#thomas once told him he can have cake for dinner and nothing else and the little guy just clapped emotionless

[bruciemilf]

I like to think that Tiny Baby Bruce used to just stare whenever he was required to "socialize." Unfortunately, he ended looking like a possessed doll. They tried to teach him to smile, and oh god, it's so much worse somehow. Murder baby. He looks like a murder baby

All I could think of was this

[peakyblindas]

Pride.

Ages ago I made a poll asking what people wanted and the result was a older Fawn and Tommy, so here it is, Its fun writing them older when they have a mutual respect for each other but there's a whisper of something else.( @evita-shelby I'm sorry this took so long :P)

Throwing the twins, Enola and Julius a birthday party, had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she had forgotten just how many children her extended family had.

The stables was the only peaceful place, it was too cold to sit in the garden.

Inside, amongst the hay and horseshoes, Galahad, her daughter Melody’s most prized possession, a brown horse with a jet black mane, was happily chewing on hay, fed to him by the hand of Thomas Shelby.

“Tommy..” Fawn was surprised to see him here, he had turned up to the party with a doll for Enola and a teddy bear for Julius, he had made polite conversation with his ex-wife and then disappeared, she had assumed he had gone home, but now she knew different. “I thought you’d left.”

“Without saying goodbye?” Tommy shrugged, “I was waiting until the cake was cut.”

“I hope there’s enough for everyone…bastard thing cost me an arm and a leg.”

“I knew all the stories about you being an idyllic house wife were made up…” Tommy stroked Galahad’s mane “You hate all this entertaining.” 

“A children’s party is nothing, at least I can slip away from that..” Fawn sighed and walked over to the horse “The dinner parties are the worst.”

“Ah yes, Dot told me about your charity, I’m surprised you haven’t asked me for a donation.”

“ I would’ve thought that Thomas Shelby, MBE has his own philanthropy to see too.”

Tommy chuckled and stepped back from Galahad, turning his full attention to Fawn, it was no secret that their once extremely close relationship had grown distant, her marriage and his divorce had not done anything to help matters.

Once upon a time, she had dreamt of a large house, a large family and Tommy as her husband, but things had changed, that dream was gone, it was nothing but the fantasies of a girl in love for the first time.

Yet she did regret the way things had turned out, Tommy was still important to her, they shared a daughter, they would be connected to each other forever whether they liked it or not. 

“I have enough good will to share.”

Tommy pulled a silver cigarette case from his pocket and opened it, he offered one to Fawn, she took it

“Imagine if our sixteen year old selves could see us now, eh?” 

He lit her cigarette, then did the same himself the flame reflected in his glasses hiding his eyes from view, he inhaled, then exhaled as he spoke

“I don’t think young Fi would’ve expected to have kids named Enola and fuckin’ Julius thats for sure.”

Fawn laughed “It's a family name, Matt wanted to pass it down.”  She took a long drag of her cigarette “I named Theodore, so it was only fair that Matt named the twins.” 

“Of course Matthew is to blame.”

Fawn rolled her eyes, Tommy and Matt did not like each other and showed it, Tommy thought Matt was a rich twat who had no idea what the real world was like and Matt thought Tommy was a common thug.

“Is there blame to be had? I think Julius is a good name..” She exhaled smoke, it flowed through the air like a ghost “Caesar for example.”

“Who is famous for being murdered.” 

“Among being a great ruler of Rome.” She glared in his direction “Your son is named Charles, King Charles is known for having his head chopped off.”

“Charlie is named after Uncle Charlie, you know that.”

“And Julius is named after Matt.”

A silence filled the stable, Tommy leaned against a stack of hay, strands falling on to his woolen coat, expensive no doubt, Tommy enjoyed the finer things in life now.

“I’m proud of you, Fi.” 

Fawn choked on smoke, it came out in a cough “Pardon?” 

“I’m proud of you…you have a nice house, beautiful kids, and as much as it pains me to say it, an alright husband.”  

She went so speak but he silenced her with a raised finger, she obeyed, like a trained dog.

“I think back to when we were kids…running around small heath barefoot…”

“Swimming in the canal in the summer…” She smiled at the memories, they were a lifetime ago “Climbing the bridge..”

He smiled, quickly, before it turned sad, Tommy was often sad these days.

“Having to catch cats…stealing bread from the bakers..” 

“Going hungry because Ada needed the food more.”

Those memories were ice around her heart, there was no rose tint to remembering the day her Mother died, how she had to scrape and steal. Her mouth went dry, the silence hung between them again.

“Our kids won’t ever have to live like that, That's something, eh?” Her voice was quiet, ghosts clinging to her words.

“If there’s a God our kids won’t end up a fuckin’ thing like us.” 

“Here’s hoping.”

They met eyes again, and Tommy smiled, his eyes were cold, frozen ice.

Once upon a time she would have thawed them, she knew it was nothing personal, for Tommy to still be alive he had to build up a wall, a wall so thick nothing could break it down.

“I’ll be heading back, Get me that cake.”

She smiled back, she loved him once, more than she loved life itself, she’d have died for him if he asked, she had killed for him, it stained her soul and hands, it would never fade, no matter how hard she scrubbed, even if her flesh bled. 

Matt healed a part of her, she loved him, he didn’t ask anything of her.

She watched Tommy leave, his coat trailing behind him, like the reaper’s cloak.

She wondered if he still heard pickaxes chipping away at the bedroom walls, if even his expensive oak panels couldn’t keep out the sound that haunted him for most of his adult life.

She decided that she didn’t care, she threw her cigarette butt into a bucket half full of grimey water.

Her children were inside waiting for her, she had no time to chase after Thomas Shelby and try to break down his walls, he’d shown long ago that she was not welcome inside them.

[clearlynotjanus]

Loceit Appreciation Week: Day Four, Debate

READ ON AO3

Chapter Summary: Tired of the neglect he experiences at the hands of staunch Morality, when Janus is sent to the Dark Side, Logan attempts to follow some years later. CW: Food mention, Moceit fight Word Count: 3448 Genre: Gen, Hurt/comfort Rating: Gen Ships: Platonic Loceit

taglist: @sanderssidesangsttrash​​​ @catalinaacosta​​​ @whatishappeningrightnow​​​ @anxiousbean4404​​​ @vexelore​​​ @the-dead-and-the-decaying​​​ @serpentinesomebody​​​ @poptartsaysurloved​​​ @robertdownerjr​​​ @dangitsbrightinhere​​​ @iamuncomffy​​​ @sanderdarksides​​​ @evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn​​​ @dragonfander @virgilstarantula​​​ @a-rudethude @indubitably-emo @gay-artist-626​​​ @cosplayhanna​​​ @edupunkn00b​​​ @wouldntyou-liketoknow​​​ @awesomerandomgirl1​​​ @rizzyluke​​​ @sevencrashing​​​ @all-panic-nodisco​​​​ ​​​

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Though Logic and Self Preservation never had the chance to spend very much time together before the older boy’s disappearance, the conversations they did have were constructive, engaging, and supportive. Which was quite the opposite of what the others had to offer as the years dragged on. During the six that followed the unfortunate event, Logic found himself dismissed and belittled at every turn. Eight years old at the time, he didn’t exactly understand what had happened to his friend. It was confusing, and no one seemed willing to talk about it. The other Creativity mourned like Self Preservation was dead. Fear didn’t seem to notice. Morality cringed whenever Logic brought it up. He didn’t understand.

Time went on well enough then. Eight years old turned into nine, then ten, then eleven; then Fear morphed into Anxiety and the other Creativity disappeared. Even Logic could have called that one -- and he had. If only Morality listened to him and his advocating for the curly haired Creativity’s ideas. If only Fear had let him help more instead of jumping to improbable conclusions. All of it was a shame and it made Logic’s stomach hurt. He had liked that Creativity.

Eleven, twelve, and thirteen passed; then Anxiety disappeared as well, giving Logic a foreboding sense of loneliness. He didn't get along perfectly with Anxiety, but still. It felt like the Sides were dropping like flies. At this rate, Thomas would be more Dark than Light, Creativity said. Morality told them that was nonsense; as long as they three stayed good, Thomas would be fine. But Logic couldn’t help thinking this one was more his fault than the last. Perhaps if he had better communicated reality to Anxiety, things could’ve been different. Morality assured him it had nothing to do with anything like that; Anxiety just couldn’t be worked with. That didn’t sound right.

Through the beginning of his teenage years, the dismissal deepened. Too young, too inexperienced, too angry, too serious, too silly. No matter what Logic did, he couldn’t get through to them -- especially Morality, who seemed adamant that he had no idea what he was doing yet. The arguments ranged from petty to serious. No, Logic would say, Thomas can’t afford another Lego set, Morality, he has to save for textbooks next semester. No, Thomas shouldn’t have extra dessert just because he did his laundry today; he just had cake yesterday and God knows why. Irresponsibility began to overwhelm Thomas as he indulged in his Feelings more. He daydreamed a more fulfilling life, as he’d have himself convinced, through Creativity’s delusions. Logic was never considered. In fact, Logic was bad for insinuating everyone else was wrong.

At fourteen, Logic had had enough. One morning he woke up and decided he didn’t belong with the others -- with Creativity and Morality. He belonged with Self Preservation and the other Creativity. The one that he liked and the older boy who had always listened to him. The thought of enduring another day of disagreements and neglect dried his throat, so as the sun rose, he sunk out.

The Dark Side was, well, dark. Logic didn’t know what he expected but couldn’t find it in him to be surprised. He went to turn on the living room light but curiously found the switch already flipped, the bulb already illuminated. He went to open the blinds and found them already drawn. Rather than foreboding, as Self Preservation found it upon his initial arrival all those years ago, Logic found it fascinating. Not fascinating enough to keep his stomach growling though. Were the others already awake? Did they not have breakfast over here? Perhaps he was just early.

