have to give you.  Right now, anyway.  Are we done?  Did you get everything out of your head you needed to? Quiet things down a bit.”

“It’s a little better.”

“You’re safe, Esme.  Nothing can touch you here.  And if anything even tried…”

“I can’t pretend I feel good about this.  About him .”

“You don’t have to.  But for now?  Try and get some sleep.  It’s been a long fucking day.  And if you don’t settle down, shut your mouth, and close your eyes soon…”

“You’re such a sweet talker,”  she chides, and nuzzles the side of his neck with the tip of her nose.  “Let’s stay here a little bit longer.  Just like this.  I need it.  I need you .”

He obliges; wrapping both arms around her and pulling her even tighter against him.  Laying a palm on the back of her head, he draws it down onto his shoulder;  fingertips gently stroking her hair until her body relaxes against his. Her breathing softening and slowing as  she finally drifts off to sleep.

****

Despite succumbing to exhaustion, Tyler’s senses remain hypervigilant. Aware of the slightest change in temperature,  the softest of noises out on the street, every sigh and mutter Esme makes as she sleeps on the couch across the room, and each creak of a spring whenever she rolls over or adjusts her position.  His hearing is keen. Picking up on the rumble of an engine and the opening and shutting of a car door; a dog in the near distance barking at the intrusion.  

He senses the other man’s presence the moment he steps into the room; clocking the the shifting of floorboards beneath feet,  the rustling of a brown paper bag,  heavy, deep breathing, and a combined smell of cologne and perspiration.   He remains silent and motionless; not wanting Gaspar to be aware of his wakefulness.   The soft glow of the couch side lamp allows him to watch every move the taller, heavier man makes; his breath catching and his jaw clenching as Gaspar approaches the sofa.  

His hands curl into tight fists as Gaspar briefly observes a sleeping Esme,  then removes the throw from the back of the sofa;  draping it over and tucking it securely around her tiny body. Feeling both nausea and fury building inside of him when his old friend touches her; smoothing her hair away from her face and running a fingertip over the bruises on her left cheek and above her eye. And he isn’t entirely sure what he feels;  disgust, worry, rage.  Possessiveness, even.

 “What the fuck are you doing?”

Gaspar gives a small start, then an awkward chuckle as he turns away from the couch.  “You scared the shit out of me.  I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.  Now answer my question. What are you doing?”

“The windows are open. It gets chilly at night. I was just making sure she was warm.” 

His body aches as he stands.  A throbbing that seems to spread outwards from his bones; travelling from the roots of his hair to the tip of his toes. Reaching for the sling he’d discarded earlier, he winces as he pulls it over his head, gritting his teeth as he settles his injured arm into place.   Approaching the couch,  he places his body between it and Gaspar as he reaches down to wake her; grazing his knuckles along her swollen and bruised cheek. 

“Hey…”  Tyler softly jostles her shoulder.   “...Esme…”

Giving a loud yawn, she stretches languorously and turns her face towards him;  pressing her brow against his forearm.

 “Tyler…” 

It claws at his throat and heart; the way his name leaves her mouth so softly and tenderly.   It’s terrifying;  what should have been a ‘no strings attached’ arrangement quickly -and effortlessly- becoming so much more.   She’s the first person to attempt to get past the walls he’d built in the wake of his son’s death; effortlessly managing to burrow beneath the layers of guilt and grief and regret.  Breathing life back into him and making him feel again.

“Esme…”  His voice is louder, pushing past the last remaining veils of sleep. “...you need to get up.”

Rolling onto her side, she peers up at him, concern immediately furrowing her brow. “What’s wrong? Is there trouble? Do we need to leave? Do we…?”

“There’s nothing wrong.  No trouble.  Why don’t you go upstairs?”  Curling his fingers around her bicep, he guides her into a sit. “You’ll be more comfortable up there.”

“Okay,” she sleepily agrees, gathering the throw around her shoulders as he helps her to her feet.

Although Tyler notices Gaspar’s disgust when she briefly rests her forehead against his chest, he doesn’t hesitate;  placing his hands upon her shoulders and gently squeezing. “Try and get some more sleep.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“Alright.” Yawning once more, she presses the heels of her palms into her eyes; wrapping the throw around her as she shuffles through the living room and up the stairs.  

Both men remain silent.  Until they hear the squeak of the bedroom door as it closes, followed by her soft footfalls overhead.

“Now it’s my turn,” Gaspar speaks in a harsh whisper.  Shoulders tightly drawn, eyes narrowed in a mixture of anger and disgust. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You and that girl . And whatever the fuck is going on between you.”

“Esme.  Her name is Esme.   And whatever’s happening between us? That’s none of your business, mate.”

“You’re my friend. That makes it my business.  What is wrong with you?  This ? This latching onto someone. Practically throwing yourself at their feet.  It’s pathetic; watching you trip over yourself trying to get her to even look at you.”

“I’m getting it just fine.  Without having to do that.   And when have I ever had a job like this?  Working with someone? This isn’t normal for me.  She’s not normal.”

“It’s embarrassing; the way you are with her.  I saw it the second you walked in here; needing to be near her all the time, always finding ways to touch, batting your eyelashes at her every chance you get.  When did you get like this? When did you get so soft ?”

“Keep getting on my ass like this and you’ll find out who’s soft.”

“You need to get your head on straight.  You’re a mercenary, aren’t you Tyler? Then start acting like a mercenary.  Because this ? Her ? It’s wrong and you know it.”

“What’s going on with Esme and I has nothing to do with the job.  And nothing to do with you .  So if you don’t mind, mate, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about her.  Or go near her.  Just keep your distance. Because if I see you touching her again…”

“Get your shit together!” Gaspar snarls.  “You want to get out of here alive? Stop whatever is going on with that girl…”

“It’s too late for that.  To stop it.  So just back off and…”

“Don’t you understand that I’m worried about you?  That I see what’s happening? What she’s doing to you?  Are you that fucking blind that you don’t see it?  She’s using you, Tyler.  She’s lying and she’s manipulating and…”

“She’s not. She’s not doing any of that.”

“It’s what she does for a living.  Did you forget that?  Why she’s even involved in this job in the first place?  It’s who she is.  In the same way being a mercenary is who you are. She cons people for a living. And now she’s conning you . Because you’re her only chance of getting out of here alive.”

“That’s not what she’s doing.”

“Do you think she loves you?” Gaspar gives an incredulous laugh. “Is that what you think? That she sees you as some knight in shining armour that’s come along to sweep her off her feet?”

“You need to let this go, mate.  Because there’s nothing you can say or do…”

“This is what she does, Tyler; what she gets paid for.  She wanders into people's lives and turns them upside down. She lies and she uses and she…”

“That’s not who she is away from the job.”

“It’s exactly who she is. A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

“You don’t know her, Gaspar. You don’t…”

“And you do? It’s been what? A week? If that?  You think you know who she really is? That she isn’t using you and playing you the same way she has so many others? Why are being so fucking naive? Are you that lonely? That desperate? That you can’t see what’s going on?”

“You weren’t there.  Back in that hotel room.  You don’t know the things that happened or…”

“Oh, I know what happened.  You’re a red-blooded male, she’s an attractive woman.  It’s not hard to figure out.  And it must have been really damn good.  Bceause for you to be so naive and so fucking blind…”

“...or the things we talked about.  You need to let this go.  I don’t know what you’re trying to do or why you’re doing it…”

“She is going to ruin you, Tyler.  She is going to lie and manipulate and tell you everything you want to hear. She’s going to keep whoring herself out to you so…”

His fists clench. “I’m warning you, mate.  Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t talk about her at all .”

“Do you honestly believe someone like her would want someone like you?  That she doesn’t know what a mess you are? Look at her; she’s way out of your league and can do so much better,  Why would she want you ? All your baggage, all your bullshit. The pain meds and the booze and…”

“She knows I can change.  That I will change.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to run off with her? When all of this is over?  You’re going to get out of Dhaka and the two of you are going to live happily ever after? That’s bullshit and you know it.  Everything that comes out of her mouth is a lie; all the sweet nothings, all the pillow talk, all the promises.  And if you yanked your head out of your ass long enough to realize it…”

“I’m only going to tell you this once more.  It’s none of your business.  Don’t talk about her again. Don’t go near her. Don’t touch her. Don’t even look at her.”

“You’re in for hell of a rude awakening the second you leave here.  When you finally realize that everything she said…everything she did…was nothing but shit.  She’s using you, Tyler. Doing whatever she has to make sure she gets out of here. And when she does, she will leave you an even bigger mess than you were before.”

Smirking, he gives his head an incredulous shake. “We’re done here.”

Gaspar snatches him by the arm, preventing him from leaving. “This is going to blow up in your face.  And she’s going to leave you an even bigger mess than you already are.”

“Mind your own business, mate. That’s the last time I’m going to warn you.”

“Two broken people can not come together and make a whole. It doesn’t work that way.  You know what happens? In the end? They end up making each other worse.  They destroy everything.”

[skyethewolfwizard]

If you are seeing this, it is Christmas in the eastern half of the world. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and let's have a happy holiday to those who don't.

@f4y3w00d5 @good-wizard @ash-the-tiefling @aroace-wizard @be-gentle-with-littluns @viscerawizard @exispencer-crisis @gobo-dos-goblin @mayhem-moth @mothman-minus-the-man @bisexualchemistry @anne-androgynous-android @kaylasartwork @ruby-angel-wizard @helpfulapprentice @cannibalcanid @im-a-wizard-who-dont-crime @verylegalwizard @detectivewizzard @dude-the-ancient-dragon @dragoneatingpaladin @slymewitch @finleyforevermore @viscerawizard @ladyofspoons @latikon @the-adhd-sorcerer @yourlocalbreadenthusiast @drewpdrop @expletive-wizard @mtfjohnscp @mtf-agent-robin @the-discerning-skull @monsterfucker-research-wizard @vexum-the-diviner @l1terally-justawizard @goblinofthelaboratory @gobodegoblin @rohza-is-a-bit-gay

@pie-tra (Who I miss very much)

@aileaxthevoidien (Who I hope will get to see this)

And anyone and everyone else. Tag your moots aswell, as I am sure I have missed many.

And I would just want to thank you for all of your presences, even being around, popping up on my dash, or even interacting with me has always made me happy.

I hope that each of you get to live your dreams, and that whether we see each other again, or our paths are doomed to be parallel and never meet, know that you have had some positive impact on this world full of blight and evil.

I hope you have a wonderful holidays, and that maybe, even though it's unlikely. We may meet again. Whether it's physically or online, seeing you just one more time will always bring light to my day.

Now, since it's the end of the year, and this is somewhat like a meet up, let's sing a song to celebrate what might be (although unlikely) our last meetup all together.

And also of course an appropriate Christmas song from the one and only,

I hope to see you next year, I love each and every one of you. Stranger, mutual, friend, or anyone inbetween. :3

And maybe in a distant future, we will see each other and our true selves all together in one room. The dream many have, and I hope we will be amongst the ones to achieve it.

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 23

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

TW: Handjob, Fingering, Grinding

Oystein didn't actually expect Y/n to call him so soon but within the next few days, she called the shop and luckily he answered.

"Helvete." He answered looking through a page of lyrics for some of Mayhem's unfinished works.

"Hey...are you guys busy today?" Oystein sat up surprised hearing her voice.

"Um...no not really. Why? Are you okay?" He was slightly unsettled until he heard her laugh.