Unceremoniously, Logic grabbed himself a bowl, a box of cereal, and milk from the fridge to construct his breakfast -- a task Morality had always insisted he do for Logic until recently, when he spitefully went a full month of refusing to eat anything Morality made him. He was old enough to make his own breakfasts and lunches, thank you very much. 

“You’re up early,” A voice followed the sound of footsteps down the stairs. “Are you making breakfast for once, Vir--” Janus’ words and feet came to an abrupt end when he reached the bottom landing and his eyes rested on Logan; the teen was small but bigger than Janus remembered, bigger than he was the last time they had spoken for sure. He did the mental math quickly -- it’d been six years since he left the Light Side, Logan had been about eight at the time and had always been six years Janus’ junior; so the boy was fourteen. Logan’s back was ramrod straight at their table as he mindlessly sucked Cheerios off a spoon. Across the room, the television droned the news, but Janus was unable to hear it due to the ringing that pierced his ears.

“Good morning, Self Preservation,” Logan greeted after he swallowed, as casually as anything despite his stare that lasted a second too long. He noted the shine on one half of Janus’ face; the way one pupil had slit and changed colors. Fascinating -- but was he okay? He seemed okay at least.

“Self Preservation?” Janus said with a mask of amused absurdity. “When I left I was Prezzi.” The conversation was good, distracting enough to quell his panic as he glanced up the stairs again. Logic’s room hadn’t appeared -- or perhaps he had missed it?

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you still liked being called that,” Logan explained down at his cereal and Janus felt his heart breaking.

“Of course I do,” His brows knitted earnestly at the boy, a hand clutching his collar as though it choked him. Again he glanced up the stairs. “If you’re alright,” Janus took a step back, “For just a moment. I’ve forgotten something, I’ll--”

“My room isn’t here,” Logan’s voice edged with annoyance as he clinked his spoon against the bowl. “I tried everything and it just wouldn’t move,” He mumbled as he aggressively stabbed a Cheerio.

“You tried to make it move?” Janus’ voice gained a shrillness. He couldn’t believe the boy’s audaciousness! “Logan,” He reprimanded sternly but to no avail. The boy continued to sluice quiet mayhem through his cereal and Janus was at a loss. 

He glanced up the stairs a final time. It was early, Virgil wouldn’t come out of his room for a couple hours at least, if he did at all that day. His mind quietly asked what Remus would be doing, forgetting for a moment in the emotional chaos that he had run away to the Imagination months ago. Janus sighed and crossed the room.

“So,” He said in a decidedly conversational tone as he sat down at the table. “Anything interesting happening today?” He gestured at the television and Logan shrugged. Janus frowned. The topic of why he was here would have to be breached eventually, but as long as the Subconscious was refusing to move Logan’s room, Janus didn’t think it was an emergency. What was an emergency, however, was the poor boy’s emotional state.

“Do you want more cereal?” Janus offered quietly as he eyed the nearly empty bowl. Surely the Cheerios that were left were too soggy to be enjoyed at this point.

“I can get it myself,” Logan nearly spat with a venom Janus hadn’t heard from him yet. His brows raised, both concerned and entertained. 

The Logic he knew would never use such a tone, the contrast was almost funny. Though Logan hadn’t changed completely he noticed; Janus had several memories of Logan insisting he could do something himself. From climbing on counters for scissors he definitely shouldn’t have been using, to pulling bookshelves down instead of asking one of the older Sides to get a book for him, to stubbornly using the side of his fork with both hands to cut a piece of chicken when he would refuse help with dinner. But it would all be done with apologies and explanations, assurances that he’d be safer next time, growing understanding that though his mind was large, he was still small.

“Logan,” Janus said patiently, the humor in his expression dissolving to reveal patience and worry. The boy grit his teeth and continued to glare narrow eyes down at his cereal bowl. “Why did you come here?” Janus asked softly, leaning forward to try and meet Logan’s eyes. 

Then Logan remembered that in the short time they had been on the same side of the Mindscape together, Self Preservation had always listened to him. He had always been there to turn to when the others ignored him. Remembering this made his anger ebb away, though with that, the sadness he had been trying to ignore washed ashore. The hardness in his expression softened, but he still refused to look up.

“Morality and Creativity don’t listen to me,” Logan admitted quietly and shame filled his stomach, colliding with his breakfast in a way that made him nauseous. “I’ve tried everything but Morality always says I’m too young to tell him what to do,” His brow twitched and Janus watched as his sad expression morphed back into something more callous. 

The sight hurt his heart, but mostly it made anger warm his chest. What on earth was Patton doing? The root of all their issues so far had been a distinct lack of listening. From fighting with Janus over developing moral stances, to stubbornly refusing to consider nuance in the pursuit of art and self expression, to the apathetic dismissal of welling fear and anxiety as adulthood approached -- was there anyone Patton listened to? 

“So you came here,” Janus sighed, attempting and somewhat failing to keep the rage out of his tone. “Because I had always listened to you,” He guessed but then Logan shrugged and shook his head.

“Sort of,” He replied and Janus blinked curiously. Had he missed something? “Mostly I just assumed this is where we came when Patton hated us.”

The straightforward words punched Janus in the gut, knocking the wind out of him like he had just unexpectedly stepped off a building and was now free falling with panicked arms that reached for anything to hold on to. As usual, Logic’s assessment wasn’t incorrect. In a way, this was where the Sides Morality didn’t like ended up; but it was deeper than that. At least Janus had to hope it was deeper than that, or else he’d never find it in himself to forgive his closest friend. Janus swallowed his hurt and sat up, shoving his shaking hands under the table. It wasn’t Logan’s fault and he wouldn’t hold the injury against him, though he did need a moment for a deep breath before he was able to find his voice again.

“Patton doesn’t hate you,” Janus reassured baselessly on reflex, but then he stopped. He couldn’t think of anything else to say that wasn’t just blatantly lying -- which, of course, he had no issues with, but it was a sad realization, nevertheless. 

“Then why doesn’t he listen to me?” Logan asked as Janus faltered. “Why did he send you and Anxiety and Remus away?” He looked around the shadowed room as he spoke before meeting Janus’ eyes again. “Creativity calls this the Dark Side which implies that he and Morality make up some sort of Lighter half,” Janus’ hands became unsteady once more as Logan continued asking questions he didn’t necessarily have answers to. At least no answers he wanted to admit. “But if they’re just going to keep dismissing me, then I don’t want any part in that,” He said decisively and pushed his cereal bowl away like it contained the subject matter. “If being a Dark Side means being listened to, then that’s what I’ll be.”

“No, you won’t,” Janus said much harder than he meant to, making Logan’s eyes shoot up. “You’re going back,” he said resolutely, leaving no room for misinterpretation in his tone. Logan opened his mouth but then Janus stood, the chair squeaking loudly against the floor. “If Patton did actually hate you as he does myself and the others, your room would be here,” Janus pointed out, flaring his own heartache with the presumed fact. Logan frowned angrily and balled a fist on the table.

“I’ll just sleep on the couch then.”

“No. You won’t.” 

“Fine, I’ll sleep in Remus’ room. He’s used to sharing.”

“This isn’t a debate, Logan, you’re going back.” Janus said evenly, without raising his voice, which somehow made the seriousness in his tone and the steel in his eyes even more intimidating.

In the glaring silence of Logan frantically trying to think of more argument points, Janus’ phone vibrated in his pocket. With a short and aggravated huff, he fished the object out and rolled his eyes at the displayed message.

[SMS From: Patton]

PLEASE tell me Logan isn’t with you

“Well,” Janus sighed, “It seems we’re both in trouble now.”

[SMS Re: Patton]

Oh no, not at all. Whyever would you think that

“That’s Morality, isn’t it,” Logan guessed, looking miserably down at the table. He didn’t want to think about what Morality was saying.

“Yes,” Janus confirmed as he ignored the message that popped up almost immediately. Shoving the phone into his pocket, he sat back down quietly.

Logan was smart, far too smart for his age which is why everything was very difficult for him. Morality was childish and couldn’t see past the fact that Logan was the youngest. Even so, it wasn’t as if he was an actual child. He was the manifestation of Thomas’ Logic; undeveloped, easily frustrated, overwhelmed by his Feelings and in desperate need of acknowledgement for simply trying his best. But even when Janus would convey it to Patton in that way, there was no getting to him. 

The fear that Logic would be cast aside and hidden away in this Darkness along with him was real, however. If that were to happen, Thomas would be in a very dangerous situation. It was terrifying enough that his natural Fight or Flight was already over here -- that his very will to live was as well. Janus didn’t want to think about what metamorphosis Logic would go through in that process. From Fear to Anxiety, now to Paranoia; watching Virgil suffer was already more than enough heartache for him, which wasn’t even to mention what was happening to Remus.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so angry at you, Logan,” Janus spoke softly, folding his hands on the table. He watched with a frown as Logan continued staring down. “But I really need you to understand that this is no place for you.” He leaned forward, trying to meet Logan’s eyes again, to no avail. “I know it’s hard, I know Patton doesn’t listen, but you have to keep trying,” Janus’ tone and expression were beseeching and genuine, his brow creased with a deep worry he didn’t have words for. “You have to promise me that you’ll keep trying,” Logan looked up, defiance and confusion hardening his eyes. He opened his mouth but Janus continued. “You have to. Even when you don’t want to. Even when the others don’t want you to. You have to, for Thomas.”

Logan stared at him, confusion slowly overtaking his rebellion. Janus looked…sincere and earnest, but he didn’t understand why. What was the point of arguing with Morality and Creativity if they would never listen? What was the point of going back when even Self Preservation knew he’d always be dismissed? It sounded exhausting. At fourteen, Logan was already so tired of it. But there was something in Janus’ eyes that convinced him to stop fighting; something that told him there was more he just didn’t understand yet. If that were true, if that were ever true, he’d believe it coming from the Side in front of him now and him, alone.