"No I'm fine, I was just thinking you should close the shop today and hang out with me." Y/n asked abruptly. Oystein was surprised by the ask but didn't want to say no.

"Y-yeah I would love that. Where are you? I can come get you." Oystein got up from his desk and grabbed his jacket.

"I'll meet you at your car." She hung up before he could say anything and he started stumbling over himself to get to the door. Faust watched him confused as he lounged in front of his little TV.

"You're in charge. If you leave, lock up." Oystein tossed the keys at him and bolted out of the door seeing Y/n leaning against the car with a smile on her face. He walks over to her and she holds up a bag.

"I brought your fuel." He could already smell what was in the bag and he leaned to kiss her cheek.

"Did you have anywhere specific you wanted to go?" Oystein asked opening the door for her.

"I kind of need to drop this food with my dad, do you think we can make a stop there first?" She asked hoping it wouldn't be weird but Oystein shook his head.

"Yeah of course." The drive started quietly, him not wanting to jinx anything and her staring at him, taking him in. She missed him, there was no denying that.

"I'm glad you called." Oystein finally spoke up.

"I'm glad you answered." She responded with a blush. Oystein had never met her dad but upon seeing him, he didn't seem to judge him at all. He simply extended his hand to shake and gave him a nod.

"You're in that band? Y/n has played the record for months. You're very talented." Her dad said genuinely and Oystein smiled.

"Thank you. We're in a bit of a hiatus right now but I am very proud of that album." Oystein said seeing Y/n blushing from the kitchen as she prepared her dad's food.

"Oystein, can I ask you a favor? Man to man?" He stepped a little closer towards him and Oystein nervously listened.

"Take care of my little girl. She does a lot to take care of the family and the last few years have been...very difficult for her. She deserves happiness and you seem to make her smile these days." Oystein felt warmth in his chest.

"I will do whatever it takes Sir. You have my word. I care very much about your daughter and I only want her to be happy." Oystein admitted earning a clap on the back. Y/n emerged from the kitchen and sat her dad's plate on a tray.

"I'm going to spend the day with Oystein. I should be home by-"

"Sweetheart, you're an adult. I will be fine. I will see you when I see you. Just go have fun and be safe." Y/n looked shocked.

"She's in good hands right Oystein?" Y/n met Oystein's gaze and he shook his head.

"Absolutely. I will take good care of her." His confidence made Y/n smile as she kissed her father goodbye and followed Oystein out of her house.

"How did you win my dad over in a matter of 10 minutes?" She laughed.

"What can I say? I'm good with parents." Oystein joked.

"Plus he apparently has had time to get to know me since the record has been playing nonstop in his home." He teased Y/n who rolled her eyes.

"Oh yeah right. Shut up." She smiled with a blush to her cheeks. The two of them decided to stop in at his parents house since they were already making stops and Oystein was surprised at how loving his family was to Y/n. His mother gave her a hug and Y/n thanked her for everything she had done for her family. His dad made sure to remind her that she was always welcome to come by if she ever needed anything and even gave his card to her to give her dad.

His sister was quick to ran up and hug Y/n. She spoke a mile a minute, talking her ear off and pulling her towards her room. Oystein smiled watching the exchange as his mother told him what a nice surprise it was to see him. He hadn't been home in a while but his mother was quick to help him make sure Y/n's family was taken care of after the death. Oystein didn't even seem to mind when his mom broke out baby pictures to show Y/n.

"Pssst." Oystein looked over towards the stairs and saw his sister hiding. He walked over towards her and leaned against the banister.

"Is Y/n your girlfriend yet?" She whispered. Oystein smiled, looking over to see if Y/n was paying them any attention.

"Not yet but I'm hoping maybe soon." He whispered back.

"Well hurry up! What are you waiting for?" His sister scolded.

"I'm trying! These things take finesse." Oystein said as his sister rolled her eyes at him. They spent the rest of the day at his parents house, catching up and talking about how things were going. Oystein loved that he was able to hear what Y/n had been up to in all the time that they hadn't been on speaking terms. Y/n could tell he wasn't as forthcoming about how things were going in the black circle or Helvete but his parents never pressed it. When they left, Oystein brought Y/n to his apartment and she looked impressed at how clean and put together it was.

"Wow, this is a really nice place. I wouldn't have expected this after seeing the last place you lived." Y/n smiled seeing that his bed was even made.

"I find I do better mentally when I live away from the band. I like organization. It's hard to be organized with a house full of-"

"Gross men?" Y/n laughed.

"Exactly." Oystein handed her a coke and she sipped it before sitting down on the couch. He followed suit and made sure to sit directly next to her, earning a smirk.

"Comfortable?" She asked as he pressed up against her side.

"Absolutely." He smiled at her so brightly that it made him laugh. She reached up and grazed his cheek.

"You have such a sweet smile. I've missed your smile." She admits. Oystein felt himself blushing as she tucked his hair behind his ear.

"I can't help it when I'm with you. Everything makes sense when you're around. I've missed being this close to you, having you near me all day has been the best day I've had in a long time." Oystein confessed.

"Thank you for spending the day with me." She said as he took her hands into his own and turned his body towards her.

"I've wanted a day like this with you since I met you." Oystein stared at her for a few seconds before he chanced a kiss, leaning forward and kissing her as gently as possible so she wouldn't second guess it. It was a brief kiss, full of sweetness and gratitude and when he pulled away she tilted her head down to hide her smile.

"I bet you bring all the girls back here with the same story." She joked knowing the mention of groupies would get a rise out of him.

"I've never brought anyone here. This is my home. I only want the things that make me feel safe and cared for here." Y/n could tell her was being serious and she bit her lip.

"I'm still not going to lose my groupie virginity sucking you off on your couch, Euronymous." She joked making him let out a snort.

"I wouldn't dream of it...actually no I very much would but to be fair, I would also dream about eating you out on the couch as well so..." He shrugged. Y/n watched him for a moment as he picked his coke back up to take a swig. She took the bottle out of his hands and placed it down before she moved to sit in his lap. Oystein sat back with wide eyes, surprised by the sudden movement.

"Y/n.."

"Can you just-" She couldn't find the words but Oystein knew she didn't need to say anything. He pulled her by the back of her neck down to his mouth, kissing her with less care than before. This time, the kiss was passionate. It felt like a kiss that waited years to get here and right now, all he wanted was to taste her on his tongue and feel her against his skin. She moved her hips in tiny circles until Oystein was hard beneath her, straining in his black jeans. When he felt her hand reach behind herself to palm the front of him he pulled away breathless.

"You don't have to...we don't have to do anything..." He wanted to make sure that this wasn't something she would regret.

"I've waited two years to be here with you Oystein. Please let me touch you." She asked so sweetly that he felt himself pain against the push of his cock against the seam of his pants. He rolled her onto her back and started to pull his belt off, tossing it to the floor as she unbuttoned his jeans and freed his cock. He shuttered at her touch, feeling chills between his shoulder blades watching her spit onto her palm and begin stroking him.

"Do you have any idea how much I've thought about your cock? Ever since we hooked up in the shop, I've wanted to get my hands on you, feel the weight of you in my hands, the taste..." She released him to lick the little bits of cum he was already leaking from her hand.

"Y/n I've never thought of anyone but you when getting myself off. I've missed your taste. I've missed everything about you." Oystein was practically breathless as she stroked him. He held himself above her, trying not to maintain himself but the way she used both hands to stroke his cock, cup his balls and roll them between her fingers made his whole body shake.

He knew he had to do something or else he was going to explode far too soon. He sat back on his heels and started to undo her jeans. She let him pull them down to about her thighs before she stopped him.

"We aren't going to have sex...not like this." She said squeezing his hands. He nodded his head in understanding before using his fingers to rub her juices along the lips of her pussy. He carefully pushed his fingers inside of her and almost felt himself cum just feeling how tight she was around his fingers.

"Oh fuck." She tilted her head back for a moment before she sat up and re-gripped his cock. He laid his body behind her, back against the couch as she tugged on him aggressively and he was able to pulse his fingers inside of her with the same fever. The only sound in the apartment was their moans and heavy breathing as they raced to make each other cum.

"I'm..I'm gonna cum baby. I'm gonna cum." He groaned into her neck. She jumped up from the couch, repositioning herself over top of him so that her pussy was now rubbing directly onto his cock as it sat stiffly against his torso, leaking and practically purple praying for release. She ground her hips down hard and Oystein gripped her hips trying to slow her motions, not ready to cum. She removed one of his hands from her hip to rub her clit and he started rubbing so fast her head tilted back like she was possessed.

"Oh fuck! Oystein, don't stop!" She cried jolting her hips against his leaking cock even fast. He made a noise of desperation before crying out. His cum shooting all over his belly, smearing against her pussy which was now leaving a pool of her own juices on his cock. She rode her own orgasms out while he twitched beneath her. When she had finished, she leaned down to kiss him, feeling his heart beating beneath her hand. She wanted every day to be like this with him and he dreamed that this would be the first of many of their days together.

[p-taryn-dactyl]

yelena belova master list

*if i have missed anything plz send me an ask with the link to the fic thank you so much <3*

Burnt Toast and Vodka

Game Night

Laser Tag and Donuts

BTaV drabbles:

burnt toast and vodka: blankets and scrabble burnt toast and vodka: nap-time and selfies burnt toast and vodka: bandaids and frisbees burnt toast and vodka: coffee and face masks

Operation Pancake (The Plan pt1)

Opperation Sandra Bullock (The Plan pt2)

hot chocolate and snow

Fail Safe 2 3

of christmas trees and mayhem

Grr

Let's Talk

[cookiesupplier]

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Seventeen

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, panic attack, stalking, online bullying.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: Unbeta'd, readers beware as always lol.

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999 @jilliemiw86 @ilovesamkiszka @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses @laurpartyprogram

Rick knew he shouldn’t have done it, he knew he shouldn’t have, but he watched Grace’s live with Vinny. No, they didn’t unblock her, that would be ridiculous, but he had a throwaway Instagram account, and it was perfect for times like this. It was random enough, that as long as they didn’t say anything in the chat, and didn’t jump out or anything he doubted Grace would even pay attention to the name, he doubted Grace even knew about it. It was quite literally a scramble of letters and numbers.

Listening to Grace as she sobbed, and cried about her version of events, answering questions about everything that had happened between them, if he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t been the one to go through it, he would have believed everywhere she had said. If Vin hadn’t been sitting next to him, grabbing at his hands and stopping him, the things he was tempted to type in the chat. Oh, how thankful he was, that they’d thought to turn off voice recognition before the live had started, or he might have been screwed.

Even so, the live itself exposed Grace to Ricky even more than anything else had. It exposed even more of her obsession, not just with him, but with the whole band itself. For her claims of what Talia had done to her, to him, was almost precisely the same story, a play-by-play in fact, of what that stalker had done to Chris and his fiance so many years before he’d even met Gracy… Except for the fact that Ricky had never proposed to Grace.

There had been a question in the live about if Rick had asked her during the tour and that was why she was with them this year, so you know the fans knew the story was similar, not that she acknowledged it in any way, assuming obliviousness. No, Grace had just gotten bashful and said that he hadn’t, however, she had her suspicions that he had planned to before she had turned up. Then she had had the gall to lament that now they would never know if he would have or not, and boy, had that caused an uproar. Grace had certainly missed her calling, working in boring retail, when she could have been an actress, she could have made a killing. She certainly had him fooled for years.