“Okay,” Logan sighed and Janus smiled in relief. 

“Good,” He nodded at the bowl as he sat back in his chair again. “You can finish up your breakfast but then--”

“There you are!” Patton’s voice, coming from behind Janus, stopped his words dead in their tracks. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, kiddo!” 

“Morality,” Logan said, the word easily mistaken for a greeting. The boy glanced between Patton and Janus, the latter having lined his lips in a pensive, unhumored smile. 

“Whatcha doin’ over here, bud?” Patton asked as he approached the table. Janus rolled his eyes and leaned as far away in his chair as he could manage. 

Watching Janus’ reactions to Morality, Logan felt equally annoyed; both at the fact that Morality came here to get him, and also for how interrupted their conversation had become.

“Eating,” Logan said curtly, reaching for his cereal bowl.

“Well you know we have plenty of cereal in our kitchen, so why don’t you come on back and I’ll pour you some!” 

Patton’s positivity grated Janus like sandpaper. Years of assumptions and miscommunications soured his stomach. His body reacted to Morality like something toxic.

“Maybe he prefers the cereal over here,” Janus mumbled sarcastically and Patton bristled as though he had honestly expected Janus to stay silent this entire exchange. 

Logan bit his tongue to keep the appeased smile off his lips but his interest bubbled over. No Side had gotten under Patton’s skin like that since Anxiety was sent away. It was almost a missed sight.

“He wouldn’t know what the cereal over here was like unless someone made him try it,” Patton not-so-subtly accused as he reached for Logan’s wrist.

Logan refused at first, pulling with half strength against Patton’s grip. “I’m perfectly capable of pouring cereal myself, Morality,” He mumbled as he met Janus’ eyes. His sardonic and cynical expression seemed to say, it’d be easier to just go along with him I guess, much to Logan’s dismay. “But fine,” He sighed and let himself be pulled to stand, though he immediately shook off Patton’s hand. 

“Thank you,” Patton gloated as he turned to leave and Janus all but groaned out loud. 

Logan paused. The moral superiority that rolled off Patton was familiar, but at the same time something new against the kindness Janus had shown him. He could easily see why they didn’t get along; their methods were very different. Morality was overbearing, insistent, stubborn, rigid, and often narrow minded. Having developed from Thomas’ Feelings, Patton was silly, immature, and hard to take seriously. Self Preservation was the opposite somehow; smart, clever, flexible, nuanced, and able to see the whole picture with ease. Janus was sarcastic, mature, and deathly serious when need be as a result. Comparing them, it was easy to see why Logic had an easier time getting along with Self Preservation, and why it was pointless to hope that would ever change.

“I’m not doing this because you convinced me to,” Logan told Patton as he trailed after.

Patton turned to blink at Logan, looking mostly confused with a hint of offense. “Of course not,” He saved face, “You’re coming back because over there is where you belong.”

“No,” Logan said slowly, glancing behind himself at Janus, who stayed sitting facing away from them. “I’m doing this because Thomas needs me,” He informed Patton as he began to sink out. “And because you and Creativity would be hopeless by yourselves.”

Janus snickered, covering the sound with a cough into his hand.

“My word, Logan sure has developed quite the backbone while I’ve been gone,” Janus snarked once he and Patton were alone.

“What did you say to him?” Patton accused, his tone somewhere between antagonistic and wounded. 

“Why, nothing of course,” Janus mocked and Patton’s eyes narrowed. “We just bonded over our mutual dismissal, is all.”

“I don’t dismiss him!” Patton sputtered and Janus snorted. A tense silence rose before Patton continued. “Anyway, you shouldn’t be talking to him.”

Janus stood finally and turned to face Patton, his brows raised. “And why’s that?” 

“Because you’re gonna i-influence him or something! Like you did with Remus and then Logan will be over here too!” Patton stuttered and Janus scowled.

“Oh please, you know I’m the only reason he went back so willingly,” Janus waved a limp hand. “Though I doubt he’ll try this again anytime soon, so you don’t have to worry your simple little head about it, darling.”

“Well, good.” Patton finished, glowering at Janus’ smirk. He hated that expression. Why was Janus happy about them fighting? It certainly didn’t make Patton happy. He was anything but having to face him like this. Without much more to say, he sank out as Janus offered a caustic wave of his fingers.

“Good riddance.”

Chapter Three || Chapter Five Part One / Part Two

[tomdiddlyumptious]

Tom Holland x zendaya cousin reader where she’s an actress and model /activist she meets Tom on set and reader and z talk about people forcing them to be in competition with each other and people saying z is better because she’s lighter ( colorism) and reader thinks Tom likes white blondes but nope (spoiler ) z Tom and reader start hanging out besides being on set Tom and reader get close they go out to a party and reader and Tom hookup smut (like rough👀)

OOP-

Warnings: SMUT- It wasn’t soft ik that, zaddy kink just for a bit, speaking Spanish on accident because I know how to speak it, and uh crippled walking? Overstimulation, squirt and shit (DONT TAKE THE SHIT LITTERALLY) and language of course ✨

Summary: REEEEEEEEEE-

A/n: god my life is so tragic, and yes I love pink guy 🤺GET BACK🤺 GET BACK I SAY 🤺 this isn’t in bold or anything because I was working on this for toooo long honestly it was requested a while ago, sorry about that!

T.H| I Seen all your exes, I know what you like

You walked after zendaya into the set, your hair into a ponytail, edges laid, you recently got yourself a nose peircing (I just wanted to) you dressed in a large oversized white sweater and some black sweat pants, normal black air forces, you were tired because school was kicking your ass, like forereal.

“Hey Tom!” Zendaya smiled, walking faster to him and hugging him tightly. “Hey z” he smiles back, squeezing her a bit. “This is my uh, cousin, y/n” Zendaya smiled at you and you yawned again, covering your mouth but waving at him, which he gave a tight lipped smile and let out a “hey, how are you” “tired. Bored. Emotionally numb. Mixed feelings, over caked up-“ “haha, I think he gets it” Zendaya cut you off with a wide smile. “Are you playing in the movie?” Tom asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think so” you shrugged. “She’s the real life MJ, don’t mind her, but we are gonna like go now, bye-Tom!” She pulled your arm until you found her trailer.

“What’s up with you!” Zendaya asked as she put her hands on her hips, watching you sit down on her bed. “I HATE SCHOOOOOOL” you complained, throwing your head on her bed as you tried not to cry. “You aren’t crying right now, y/n please don’t” Zendaya rolled her eyes.

“They expect me to know this shit! I barely even know what 2+2 is!” You lifted your head as tears left your eyes, crying. “Y/n, what’s 2+2?” She asked. “Fourrrr” you whined, still crying. “It’s social distance, like cheat or something!” Zendaya said as she mentally started to cackle watching your cry, you sucked your tears up in an instant, acting like you were perfectly fine and took out your laptop...only to cry again.

“I HATE SCHOOOOOOOOLLLL, WHY OUT OF EVERYONE I HAVE TO DO ITTTTTT!” you slapped the computer, zendaya couldn’t take it, she laughed at you. “AND YOUR LAUGHINGGG, IM IN AN EMOTIONAL CRISIS RIGHT KNOW” she started cackling, gasping for air as tears ran down your face. “BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA” “ZENDAYAAAAAA-“ your voice cracked, coughing on your spit as she just kept laughing, she was on the floor now, holding her stomach.

As you let out a broken scream the door opened, revealing Tom worried, but his face turns confused. “Do I want to know?” He gently asked. “Get outttttt” you whined pointing at the door. Tom smiled and nodded his head, closing the door. You wiped your tears away, sniffling like a child as zendaya just watched, a grin plastered in her face. “Shut up zendaya- I’m hurt” you said petty, crossing your arms as she let out a ‘pffft’ and continued to laugh.

It was about 2 days later, you felt better with jacobs help, he can really do math.

You sat in the chair sighing as you looked at your phone. “Fucking Enews, I’m gonna kill them one day” zendaya groaned, plopping herself in the chair next to you. “What happened?” You asked, the only ones in the room, it was like a hangout spot or something, hard to explain use your imagination

“They like to put us against each other and it’s toxic” zendaya hands you the phone, showing you on tone left and her on the right and “zendaya vs y/n” you only cringe at it “they want people to vote?” You asked and she nodded, you voted for yourself and handed her back the phone. “Forget you” she rolled her eyes, “nope if anything I’m winning” you shrug laughing at her while she tries to snatch your phone.

“It’s only fair!” She said, grabbing your phone and somehow knowing your code, standing up and running with your phone “JUST DONT TYPE IN X!” You yell, chasing her. “Oh I’m typing in x” she whispered, now joining where everyone else was, it was to fast to tell who but you seen Tom, you ran past him and his screen showed a model, blond but you couldn’t see anything else. Your mind was racing as you went full on devil an crybaby running, once you chased her she threw herself on the couch, sighing and laying your phone on her stomach.

“Fuck you” you whispered and she laughed, you grabbed your phone and saw “you voted for me!” You gasped. “What! No I didn’t!” She said, immediately sitting up and raising her eyebrows at you, you showed her your phone, laughing in her face as you tried to do the dougie. “Oh so you wanna get competitive?” She asked, crossing her arms. “I mean I’m in the lead” you shrugged. “Whoever loses has to buy lunch!” Zendaya said, standing up and running past you back to where everyone else was, you followed her while she said “VOTE ZENDAYA!” you shouted your own name and told people to vote you and they didn’t understand until they all got a notification.