It wasn’t until near the end of the Instagram live that she really let the worst of what she had to say drop. That Talia, this mysterious woman, that she was claiming to be Ricky’s stalker and FAKE SOULMATE, that had been the cause of him breaking it off with her, conveniently leaving out that she had been faking being his soulmate herself mind you, was conveniently Vinny’s soulmate’s best friend, and that they were in cahoots.

She ended the live with that. Vinny and Ricky’s pages both EXPLODED.

Not just Ricky’s Instagram, but also his YouTube and Twitter. Vinny’s discord was smashed and his mods had to shut that shit down, so many people had to be muted and a new rule was implemented that if anyone spoke out against Ava they would be instantly put indefinitely put in timeout until they could sort out what was happening. The keyboard abuse was rife and it was beyond a joke. Everything was mayhem.

Ricky was fucking pissed, now they had to sort out what to do, Grace knew where to hit them, she hadn’t just dropped a bomb, she hadn’t just attacked him, but Vinny too. He was pacing back and forth down the hall on his phone, contemplating what the hell he should do, while Vinny was sitting at his computer desk arguing with someone on his computer, when he heard a car make its way up the drive.

He was contemplating whether he should make a post, a video on YouTube, something, setting the record straight, something that Grace wouldn’t be able to explain away. Right now, the fact that everything she said had been done over a live was to her advantage, not that it wasn’t saved somewhere, these days some people screen-recorded everything. He’d already seen it flooding the band's message boards, and the mods trying to shut down the hate over it, that was coming from it.

Hearing laughter echo inside the house from the front hall, Ricky looked up, it was Talia and Ava getting back from the trip into town.

“Shit.. Vin, Vin.”

Moving back to his room where he was still talking with his mods about the idiots on his discord,

“Talia and Ava just got back.”

What they were going to tell them? He didn’t know, but it wasn’t like they could exactly hide this from them. Be as bad as trying to stick their heads in the sand after all, pretending none of this was happening, and it was, it was all fucking happening whether they liked it or not. Vin had told him that he’d talked to Ava about going public with their relationship, and if Ava knew, then so did Talia, hiding this would be impossible, it was going to be everywhere.

Rick took in a breath as he saw Ava and Talia walk around the corner, it was the first time he’d seen Talia since the bathroom, and his neck tingled just at the sight of her, that smile, if it weren’t for the pit of dread feeling like nothing but doom wanting to eat him alive right now…

“I should go.”

“No!”

Ricky glanced over towards Vin as he came out of the office.

“We need to deal with this, Rick.”

“Deal with what?”

Ava was all smiles until Vinny looked over at her, it was then she got a good look at the expression on his face, and she saw just how stressed he was. It wasn’t Ava that spoke next, it was Talia, and she wasn’t looking at Vinny as she said it.

“What’s going on, what’s wrong?”

Rick looked over to her, his eyes narrow, what? What was her deal? She shouldn’t be looking at him with concern like that. The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, she confused him too damn much, and it just, everything with Grace, it was pushing him, and badly.

“What the fuck do you care?”

“Rick!’

Looking over to Vinny,

“You know it involves her too, Grace named her, and considering she connected her to Ava, it won't be long until the fans find her.. You need to tell your side, man. You need to tell them what Grace did. That SHE was the fake soulmate, not Talia.”

“Wait, what?”

Ava exclaim,

“I thought you guys were doing your live, what has Grace got to do about this?”

Just like that, suddenly everyone seemed to be talking at once, looking between the three of them she couldn’t quite keep up. Talia was so lost as she looked at the three of them, so lost.  From the sounds of it, there had been something planned that she hadn’t known about, something involving Vin and Ricky, which made her nervous, especially if Ava knew about it, but she didn’t. It also left a pit in her stomach because it made her wonder what else she was being left out of already in her friend's life, she knew she wasn’t as dialled in as she wanted her to be with this soulmate thing, but she’d still support her. She was here, wasn’t she? Why was she here, giving up her time, her work, her life, if it was just to be shuffled off to the side?

As she swallowed, she took in her breath, pushing that feeling aside, she was fine, it was okay, whatever was going on was so much more important than her, obviously. That was when her phone started to go off wildly with notifications for comments on some of her recent photos on her Instagram page, well, that was weird. Opening the first one, just one, and it was some chick cussing her out, with some carefully chosen language might she add, for being a homewrecker. What?

“Guy, GUYS, someone needs to slow down and start from the beginning as to what the hell has happened.. Because I’m being abused and called a homewrecker over here, and I’d really like to know why?”

Holding up her phone. She could guess why, and as much as she’d like to be proven wrong the looks on their faces told her she probably wasn’t. Talia would be willing to beg the universe that she was wrong, but the moment Vinny mentioned Grace before, Talia had gotten the worst feeling.

“Well, Vinny and I wanted to announce that we’re together, so he did an Instagram live, and he did it with Rick.”

Talia glanced at the man that she had been purposely trying not to, and failing not to think of since the party, and her tattoo tingled, the feeling dancing over her skin just from her glancing at him, twisting her fingers around her phone as it vibrated with even more notifications coming through. Shit.

“Okay, why would he need to do it with Rick?”

Her words were calm, and slow, as if she didn’t know the answer, but she wanted confirmation, she wanted to hear them say it since they’d decided to leave her out of something that had so blatantly involved her before now.

“I haven’t announced that I’m not with Grace yet, because it’s just, it’s been difficult.”

Alright, Talia nodded, shrugging slightly, that she understood, and she didn’t really blame him for it. Good news spread like wildfire, bad news hit like a lead pipe, and no one ever wanted to talk about it. Well, it would seem, an exception could be made if someone were famous and someone did a live claiming to expose their dirty secrets and lied through their teeth.

“Okay, so, wait, you told people you broke up with her in the live? You told them about me?”