Everyone voted and you sat next to Tom, begging him to tell you who he chose. “No y/n I won’t tell you” he smiled. “Pleaseeee!” You clasped your hands together giving him the best puppy eyes you could, he glared at you and showed you his phone. “I give up” on the screen it showed “you haven’t even voted yet!” You said, about to tap your name until he pulled his phone back. “Nope”

The rally went on for hours, it went from zendaya to you, to you to zendaya, zendaya was in the lead by point two percent. “THOMAS VOTE!” Laura shouted. “Alright alright!” He said, he heasitantly tapped a name, he chose it on purpose of course and it was nice for him to be the last person to vote.

Everyone’s phoned dinged by Enews. “ILL TELL EVERYONE!” Samuel shouted, everyone sat in seats watched him, phones turned off. This was absolutely giant for you and zendaya, this was a playful competition so don’t worry about putting each other down.

“The person who won is.....” he added suspense on everyone, aching for the answer already. He sighed and cleared his throat, then swallowed.

....

.....

Almost there!

.......it’s

Oop-

“The winner is y/n!” Everyone who voted for you cheered while everyone who voted for zendaya booed. You and zendaya both laughed together, giving each other a hug. “You owe me pizza” she only shrugged and agreed. “Wait...who did Tom vote?” Jacob asked, everyone now eyeing him, his eyes went wide. “You’ll never know” he only said. “Tell us! The game is over!” “Tell us!” Was chanted as his face started to turn a bit red. “ALRIGHT! I VOTED-“

who did he vote? Idk

Oof

This is a long ass story

Not anywhere near finished yet so stick with me here

I LOVE YOU KRITI

“Y/N” everyone cheered and congratulated you, zendaya asking if you wanted to go get the pizza now, you agreed and asked anyone else if they wanted to go, Jacob and Tom said yeah and you all went, you ordered a noarmal pizza and bought zendaya one to, you really didn’t want to take her money, Tom scrolled through the comments of the Enews post and saw how many people actually didn’t like you which is absolute bullshit, comments about your skin and how you act, his blood was slightly boiling, it isn’t right because they don’t even know you, who gives them the right to talk shit about you?

As the days passed you and Thomas hung out a lot, went to dinner a couple times whiteout anyone else, then had lunch, went shopping, you guys just did a lot of shit together which was cute, you guys got matching socks, shirts, jeans, hair clips and hats, calling your selves idiots and thing number one and number two, you, Tom, daya, haz, and Harry went mountain climbing and that was the worst thing you’ve ever done in your life, you held toms hand so tight, wore a parachute just in case you see a bear and need to jump off, you were just all over the place.

“Do you wanna go to a party with me?” Tom asked in his dressing room, watching you eat your Cheerios with extra sugar as you raise a single eyebrow at him “depends “ you shrugged, setting down the bowl as you laid on his bed. “I think it’s like a house party, one of my friends asked to come, I don’t know” he shrugged and sat down at the end of the bed looking at you. “Then alright yeah, I have nothing else to do tonight” he smiles and lays down infront of you and you put your hand on his waist listening to his small breathes.

It was the day of the party and you weren’t so big on it. You dressed in some baggy jeans and a long sleeeve with a slicked back ponytail and some vans, your hair in a slicked in a ponytail and some long eyelashes with lip gloss, you said you’d meet him there because it took you hours If someone was waiting on you, strange but also very true.

You sighed and rolled your eyes with your hands on the steering wheels, trying to find a parking space but it was packed. “Why does this man have so many freinds? ISNT this only a house party?” You muttered, finally finding a parking spot, pretty close. Tom had called you and told you he was waiting at the door when you had just parked, he knew what your car looked like so when he found it he smiled and it made him slightly over excited.

“Hey babe” he smiled and you returned with “hey love” you both exchanged with tight hugs and he took your hand and pulled you in, the first thing that met your nose was sweat and achol. You silently cringed as Tom tried to contain his laughs, pulling you to the kitchen and to the counter, you could barely jump so he helped you up. “Hungry?” He asked. “Any waffles?!” You said and he chuckled, walking over to the fridge and opening the freezer as his smile got brighter, he took the package and threw it at you, which you catches and bit your lip.

The music boomed through the walls, he got you both a beer and ended up burning the waffles “Y/N!” “IM SORRY!” He quickly shut it, going over to the sink and opening the window, the breeze string so he sighed in relief and walked over to you giving you a strong high-five making you hiss “sorry!” He adorably said with made you smile at him, you both made your way upstairs, grabbing a couple beer bottles on the way.

“So” he said, looking at his bottle. “So?” You asked looking at him confused. “How’ve ya been?” He asked, achol in both of your systems as you shrugged. “Happy with you here” “that’s cute y/n” he laughed, setting down the bottle and looking at you. “So are you like not bored?” “We can like watch something?” “Like what?” “The backyardagains?” He looked at you confused, “a child’s show?” “Hey it’s more interesting then alone or whatever you like to watch” “why don’t we like watch porn hub or something?” “That’s wierder then what I said, but I mean..-“ “backyardagains it is” he put his lips in a tight manner, he tried to find the remote on the night stand but it was on your side, luckily there was on demand so you didn’t have to pay for anything.

you both watched the show, him smiling at laughing at you as you mocked the words. “You must had watched this a million times to know what their saying” he chuckled. “Hey don’t judge me, beer?” You asked grabbing one, when he said yeah you added another and handed it to him. You guys got closer, his hand on your waist while you head was on your chest, which shifted to his hand on your ass when you were all the way on top of him, platonically, but when you both looked at each other he pulled in and kissed you roughly, you batted your eyes at him and sat up, setting your beer aside as he did the same, he took his hand and put it on your neck, tugging you down to kiss him.

You slowly rocking your hips on his member feeling it grow as he let out distant groans, his hand stayed comfterbly on your neck, not squeezing to tight but just right. “Do you wanna?” He asked against your lips and you only nodded. “Say it” he said, rubbing his nose against yours. “I want to” “you want to what baby girl?” “I want to have sex with you” “you can be naughtier than that” he bit your bottom lip, pulling it back with him and letting it go, making eye contact with you.

“I want you to fuck me tommy” you kept your hips moving as he let out a hoarse chuckle “that’s my good girl” he squeezed your throat and you whimpered, he released your neck and made his way down your stomach to the button of your pants, his other hand made its way to your cheek, taking it slow and taking everything in as his small lips were against your plump ones, he undid your pants and they were looser then before, so he climbed down and found-

“Lace?” He whispered against your lips, “thong? Naughty girl” your stomach reeked with butterflies as a pool was comfterbly inbeteeen your legs, he pulled the material back and let it go your back arching as you let out a “shit”. You could feel his hard on against you as you were eager to take off your clothes and just give it all to him. He finally came to where you wanted him, he swirled your pearl before digging in your wetness and pumping it “Tommy” you whimpered, bucking your hips into his hand. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you” he licked your bottom lip before having it enter your mouth, you basically fucked his hand as he lowered down, finding you sweet spot instantly which only instensed the pleasure. You put your head in his shoulder as you pulled down the rest of your pants, lifting each leg to get them off.

He took his hand out of you which made you whine but he shushed you and made you sit up, looking at the white thong and how it squeezed your skin, he lifted the long sleeve, up and over you head to find you not wearing a bra. “Fucking hell y/n, your so perfect” he smiled, taking a boob in his hand while you lifted your hips to work on his pants,he bucked his hips up slightly so you could pull them down, and it stood, you bit your lip and you looked down and seen the outline of his thick member, seeing a small spot of precum leaking through his underwear. “You gonna stare?” He chuckled, you let out a sorry and pulled down the boxers revealing his member, it sprung up to his lower stomach and you bit your lip, he was above average by like two inches but he was also so...large.

“It’s pretty Tommy” you complement which leaves him smiling. “I’ll be prettier once it’s in you” he knew you were just pooling by his words, you both didn’t want to waste anytime so he pulled the thong to the side, sliding his finger through your heat leaving your hips stuttering slightly, “you ready?” You nodded at him and let out a yeah, he took his member and pumped himself a few times before entering you with a groan.

“Fuck y/n your so tight” you softly came down on him, you being on top and holding onto the head board for support as you lifted your hips and ripped them again “mmmm” you moaned, your head tilting back as he watched comfterbly, seeing you in control. You went faster the bed making noise as whimpers left your lips, his hand came up to your waist and held tight, biting his lip as he watched your boobs bounce infront of his face (ew sex 🤢 don’t know her)

He groaned and let out a fuck, moaning at his name as he sat up, looking up at your face and how your beautiful moans leave your lips. “You like that y/n, you like riding me?” He asked, slightly breathing heavy, he messed with the hem on your thong before taking both of his hands to rip it off. “Mhm, you owe me a thong” he sucked hickeys on the pad of your skin, or where ever he could. You rolled your hips, tired of bouncing as your breath was heavy, making eye contact with his darken, lust filled eyes, he didn’t heasitate to kiss your lips, shoving his tongue in your mouth and fighting for dominance, which of course he won, his hands came down to open your legs, fucking himself into you as you whined. “Fuck baby” he groaned when your hands were on his shoulders, clawing them as he hisses in pain but also in pleasure, his hands are tight on your legs which felt so good to you, hearing the clapping noises as you bucked your hips.

“Tommy you feel so good” you moaned, “yeah? My cock wrapped around your tight little pussy, so warm and wet for who?” “For you” your head tilted back, opening your legs more as you begged for more, which he gave to you, he flipped you both over making him on top, he went as fast as he could, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you choked on your moans “t-Tommy!” “You like that baby?” He asked. “Like it when I fuck into your tight pussy, where you can barely speak, when I bust you fucking open?” “Please please please”

“Please what? Be a good girl and take daddies dick yeah?” When you bucked your hips he laid a slap on your ass, your back arching as you cried and open your legs as open as possible, your chest pressed up against his, he used the head board to pound harder into you, groaning as each thrust, yours moans where high pitched “I’m gonna-“ you swallowed. “Cum? Hold it for me, I’ll tell you when you get it to cum” “your in so deep I don’t know-“ “just try’n hold it” he felt his climax building up. “Please tom can I cum?” You let out a rough high pitched moan, really putting your throat in it, he smiled and moaned at your face, then looked down and seen the way he pounded into you so freely, his cock glistening with your wetness, he took his hand and rubbing your clit messy. “To much Tommy!” You basically screamed.