“No! No no, soulmates weren’t mentioned with the breakup, the idea was that I’d talk about my breakup, and Vinny would go right into his news distracting everyone. It mostly worked, not quite, but mostly. Some people still commented on my page, but it was something, it was out there at least.”

He shrugged. That was not the problem, Talia looked between them warily,

“Okay, so, what went wrong?

“About an hour later, Grace did a live, and she spoke her version of events. How much do you know about the band's past with soulmates? How much do you know about Chris’ history with soulmates?”

Looking at Rick then as he asked, for once he didn’t sound like he was just going to spit hate at her, he was actually talking to her like a civil person this time, but that wasn’t what she was thinking about, she was thinking about some of what she knew of what Chris had gone through.

“I only know some of what Chris went through, I’m not one of those fans that go through your personal lives guys. He was stalked by a fake soulmate, he had a girlfriend, then he didn’t have a girlfriend, that's all I know. I’ve always tried to be hands-off.”

Looking at Ricky, she’d never wanted to be one of those creepy fans who became obsessed with them, not even when she figured out he was her soulmate. Anything she could have learned, she would have rather learned from them as people. There were times she read articles and still felt she violated their privacy with how they portrayed them.

He stared at her for a moment, well, shit. She definitely had more boundaries than most, a lot of fans loved reading everything they could get their hands on, and he wouldn’t judge them for it. The interviews they did for a reason.. It was the stalkers, and the people that wouldn’t leave them alone badgering them, that were a problem.

“Well, it gets a lot worse, but that is the basic layout, and Grace made it seem a lot like that, that you stalked me, pretended to be my soulmate, and I left her because I couldn’t handle it.”

Ricky, just as he spoke the words, felt a flare of heat through the skin of his tattoo, his eyes going a little wide because at the same moment that he felt it, the realisation hit him, Talia, despite looking away from him in obvious anger and frustration at what she was hearing, her hand had lifted to her neck, immediately to her tattoo. She was pressing her fingers to her soulmate tattoo, and when she did, that pain in his neck, shit, it reacted. The pain in his neck, it seemed to soothe.

Talia was just trying to breathe. She was just so angry, not at Rick, but at the whole situation. Okay, maybe a little at Rick, at Vinny, at Ava. They could have told her this was happening, they could have let her prepare herself at least a little emotionally for this starting. Sure, she didn’t think there was probably much she could have done aside from mentally prepare, maybe she could have locked her account, something.. But she would never know now. God, did she even want to check her profile for more comments? Damn.. how could they have not told her?! Right now it felt like she’d been hung out to dry and it made her, her, it actually made her angry, angry at not just Grace, but all of them too. Glancing away from all of them, she reached up to her neck, her tattoo surging painfully again.. Rubbing along the mark as covertly as she could.. Trying to make it look like she was just working out the stress kinks in her neck as she closed her eyes with a sigh. She didn’t need any of the others to know that this debacle, wasn’t the only insanity she was dealing with, but the one in her own head as well.

“Rick, you know I’m right, you have to say something, release a statement, a video, something.”

Vinny was speaking up, completely missing what Ricky was seeing, and Talia didn’t see him blinking a little at her either as she rubbed her neck at the sting of pain,

“Rick!”

His attention snapped back to Vinny,

“What?”

“We can’t let her get away with this, they’re already coming after Talia online.”

The problem was, it wasn’t Grace coming after her, it was their fans, if Grace came after her they could do something about it. Ricky could technically do something about it, legally, like get a restraining order. Then, like he said to Chris, he could claim Talia as his soulmate, and provide evidence of her stalking, and it would extend to her. However, the problem was, it wasn’t Grace, she had weaponized their fanbase, and they were attacking Talia for her.

“And me.”

Ricky looked over towards Ava who had her phone in her hand now, scrolling away. Vinny looking on in horror,

“What?!”

Talia’s voice had a tinge of outrage in her one-word outburst as she stepped towards Ava to see her phone, to look at the comments she was getting to. Rick barely held back the flinch at the much sharper sting through the tattoo this time, was she just angry, was the tattoo reacting to her strong emotions, or was it reacting because her emotions were aimed at him? Because if it was her emotions, why wasn’t it always reacting? Of course, now, now she had reason to be pissed at him, Grace was doing this to her, to Ava, because of him. He could do, he had to do, something.

“Fine. Fine, I’ll make a video statement. I’ll,”

He took in a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was going to do.

“I’ll tell my story about what she did to me.”

How she made a fool of him, and how she ruined how it felt for him to find his real soulmate. Glancing to Talia… well shit. Time to stop lying. He knew, and he hated it. He couldn’t be with her, because everything he felt now was just, it hurt. Furthermore, he looked at her, thinking about who she was, thinking about how perfect she probably would have been for him, and it was too fucking painful.

He didn’t just hate that she was his soulmate. He hated everything.

Shit, why did Chris have to be right?

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[gatheringfiki]

AUpocalypse 2024 - Start

Apologies, I have slightly missed my cue with this event, my own cue, but there was Easter and life ran away with me, as it has a habit of doing! So we're doing slightly amended dates of 06 - 30 April!

Calling all fans of AUs big and small! We would like to invite you to take part in our brand new event, which will hopefully whip up lots of wonderful new content featuring our two favourite rascals, but dumped into somebody else's shoes! Mayhem ensues, hopefully!

We are super-hyped for this one!

The ask:

Based on your favourite films/TV series/books/media, write (or draw/edit) at least 1 story (artwork/photoset) per week within each genre.

Post it on a Sat/Sun of that week, move onto the next one.

No sign ups necessary.

No word limits, minimal or maximum.

Usual pairings apply: any ficional characters portrayed by Dean or Aidan.

You can do more than one if you wish, but please stick to the allocated weeks.

If certain ideas spawn certain other ideas, as they do (I saw this edit that someone else made and now I wanna write it!) please feel free to collab, or just grab it and run with it, we're not precious

Tag #GF AUpocalypse 2024 for a reblog

If using AO3, post into this Collection.