“Take it for me” your back came off the mattress as your face scrunched, you cum blasting right out of you. “joder joder joder joder, papi me haces correr tan fuerte, dios me haces sentir tan bien! joder papi si, papi si papi si papi si!” You cried, which instantly made him cum right after you. “Fuckkkk” he rode it out, his hand still on your clit, your chest stuttered as your hand went to his wrist latching onto it as he keep swirling around your clit, eager to make you cum again. You were so dazed you couldn’t think straight the pleasure over powering you as you were sure you just peed yourself, “Thomas!” You shrieked

He pulled out. “I could do that all day” he muttered, rolling over to the other side as you both panted, he looked over at you and noticed how you weren’t speaking, “what’s up?” You looked over at him and replied with “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk” he laughed and the door soon opened. “Party is fücking over” his friend said, looking at both of you while your bodies were fully naked, he didn’t care he just wanted you both out, the theme song of the backyardagains playing as he shut the door which left you both laughing, he secretly kept the ripped thong and put it in his pocket of his jeans.

“You spoke Spanish to me, y/n” he laughed as you shook your head no. “Stop that’s so embarasinggg!” You groan and cover your ears. “You called me daddy, I don’t know the rest” “I probably did speak Spanish to you, but I didn’t call you daddy, I couldn’t have” “oh no you called me daddy alright, it was fucking gorgeous, I couldn’t help but cum” “shut up!” You both were walking down the street... well you crippled as he held your hand drinking a slurpii that you got form 711. “How will zendaya feel?” He asked you and you shrugged. “I will tell her soon” “and how you spoke fluent Spanish to me? I bet no one has ever fucked you that good huh?” “THOMAS!”

[purplebass]

Hanging On // Thomastair AU

#5 and last Celebratory Fic! It was meant to be something else, but then I didn't finish and I thought this one would be better. You'd probably get the other fic sooner or later, as well as the other requests you may have sent me during these last few months. I had the idea for this Thomastair AU while watching this ambience video. Perhaps you could watch it while you read, use it as bg music. lol. Like the title said, this is a Thomastair coffee shop AU with Eugenia, because I've wanted to write something with her in it. Enjoy!

Characters: Thomas Lightwood, Alastair Carstairs, Eugenia Lightwood Words: 1637

Thomas stared at the early evening crowd of the coffee shop where he worked part-time and sighed. He liked his job, and not just because his parents owned the place and entrusted him and his sister Eugenia to run it. There was something about coffee-making and cake-serving that fascinated him. Perhaps the faces people made once they got their orders or the simple fact of interacting with them, even if they just told him what they wanted. Not everyone was open to conversation, so Thomas mostly observed the clients. He saw a different array of expressions everyday. Relief. Despair. Pain. Joy. There was someone who even cried while sipping their hot chocolate once. It wasn’t the chocolate’s fault.

The coffee shop where Thomas worked was mostly frequented by university students. People around his age who had decided to go on with their studies instead of hunting for a job. He was interested in following some paths, but didn’t feel like enrolling into any institute to pursue his interests, at least for the moment. He was happy making other people feel better for now.

“The coffee won’t make itself, Thomas,” his older sister Eugenia said, serving a brunette at the far end of the table.

He hated when his sister rushed him, but then again he had been distracted for a while. “Coming,” he replied with a sigh, and gave a professor his order.

It was Friday, which meant that it wasn’t just the last day of classes for students, but also their karaoke night. It wouldn’t start until eight, and some small groups of people were already tucking their notebooks away and gathering to order their dinners before their tone-deaf singing session at Thomas’ expense. Eugenia might not know that, but Thomas didn’t ask to have the 6pm-10pm shift because he was crazy. She told him that only someone who didn’t value his free time could choose that shift, because people got very excited when they sang karaoke together.

“What is going on?” Eugenia asked, shaking Thomas from his thoughts.

He was staring at the door and he probably hadn’t heard her. “Nothing is going, sister. Nothing,” he repeated, and used that as an excuse to go to the bathroom before rush hour.

He didn’t want to tell his sister that he had been waiting for someone to show up, and that person was late. Well, he didn’t know if he was late, but he was usually there to eat dinner around that hour, and he hadn’t showed up yet. Thomas bit his lip. Perhaps he had a date. An exam. Something that prevented him from coming. He knew he was overthinking. His sister was right, there was something going on, and he needed to take care of it. He should have kept distractions to a minimum while he worked, unless he wanted Eugenia to tell their parents that he wasn’t doing his duty the way they expected him to.

Thomas shook his head, hitting someone along the way because he wasn’t paying attention due to his overthinking. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. He was about to gasp, because the person he had bumped into was exactly the one he had been waiting for.

“You should watch where you’re going, giant,” the guy said, locking his ebony colored eyes with Thomas. He was frowning, but then again, what was new? He always frowned. That dark haired man was one of those people who no matter how many coffee drank, they always seemed defeated. As if not even that could help their mood. Perhaps the guy was someone whose coffee made him more nervous. Maybe he was a tea guy. No, he likes black coffee, Thomas. And you know it. It’s not the coffee’s fault if it doesn’t lift his mood.

Thomas wanted to say something, anything to keep the conversation going, but he couldn’t find the words, so the handsome stranger walked away, leaving him there with his heart thumping and two flushed cheeks.

Thomas knew that his heart would thunder in his chest when the stranger would go on stage and sing a song. For whom, he didn’t know, since he was often by himself typing away on his laptop until the shop’s crowd would thin and he would leave. What he did know was that the guy’s voice was amazing, that he couldn’t stop staring whenever he went on stage. Why was nobody listening to him? Tonight, though, while groups of two or more students went on singing random hits and wouldn’t leave the mic to someone who could actually sing, the guy stayed focused on his computer.

“Alright, I’m going home,” Eugenia announced at some point. Good thing he had been waiting for her, otherwise she would have found him staring and he didn’t want to answer any question she might ask. Not yet. “Will you be okay closing the place by yourself?”

Thomas, who had been doing it for weeks, just shrugged. “For the millionth time, Eugenia, yes,” he glanced at the tables, seeing movement in the direction of the area where the guy was sitting.

“Hey, don’t get angry, little brother,” she got closer to him, just as the guy stood up and got the mic from the last improvised singer.

“I’m not angry, just tired,” Thomas said a little bluntly, his eyes already set on the stranger as the song he chose to sing started playing.

“He’s good,” he heard Eugenia whisper to him. “I didn’t think he knew how to sing.”

“Do you know him?” he wondered with interest.

Eugenia raised an eyebrow, already trying to make up the reason why Thomas had asked. “I don’t, personally. But our sister Barbara does. He’s an International Relations student named Alastair, or at least that’s what she told me the last time she was here and he was too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Thomas, for real. Why do you want to know?”

Thomas was thankful that the lights were dimmed, otherwise his sister would have caught his flushed cheeks. “Can’t I be curious? It’s not like I’ve asked you the secret formula for Coke, sister.”

Eugenia nodded with a smirk plastered on her face. “Do you want me to introduce him to you?” she offered, and Thomas stilled.

“What, no,” he said, trying to seem as disinterested as possible.

His sister shrugged, then she walked away. In the meantime they were talking, the guy had already sung his piece and sat back down at his lonely table.

Thomas glanced at his wristwatch. There was still one hour before the place would close, maybe he would sing another song? Nope. He just ate in silence as he checked things on his laptop and occasionally typed other things from a notebook by his side, which was his only companion. The clock soon signaled that it was a little past 10, and after the last group of customers had left, Alastair was the only one left in the room. Had he lost track of time? Because he seemed unbothered. Thomas believed that was the universe giving him a chance to talk to him, but he still waited half an hour before doing that. Silly.

He took one big breath of encouragement and walked to the table. You can do it. “I’m sorry, but we are closing. You must leave.”

Alastair’s hands halted on the keyboard, and he looked up. “For a person so imposing, you have the bad habit of saying sorry too much.”

“What’s wrong with saying sorry?”

“Absolutely nothing. But I’m not sorry for staying here past the service hours,” he replied with what Thomas thought was hostility. “I’m finishing a paper, can’t you wait a little more?”

Thomas frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said again, then bit his lip in frustration. “But I have to close the shop and go home.” What was he doing? Why wasn’t he saying that he didn’t mind if he stayed more? Ah, yes. Embarrassment. But also determination. He didn’t know this person, and even if he liked him, he couldn’t make an exception for anybody. Right?

Alastair started to laugh, and Thomas was puzzled. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh,” Thomas said before the other could say anything.

Alastair’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s the first time I had the guts to talk to you,” he replied, then started packing his things in his black laptop bag.

Thomas started sweating. He didn’t expect it. “Me too,” he said. There was an imperceptible stop in Alastair’s movements, as if he had been caught off guard just like he was.

“I was joking,” he told him, rising from his chair, and Thomas froze. “About finishing the paper, I mean,” he added, and Thomas didn’t hide the relief he felt at the admission. “I just wanted to talk to you. I’ve been wanting to do it for several weeks, Thomas.”

“You know how to sing, Alastair,” Thomas said, wondering how he knew his name. But it was fair, he also knew his name through third parties. He registered Alastair’s shock. “What do you say we meet tomorrow after my shift and we talk more?”

“I thought you would never ask,” he answered.

“I thought you would never agree,” he countered.

If only I talked to him sooner, Thomas thought, as he and Alastair exited the coffee shop. It was okay, the ice was broken now. He finally had the guts to interact with him, and he thought that the evening shift was totally worth it, unlike what Eugenia may think.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed, send me a PM): @princesslucinda @kit-12 @immortal-enemies @lucian-evander @esa-emery @danieldyers @blackthorn-trash @rinadragomir @fortunesandfables @itsdaughterofthemoon @silvenys@thomastair3 @livvyheronstairs @ holding-infinity-and-a-book @lovelaces @axoloteca @autumnangel20 @cordelia-cardale @lucie-blackthorns @thephcastcouldsteponme-please

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Boogie Shoes (baon)

Summary: Andy Jeff really isn't one to celebrate his birthday, but when you have someone like Stretch for a best friend, what's a guy supposed to do?

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Found Family, Friendship

Notes:  I like to write a short for my birthday as sort of a present for all my readers, but this year there is Stuff going on so I'm posting a couple days early. 😁

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Jeff was concentrating so hard on the spreadsheet in front of him that the knock on his office door made him jump, banging his knee on his desk.

“Come in,” he called, rubbing his wounded leg. The door opened to reveal not Catty with more work, as expected, but Stretch, carrying what Jeff sincerely hoped was an iced mocha latte with his name on it.

“heya, handy andy,” Stretch set the cup down carefully away from the laptop and Jeff took it gratefully. He seriously loved his job, but everyone could use a quick coffee break from time to time. “i came up to pester my shorter half and thought i’d stop and say hi.”

“If you come bearing caffeine, you can visit any day of the week.” Jeff took a sip and couldn’t hold back an appreciative groan. The Beanery knew its coffee, for sure, and they made their own mocha syrup in house. Perfection in a recyclable cup.

Stretch plopped down in the only other chair in the office, propping his untied sneakers on the corner of Jeff’s desk and Jeff let him, payment for the tasty goodness. “so. right to brass tacks…tacts? who the hell came up with that phrase…anyway, a little bird told me your birthday was coming up.”

“A little bird?” Jeff said dryly. He saved his spreadsheet and pushed his laptop aside; this conversation might require actual attention before he got swept away in some kind of crazy scheme. Been there, done that, lost an eyebrow to prove it. “More like the cat who should’ve gotten your tongue.” Catty was a gossip of astonishing breadth and commitment.

“could be,” Stretch grinned, “but hey, birthdays only happen once in a blue moon, didn’t wanna miss the boat, you’re the apple of my eye, don’t wanna be a fair-weather friend—”

“Enough,” Jeff laughed. “Before I run out of here like a bat out of hell. What did you have in mind?”

Stretch dropped his feet back to the floor and sat up so straight Jeff could hear the joints in his spine pop in protest. “as your best bud, i’m pretty sure i’m supposed to throw you a party or something. didn’t want to go the surprise route, ‘cause as fun as that sounds to me, i kinda think you need to feel out that sort of thing before you plan it. don’t have a bladder, but it doesn’t take a crystal ball to figure out that making someone piss their pants in front of friends and family is kinda the opposite of fun.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” Jeff shuddered. “To be honest, I’d rather not have a party at all.”

“oh. okay, if that’s what you want.” Stretch didn’t sound put out, only a little disappointed as he slumped back into the chair. He wouldn’t pry, Jeff knew, but it was okay. A lot of his old hurts stung less these days.

“It’s just…my parents used to throw me a party every year, but they didn’t invite my friends.” What few he had, but that didn’t seem worth mentioning. “They invited theirs and kids from our church who didn’t even like me. I’d spend the whole time being ignored at a party that was supposed to be about me, unless it was to blow out the candles for the photo op.” The memory of sitting miserably alone, waiting for his father to scold him in a low whisper through clenched teeth to stop embarrassing him…Jeff shook it away. He was done letting his dad hurt him, thanks. “After I moved in with Julia, we just had a little cake and dinner together with some presents.”

He could practically see Stretch eagerly latch onto that idea. “we could do that, if you want! edge could make dinner, you and antwan could come over. have some cake, play some games—”

“Play games? I thought you wanted me to have a nice, quiet night,” Jeff teased. Their game nights hadn’t reached the level of the legendary (and fiery) last game of Monopoly before it was permanently banned, but not for lack of trying.

Stretch’s grin was unashamed, but then, he didn’t usually start the gaming fires, he only fanned the flames. “yeah, okay, maybe a movie. how about it?”

“I’d like that.” One of Edge’s delicious dinners, followed by one of his luscious desserts? He could do things with chocolate that would make angels swear and devils weep, Jeff’s mouth was already watering.

Stretch was nodding thoughtfully, probably already plotting at least something unusual and whatever it was, Jeff knew it would make him laugh. He started to climb to his feet and Jeff hastened to stop his escape. He was starting to get the hang of all this, figuring out the steps to Stretch’s internal dance, and he knew the best time to probe for his own info was when Stretch just dug up his own.

“What about for your birthday,” Jeff asked, lightly, “party animal or homeboy?”

Either way, Jeff figured he could rope Edge into helping and they could have some real fun with it, come up with some sort of crazy party theme. Mad scientist was probably off the table, unless they stuck with classroom experiments, but Stretch would think rubber chickens were hilarious, or wearing anything but clothes or even a 70’s disco bash, Jeff had a cute pair of go-go boots that he was dying to wear.

Of all the answers Stretch might give, from actual honesty (unlikely) to some kind of sly pun (far higher on the list), Jeff was not expecting his friend to only shrug his narrow shoulders. “dunno, i’ve never had a birthday party.”

“What? Seriously?” Jeff said, startled. He’d honestly expected that if nothing else, Edge would make sure Stretch got a little celebration, not to mention Blue.

Stretch only rolled to his feet and lived up to his namesake with a joint-popping groan, tall enough that his fingers brushed the ceiling as he stretched. “don’t even know when my birthday is, none of us do. it was always just me and blue until we got here.”

He didn’t seem bothered by it, which, yeah, it wasn’t like he knew any different. But knowing that Stretch never had any kind of parent…sure, his own parents were kind of shit, but he’d at least had Julia. Stretch was the older brother, had anyone ever taken care of him, made sure he had presents and hugs and treats when he needed them, made him feel any kind of special, before Edge stepped up?

Jeff was afraid he knew the answer to that one. No wonder the whole Skeleton family went all out on Gyftmas.

“anyway, i better let you get back to work.” Stretch waggled his fingers in a lazy little wave. “i’ll talk to edge, makes some plans for this weekend, yeah?”

“Sure, sounds great,” Jeff said, but he already had a plan of his own forming and knew just the accomplice to help.

It was how he ended up crouched behind a sofa a few days later with the entire skeleton clan, plus extras, waiting for a door to open and the lights to turn on before jumping out with the rest of them to a loud chorus of, “Surprise!”

Surprise was probably an understatement, Stretch nearly jumped out of his non-existent skin and he dropped the bag of books he was carrying, a quick call from Thomas at ‘Classic Books’ the perfect ruse to get him out of the house for a couple of hours.

Jeff really hoped someone recorded that shriek, it deserved a place of honor on Twitter.

“what the hell?” Stretch didn’t seem happy, only bewildered, looking around the room at the streamers, the balloons, the haphazard pile of presents with the rubber chicken in a white leisure suit standing guard, and the banner that declared, ‘happy birthday!’. There was an entire buffet table full of mouthwatering treats, more than enough for the hungry guests, and eh, maybe the huge disco ball was a bit much, but when you had a theme, you had to run with it.

“It’s a party for you, Papy!” Blue chirped out, like maybe somehow his brother missed the clue. His cheery smile dimmed a little, the party hat on his head almost drooping when Stretch only stood there in confusion with his bag at his feet. Edge started towards him in obvious concern and Jeff held out a hand to stop him. This was his idea, he’d take the heat.

He walked over to Stretch and picked up the bag, heavy books shifting within it. The shiny white leather of his go-go boots reflected the light of the disco ball, but Jeff forced himself not to stare at them. Instead, he pulled off one of the wide gold chains around his neck, the one with a medallion on it that had ‘Let’s Boogie’ engraved in it. He held it out, looking into his friend’s pale eye lights as he admitted, a little nervously, “I figured since I didn’t want my birthday, I’d give it to you.”

The confusion on Stretch’s face faded into something more complicated, harder to interpret, but there was no mistaking the strength of the hug Jeff abruptly found himself pulled into, the books thumping back to the floor.

“thanks.” A single word, maybe a little too soft and thick. Tears pricked Jeff’s eyes as he hugged Stretch back, the best friend he’d never even thought to wish for, much less imagined he’d have. Then he was biting back a laugh as Stretch murmured, “we’re still doing dinner and a movie, you shit.”

“Deal.”

Stretch let go after a minute and his grin was enough to rouse the rest of the guests who were starting murmur apprehensively. He snatched the necklace still dangling from Jeff’s hand and looped it around his neck with a loud, “c’mon, let’s party!”

It was one of the best ideas Jeff thought he’d heard all year.

-finis-

[justthehiddleswrites]

Shouldn’t | A Luke Windsor Companion Fic

Note:  A companion fic to my series Should (to be posted soon).  

Summary:  Tom went over to Emma’s to celebrate her birthday.  One thing led to another and now the two of them are splashed across the gossip columns.  Luke must now untangle the mess but not before giving Tom an earful.

Warnings: swearing

- 

For the first time in a long time, Luke seemed well rested. With Tom in California with a big project on board, Luke breathed easy. Movie projects gave Tom little time to get himself into the trouble that made Luke wish he became an educator. Or so Luke thought.