The genres:

The Warmup Weekend: 6-7 April: Anything goes! (I'm so on fire, I just wanna braindump this idea!)

Week 1: 08 - 14 April: Drama, Action or Adventure

Week 2: 15 - 21 April: Historical, Fantasy or Sci-Fi

Week 3: 22 - 28 April: Comedy, Romance or Fairytale

The Late Bloomer Days: 29 - 30 April: Anything goes! (Whoops, I missed my cue, I'm just gonna post it now...)

Summary post will go up on the 4th of May!

Please reblog to help us spread the word - thank you :)

Any questions - please give us a shout! Otherwise, enjoy!

PSSSSST! Please also remember that there's a Deano Bingo going on throughout the month of April, so be sure to bag yourself a 2-for-1 event participation, stat! It's like a buy-one-get-one-free, but you do all the hard work ;) We've just re-blogged their event post.

~gatheringfiki

[jesskasb]

9 people you'd like to get to know better

heyyy thank you so much @nitw for the tag 🫶 i love to do these

three ships: sylvix fe3h (been crazy since 2019), metamy sth (mostly platonically but when it hits it hits), aaaaand. JUNEPEI 999 (they are yuri to me).

first ship ever: i was like 9 or 10 years old when this happened ok i obviously dont support shipping real people. my first ""ship"" were youtubers gona89 and sarinha ... the youtuber shipping craze hit the hispanic minecraft scene late and in a more lighthearted way so it was mostly shits and giggles but still

last song: El Gran Varón by Willie Colón !! was showing it to my roommate yesterday night while telling her my tragic backstory . #transgender

last movie: tmnt mutant mayhem ... i miss the turtles so bad

currently watching: penny snapcube vods, jacksepticeye, and some new smosh stuff. if youtube doesnt count ig ive been watching sonic x every once in a while!

currently reading: finishing up "the left hand of darkness" by ursula le guin for my scifi class 👍 very interesting stuff

currently consuming: banana 🍌

currently craving: this incredibly delicious chicken nugget sandwich im making myself

tagging: @moonpiesarah @mystic-dahlia @vincentspork @giselles-dumping-hat @rootbeerfloats @business-cannibal @rottingrobin @meteorherd and YOU dear reader . feel free to do this if you guys want !

[merryfortune]

Approach with Caution

August 18th: Free Day 

Title: Approach with Caution

Ship: Nail/Romin

Series: Yu-Gi-Oh! Sevens

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,270

Tags: Fluff, Confessions, Feelings Realisation, Ambiguous Ending

   As baffling and nonsensical as it was, Nail was of that certain age where he was thinking about the opposite sex. With much regret, of course. He had been so focused, so dedicated but now, he was scribbling love-hearts and names in his notebooks.

   Reflecting upon his life thus far, Nail had always been so lonely, so isolated, and he did not mind that one bit. He had more than enough with his toys, his hobbies, he didn’t need anyone else except for me, myself, and I. He had turned it into a point of pride. He was a human boy who was a machine who was a human boy. So for that facade to crack and for him to accept friendship into his once lonesome life, it was scary to transition from one identity to the next. 

   For that to evolve into fascination with girls, oh, Nail was humiliated. It was embarrassing, there was no other way to describe it. He, of all people, was reduced to a loverboy because of one Kirishima Romin.

   She was fierce and sassy, driven and determined, full of quirks and could prove to be quite unpredictable.

   She was everything that Nail disliked about humanity. The way they malfunctioned and caused dysfunction or mayhem. Romin was hot and cold based on her mood and her mood was based on what she had or hadn’t eaten recently. She got into hijinks all the same as their other friends and was never afraid to spearhead it either. That entropy was discordant like the metal music that she played and Nail disliked it heavily, or so he thought.

   After all, Romin was much more than her faults, varied and eclectic as they were.

   Romin embodied much of its beauty, too. Nail would concede that much, and perhaps even with a small smile on his face due to his crush. She was a well-decorated musician and for good reason, her understanding of the art was nothing less than prodigal given her age. RoaRomin’s music, for quite some time, had been just noise to Nail, bits and pieces that he could unpick like mathematics but ultimately not to his taste.

   Not anymore.

   Now he was scrying the lyrics for hidden meanings. He was linking together the themes and motifs to the instrumentals, keenly aware of Romin’s hand in the mix. Whether she was providing ideas, lyrics, or just her guitar work, it had Nail scrambling like a treasure hunter through the boundless interpretations of music. He felt insane as he made the switch from disinterest to utter obsession.

   All because he pined, he yearned, he… crushed on Kirishima Romin.

   Their interactions were few and far between, often fleeting. Nail was out of school and she still had to play by the bell. But when their paths did bisect, Nail was always amused. A little happier than he might have otherwise been. Seatbastian detected a difference in demeanour but never said anything - thank goodness. Maybe it was because human interaction was good for him, maybe not.

   The crew that Romin belonged to was a cantankerous and often bizarre bunch but hey, he was a part of it too and he was both those things as well. It felt good to belong. To have people he cared about. To have new interests opened up to him.

   He wouldn’t have thought of that alone.

   He would have stared at the walls, at the blank space and knew there was something missing. A puzzle piece that would be required to fill that slot. Unlike with Rush Duels and the Maximum Summon, the glaring obviousness was not apparent to Nail this time.

   How should he approach feelings as frantic as young love?

   Especially when his gratitude ought to begin at friendship, with Yuga, not just Romin but Luke and Gakuto also. Even Roa. They all became quite the ensemble together. Yuga opened that blank space and now, it appeared, music decorated much the same as vibrations decorated sound and paintings decorated space. 

   But the question still remained and the answer eluded him.