Not long after Tom arrived in L.A., he text Luke about an actress called Emma Masters.  Tom often spoke with great fondness about this Emma and one night in New York. Luke knew there was more to the story but never pressed for more details to maintain deniability. He now regretted that decision.

As Luke sat down for dinner, his phone rang. He recognized the number of one of his assistants.

“Hello?”

“You need to check our email now.” a stern voice responded on the other end of the line.

“What did he do now?” Luke sniped back. He feared the ridiculous video someone posted to social media.  “You ever heard of someone called Emma Masters?”

“I’m going to the office.” he snapped as the blood drained from his face.

-

Luke rapped his fingers on the glass desktop as he scrolled through his news feed.  Only speculation as to why Tom’s car remained unmoved.  There could be an innocent explanation, but Luke knew better. He dialed Tom’s cell number once again.

“Hey Tom, it’s Luke again. I really need to speak to you, mate. Call me.” he said in as cheery a tone as he could manage under the circumstances.

He switched off the light before emailing the assistant handling Tom and told her to call him when any new information surfaced. There was not much to do at this point and headed home and wait for Tom’s call. He left two more unanswered voice mails and several unread messages before calling it a night.

The next morning, Luke woke up and saw Tom never called. Or text. Or apparently left the house. And the headlines rolled by on Luke’s screen. Hiddles Home wrecker. Costars in Love Nest.

“No.. No Nooo!” Luke cursed as he jumped from the bed and punched in Tom’s phone. Tom picked up.

“Luke, I…”

“What in the bloody hell were you thinking?”

“Luke it’s not like that. I was coming up for her birth…”

“You plan these kinds of things to torture me don’t you, Thomas?” Luke spitted into the phone. He could sense Tom wincing on the other end of the line at his full first name.

“No, it wasn’t planned.”

“Hard to believe.”

“Luke. Her horrible boyfriend left her alone on her birthday. What was I supposed to do? Leave her alone. I came over to have some cake. One thing lead to another…” Tom explained with a tense tone.

“And you slipped and fell.” Luke snapped back.

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone.

“I’m not discussing that with you now. I’ll call when I get home.”

Tom ended the call. Luke threw the phone onto the bed, watching it bounce before falling onto the floor. This was not a good sign.

-

In the time it took Tom to call Luke back, new photos appeared on the Internet. Photos of Tom and this Emma girl kissing at her front door. Tom wore the same clothes from Friday and Emma appeared in what could only be described as pajamas. Their embrace was not one of two people who just met but long time lovers. Luke felt the knot in his stomach tighten and he grabbed for his trusty antacids. His phone rang, and he picked up knowing it was Tom.

“You prat.”

“I beg your pardon?” Tom questioned.

“KISSING AT THE FRONT DOOR?!?” Luke bellowed.

Tom cleared his throat. “I didn’t see the cameras.”

“I don’t doubt that. What with you blinded by love or was lust?”

“Watch your tone, Luke, when speaking about Emma to me!” Tom’s voice raised to match Luke’s.

Tom knew Luke meant well, but he was not about to allow anyone even his publicist to speak ill of the woman he was falling in love with. He would take the brunt of Luke’s punishment to save Emma the pain.

“What exactly is going on between the two of you?”

Tom gave a nervous chuckle. “It’s complicated, Luke.”

“I am sure it is. But try to explain Tom.” Luke responded with a dry tone.

Tom ran through the whole thing about the movie, his feelings, and Bryce. Tom left out anything about New York five years ago. It was none of Luke’s business.

Luke pinched the bridge of his nose once Tom finished.

“So… correct if I am wrong. I went over to the house of your beautiful co-star, whom you have feelings for, to celebrate her birthday, while her long term live-in boyfriend was away on a business trip. HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND, YOU WANK?!?”

“Soon to be ex and complete jerk boyfriend.” Tom stated.

“But not an ex yet. That makes you the other man, Thomas, you tit.” Luke countered. “I am coming out to L.A. today.”

“That is not necessary, Luke. I have things…”

“… under control. I think you lost control of the situation when you took your pants off Tom.”

Tom stifled a comment.

“Fine. You can meet Emma.”

“You bet your ass I am meeting her. And you. Together. We need to straighten this mess out.”

“Whatever you say. You’re the boss.” Tom gave a little snap to tone.

“Don’t patronize, Thomas. It is so unbecoming. I will call you when I arrive.”

“Of course.”

“And Tom? Is there anything else you want to tell me before I get there? I don’t like surprises.”

Tom grimaced.

“Nothing Luke.” he lied. “See when you get out here.”

“Goodbye, Tom.”

“Bye Luke.”

Tom hung up the phone and began to sweat.

[propertyofwicked]

Could you do an a-z of dating Tom Blake pls??

ty for the request, i hope this is ok x :)

a-z of dating tom blake

obviously, we’re going to pretend THAT scene doesn’t happen and he just ends up with a tiny surgery nd some stitches :)

warnings: slight sexual references but only like twice lol

a - argue

tom is STUBBORN. that boy will be so wrong yet will be adamant he is correct till physically proven otherwise. this was usually the start of arguments. you too are stubborn, but not to the extent of tom. any argument results in tom going for a walk around the town, to let out all of his pent up anger as he couldn’t bare to shout at you for something so petty. you’d sit in the living room silently, waiting for him to return, which gave you time to think about what to say. once he did come back, he’d sit on the sofa next to you, and take your hands in his, and you’d talk through the problem rationally. since the war, he would get angrier much quicker, the smallest things being able to send him over the edge, so he’d take the time to apologise, as would you, and he’d show you how much he loves you ;)

b - body (his favourite body part of yours)

thomas blake is an ass man. any time he can have his hands on your lower back, resting on your arse - he would. he loves to walk behind you, just to show his appreciation for your curves and whenever he’d stand next to you, his hand would be on your arse squeezing it playfully when nobody is looking. 

c - care (caring for each other when you’re sick)

tom likes to pretend he is tough and no illness can beat him, and because of this, he will work himself to the bone instead of resting. he’d wake up in the morning, his voice deeper than ever as a cough tickled his throat. as much as he tries to hide it, the moment you notice, he’s back in bed with a cup of tea on the bedside table. when you’re ill, however, tom takes the day off work and just lays in bed with you day, not caring if he got ill as well - as long as you were content. 

d - dates (what do you guys do?)

you and tom would have really basic dates, enjoying each other more than an expensive meal. often, in the summer months, you’d walk down to the river and have a picnic, or sometimes you’d lay down in his mother’s orchid, watching the petals fall around you. it doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you’re together. 

e - engagements (how he proposed) 

it would be just dropped into a conversation, nothing fancy and very unprepared in true thomas fashion. like you could just be laying in bed, or cooking dinner and he’d look at you and go “hey, should we get married” and very casually you’d just reply “yeah sure” before realising he was serious and falling into his arms to give him the biggest hug you could. it just so happened he had his grandmother’s ring in his possession so he just used that.

f - friends and family (do they like you/him?)

his family ADORE you. his brother likes you, as you were raised intelligent and could have a good conversation with him - you were also a prime babysitter for him and his wife. his mum loves to finally have a girl tom’s age around, as she had spent 30 years being in an all-male household other than herself. your dad was wary around him towards the start of your relationship, but he soon welcomed him into the family after tom had helped him fix a bookcase. your mum was glad to finally see you happy, glad you’d managed to be comfortably settled down from a young age. since you lived a while away from each other's families, your friends from home never really knew your partner.

g - gifts

you guys are not terribly poor but you’re also not the richest, so surprise presents were fairly rare. whenever tom went home to visit his family, he’d return with a cake baked specially from his mother. sometimes he’d return from work, hiding something behind his back, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face and after asking him what he was hiding, he’d produce flowers that he got on the cheap from the market on his way home. 

h - how you met

you worked as a nurse in the war, so when tom was carried in, blood pouring from his abdomen, it was your job to take care of him. something in you nagged at you to accompany him the furthest you could, which is how you ended up in a base hospital tending to this soldier. over the months he was in your care, you got to know each other well, and promised to keep in contact when you returned home. 

i - intimacy (how often are yall getting down)

thomas blake has the stamina of a KING. he is ready to go to town every night and every morning for as long as you can manage - and the look he gave you before was enough to give in almost every night. 

j - jealousy

tom gets jealous of the relationship between you and his brother. he felt as if he had also been in his shadow, the younger, less handsome brother. it was obvious when he got like this because he’d go quiet, unlike his usual joking self. you didn’t tend to get overly jealous, as you could tell tom was whipped for you and barely batted an eye at anyone else. 

k - kinks

tom has a lowkey breeding kink i reckon, not like 40 kids kinda kink, but he loves the idea of getting you pregnant and seeing you carry his children and raise them. having grown up in a loving family, he wants nothing more than to have one for himself. 

l - long distance

whilst you were both away at war, you tended to be in various areas of france. the only contact you had was letters, where he’d tell you about his day or some funny story he witnessed or overheard. you told him of the wounds you saw, as it was the only way you could really pass them through your mind so they didn’t haunt you forever. it was the best part of the week, receiving letters from tom and he felt the exact same when the post came by and a letter with his name in your handwriting was handed to him. 

m - moving in

you moved in together at the end of the war, in your correspondence, when the days got long and boring, the only thing you could talk about was the future - where you’d live, how the living room would be arranged. it was more optimistic that truthful but when the war ended and you met again, you both knew it was something you had to do. tom was so glad he could live with someone who had witnessed the same pain and distraught he had and you were so glad that you both had each other in the hard nights. 

n - nights out 

you’re not much of a party go-er yourself, much rather preferring to listen to the music on the record player. sometimes, you and tom would go out dancing with scho and his wife but it was fairly rare. 

o - open with each other

the mutual experiences of the war allowed you two to be so open with each other. if there was anything on your mind, something you couldn’t get off your chest, you knew that you could tell tom and even if he couldn’t get rid of it, he’d make it so much better. tom often had nightmares of the day he got injured and every time he woke up in fits of sweats, you would be there to listen to him and tell him how everything was going to be better. 

p - pda

you two aren’t over the top in public but often are reminded with a sly cough from will that you were in fact, in full view of everyone. tom can’t keep his hands of you most of the time, grabbing your arse at any possible chance he got. you prefer to be more cute with your affection, taking his hand when walking down the street or pecking his cheek randomly. 

q - questions (what you talk about late at night?)

as mentioned before, you guys normally talk about the war. it makes it so much easier to cope with the horrors that loom over you like a shadow. sharing the experience allowed you both to cope with your own thoughts a lot better.

r - reproduction (do you want kids?)