   Should Nail be forward? Should his words be heavy as weights and just as blunt: I like you? Or should he take inspiration from the more sleek poets before him. Mathematics and computer sciences were far different a language to that of conveying feelings and poetry. So, perhaps Nail ought to relay to Romin that the moon was beautiful tonight. Though it was daytime when he was scheduled to see her next so that wouldn’t work.

   Not to mention… From his observations… Nail had concluded that Romin was a hard-headed girl. He would have to look into her schooling records more closely to deduce if she knew what a metaphor was or that their usage could be applied outside of music. It genuinely seemed heads or tails for Nail…

   What would make for the best song? That weighed on Nail’s mind, too. They were both creatives but their spirits did not appear kindred when it came to their pursuits. Nail could code all sorts of things in honour of Romin, he could recreate her portrait using HTML as his ink and paintbrush, the rich text editor his canvas but what of her? She needed more than him and his words might just become the head-line lyrics of her next album if he wasn’t careful. He would also appreciate if said lyrics were flattering rather than slandering so that added yet another layer to all the considerations that Nail had to be mindful of.

   With so much to take into account, at the end of all his thought, it was not a true answer which Nail came to as he pondered each word for clarity to carry his feelings but it was an answer. If he wanted to let Romin know he felt, he ought to approach with caution. What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if she did? Either result terrified Nail as he couldn’t predict her outcomes the way he could predict the outcomes of RNG in a Master Duel.

   Either way, the day in which they would cross paths came about before Nail could perfect his speech. His resolve was hardened as he sweated in the sun, arriving earlier than anyone else just so he could hazard some one-one-one time with Romin.

   She waited in the park, in the shade of the tree but the leftward slant of a sunbeam illuminated her regardless. She looked as rock and roll as ever, with tinsel town hair of magenta and greeted him, turning around and her skirt fluttered around the bulk of her ever present guitar case.

   “Hey, what’s up?” Romin asked, she batted her eyelashes at him as she greeted him, her hand thrown up in a casual hello.

   Nail could feel his knees knock and his tongue tie. He had never felt this way before. She was just a tween age girl, there was no reason for Nail to feel as though he were staring down the jaws of a tiger and yet, as friendly as Romin was, he felt as though he were in mortal danger as he heeded his previous revelations. He really ought to approach with caution. Enunciate clearly, be on guard, and allowed for whatever happens, to happen.

   “Yes. Good.” Nail replied. “If you could spare a moment of your time, however, I have something I want to ask you.” His teeth chattered.

   “Yeah, sure, now’s a good time, what do you need?” 

   Nail took a breath and he let his preparations meet his hormones and together, they took over his mouth in confession.

[ecosystem-administrator]

WIP W-hat day is it?

Thanks for the tag, @anneapocalypse!

I'm not tagging anyone, because I am tired and congested today and don't feel like doing the work, but I am going to demand that if you, dear reader, see this and decide to post something, you tag me in it so I don't miss it.

The thing I've done the most work on lately is an outline for Mayhem's early days in ARR, but there's no actual writing done in that yet, just section summaries placeholdering what I mean to write. Here's a picture:

So instead, I'm going to offer up a bit of current Mayhem content, a bare-bones explanation of what they've been doing in the downtime between Endwalker and Dawntrail.

-

“I want you to help me write a paper.”

G’raha’s interest was piqued immediately. “Tell me more, dearest, and I will be only too glad to help.”

“See, I have a theory.” This was even more interesting. “I think the reason my songs work to help in battle is because I’m harnessing dynamis. These arts were nearly lost before, and it was because the bards singing the songs lost sight of the emotion that was supposed to drive them. An understanding of dynamis might have prevented it from happening in the first place.”

“It’s certainly plausible." G'raha nodded eagerly. "You sound well on your way, love - what exactly do you need help with? I can't claim to be a more capable writer than you yourself are.”

“I’m a capable storyteller.” Mayhem seemed frustrated. “But I don’t know how to explain what I do to researchers. They’re going to want a little more than a poetic description of what it feels like to sing with true emotion.”

[randomartz]

My notes on mutant mayhem !!!

If ur inclined (hopefully I tagged it well to avoid spoilers for folks who don’t want them )

XxxxxxxX

Everyone was characterized very well

Particularly Leo and Splinter

Thought it was interesting they made Leo have a crush instead of Donnie. Fresh take!

Love the brother razzing

They relied a lot on modern day references for dialogue which will date it BUT it is how kids talk and it didn’t feel as forced as it could have AND if they’ve only experienced dialogue through their phones/TikTok it makes perfect sense

Love that they share a room and have their own lil pods 🥹

Loved Paul Rudd

I also loved all the character design!!! The organic shapes reminded me a lot of Paranorman which you know I Love

Lovedddd Leatherhead is a Ladyyyyo

I was truly just soaking in the animation!!!! I will forever be indebted to Sony Animation who changed the game after spiderverse thank you so MUCH FOR THE FOOD YUM YUM YUM

Their longing looks when they were watching the movie KILT ME

Dr Utrom was a good nod and a potential plot pointttt

The Laird and Eastman High were excellent Easter eggs

Glad they didn’t make Leo a stick in the mud; very much a kid struggling with responsibility and also being a kid

and they were so GIDDY after they met April and were walking home omg

Splinter was a hoot love him sm he loves his boys !!!!! I also think they maybe did a nod to a couple of live Jackie Chan action moves in his fight but I could be wrong

When he broke his leg I think that was a missed opportunity to introduce his Iconic Cane

Love love love when Splinter fights

They were so excited when they won the fight in the garage!!!!

I’m also low key pleased April puked Just a Bit on the news to show that she’s still nervous lol

Bittersweet they lost their masks when they went to school

Liked the set up for the Shredder. I wonder what the Foot will look/act like

When will my man Agent Bishop get the theatrical debut he deserves !!!!!!