Y E S. tom wants a house full of miniature versions of him, and it is something he discusses with you often. you want whatever tom wants pretty much, and having a product of the love you shared was a dream of yours. 

s - surprising (what surprised you about him)

he’s very affectionate when he’s sad. rather than bottling up, tom knows how to talk about his problems really openly with you and he’s not afraid to show emotion. 

t - together (what you do together)

towards the start of your relationship, after the war, you two would go on cute dates in the forest or on the river bank almost weekly, but you now you guys prefer to stay home and make use of that bedroom ;)

u - under the influence (drunk vibes)

tom is even funnier when he’s drunk. he comes home from a night out with will and some other friends and just sits, staring at you. every 5 minutes or so he’d mumble something along the lines of “you’re gorgeous - do you have a boyfriend?”. it was cute to start with but by t eh fifth time, you're laying him down on the bed and trying to lul him to sleep.

v - vacations

tom likes to go to cornwall with you. it’s where he frequently went on holidays as a child, and he loves to take you to the places he visited in his youth. 

w - wedding

you guys have a small wedding, just in the church near your house. you couldn’t afford a massive wedding and you didn’t really want one. so you held the ceremony with your families and your closest friends and chose to spend the reception at your house, listening to music on the record player and having a roast dinner. 

x - xray (when he’s hurt)

obviously, you had cared from him in the war, but sometimes the scar on his stomach would cause him pain if he moved it in the wrong way. there wasn’t much you could do, but you would lay with him and comfort him, or bring him medicine with his food. 

y - you (a random headcanon) 

“tom have you seen my glasses anywhere?” you called out to the house, hoping and an extra set of eyes could help.

“no, sorry! where did you last see them?” he called back.

“i can’t remember. they were here one moment then the next they weren’t” you trailed off as tom made his way into the kitchen. he took one glance at you, then burst into laughter, leaving you standing there in confusion.

“what? what are you laughing at?”

“baby, have you checked the top of your head?”

“oh my god!” you said, realising they had been there the whole time, your face going a new shade of red in embarrassment.

“awh bless, you really do need glasses,” tom smiled coming over to you, taking you in his arms.  his lips pressed to your head in a quick peck before he walked back to where he had been sat before. 

z - zzzzzzzzzzzz’s (sleeping routine)

you’re usually in bed first, choosing to read a book before packing in for the night. tom would stay downstairs longer, reading the paper or going for a shower. but when he did come upstairs, he’d just stand in the door frame and gaze upon you, like he had never seen something so angelic. once he got into bed, you’d mark the page and close the book, leaning into his side and his arm moving to wrap around you. 

[meat-husband]

Soooo.... Totally unrelated but s/o cooking for slashers hc??

Oh no what an unexpected request that I totally did not see coming at all and am completely surprised by :o thank you

Brahms

Surprisingly, he is not very picky at all. If he’s feeling like making some trouble, then he will definitely find something to complain about, but you don’t have to be a gourmet chef to get his seal of approval. 

He does have a few no-no’s though - no cheap frozen or boxed meals and nothing spicy. You don’t have to have a lot of skill in the kitchen, but he doesn’t eat cheap either. 

Don’t expect much if you dare to ask for his help in the kitchen. His version of “helping” is just clinging to your shoulders and getting in the way, and he’s really only useful for occasionally reaching something on a tall shelf. 

Desert is a must for every meal. Cakes or cookies, it doesn’t matter what kind, so long as you’ve got something sweet. He also loves sweet things for breakfast and you go through a crazy amount of blueberry muffins each week. 

Michael

100% hands down the easiest to please when it comes to food. Most of the time you don’t even need to cook anything, he will just grab whatever he can get his hands on. Absolutely drinks straight out of juice and milk cartons and puts them back in the fridge. 

If you do cook, prepare to be appalled at his lack of manners. He will eat straight from the pots and pans if you don’t watch him and silverware is always optional. 

You’re not getting any help from him with preparation - if you don’t make something, he’s fine with eating frozen burritos directly from the package. You’re the only one who’s going to go hungry in this situation. 

Dessert isn’t an addition to dinner, it’s an entire meal of its own for him. He doesn’t care how long you spent making that three course meal, he’s only here for the cake, and yes he wants all of it. 

Bubba

You don’t just cook for one person in this house - if you want to cook, you’re doing it for the whole family. Drayton is either pleased that someone else is finally doing some damn work around here, or snippy and a little pissed that you’re taking over the kitchen (probably both).

Bubba isn’t exactly picky, but he’s really only used to eating certain things. He’s up to try new food, but the meat and potatoes staples are what he likes best. You’ve really only got one kind of meat to work with, too, so you’re a little limited on what you can do with it. 

He would love to help you in the kitchen, but he’s not the most confident about it. He can’t follow the directions on the boxes very well and he’s quick to get overwhelmed and nervous, so maybe just let him focus on setting the table. 

Most days you get the house to yourselves after the others leave, so lunch is the only meal you really get to have together. This is when you make his favorites, so he doesn’t have to share with his brothers. 

Thomas

There’s a long list of things he won’t eat, and most of them are vegetables. He might pick at them if you fuss, but mostly he ignores anything that looks even vaguely healthy. If you want him to get anything other than meat in his diet, you’ve got to be sneaky about it. 

If you’re making food for Thomas, you’d better make a lot of it. Dinner is always an ‘every man for himself’ situation, so if you want anything, you’ve got to get in there and fight for it. 

He’s very resistant to the idea of using silverware, despite Mama’s attempts to force him. He eats with his hands and it gets pretty messy, but everyone else has just about given up trying to teach him manners.

He likes to share food with you, pulling you into his lap and feeding you bites from his plate. It’s one of his favorite ways to show affection, so you always get a few bites whenever you bring him lunch. 

Jason

He doesn’t really need to eat, but he’ll accept any food you offer him. He understands the intent behind it, doing something to care for someone and provide for them, so it’s more the act itself that he appreciates rather than the actual food.

Things don’t taste the same as they did before and he doesn’t often get much pleasure from eating, other than seeing you happy. He does still have favorite foods, but it’s usually things he remembers liking before rather than anything that stands out now. 

He hasn’t really gotten the hang of cooking himself, even though he has tried numerous times to surprise you with a nice meal. He does okay if you keep a very careful eye on him, but you’ve got to take over once it gets more difficult than cutting the vegetables. 

Most of the time he doesn’t want his own plate and will just take a little from yours. You’ve got to get pushy if you want him to eat any more than that - maybe he doesn’t need to eat, but you can’t shake the instinct that makes you worry he’s hungry anyways. 

Vincent

Please. There hasn’t been anything remotely close to a homemade meal in forever, so you’ve got everyone’s attention when you casually mention making a meal that doesn’t come from the microwave. 

He’s going to eat whatever you put in front of him, so you don’t have to worry about what foods he does or doesn’t like. He’s just grateful to be eating something that didn’t come out of the freezer two minutes ago. 

His appearances upstairs might be rare, but if you’re cooking, he’ll show up without being told. There is no physical way to stop him from helping in the kitchen, no matter how many times you insist that it doesn’t take two people to make hamburger helper. 

There are no such things as leftovers in this house, especially not if you get all three of the brothers in the same room. Scuffles have broken out over the last piece of lasagna, so you’ve had to take charge of making plates to assure that everyone gets an even amount.

[draculalive]

“The Pall Mall Gazette,” 18 September.

THE ESCAPED WOLF. PERILOUS ADVENTURE OF OUR INTERVIEWER. Interview with the Keeper in the Zoölogical Gardens.

After many inquiries and almost as many refusals, and perpetually using the words “Pall Mall Gazette” as a sort of talisman, I managed to find the keeper of the section of the Zoölogical Gardens in which the wolf department is included. Thomas Bilder lives in one of the cottages in the enclosure behind the elephant-house, and was just sitting down to his tea when I found him. Thomas and his wife are hospitable folk, elderly, and without children, and if the specimen I enjoyed of their hospitality be of the average kind, their lives must be pretty comfortable. The keeper would not enter on what he called “business” until the supper was over, and we were all satisfied. Then when the table was cleared, and he had lit his pipe, he said:—

“Now, sir, you can go on and arsk me what you want. You’ll excoose me refoosin’ to talk of perfeshunal subjects afore meals. I gives the wolves and the jackals and the hyenas in all our section their tea afore I begins to arsk them questions.”

“How do you mean, ask them questions?” I queried, wishful to get him into a talkative humour.

“’Ittin’ of them over the ’ead with a pole is one way; scratchin’ of their hears is another, when gents as is flush wants a bit of a show-orf to their gals. I don’t so much mind the fust — the ’ittin’ with a pole afore I chucks in their dinner; but I waits till they’ve ’ad their sherry and kawffee, so to speak, afore I tries on with the ear-scratchin’. Mind you,” he added philosophically, “there’s a deal of the same nature in us as in them theer animiles. Here’s you a-comin’ and arskin’ of me questions about my business, and I that grumpy-like that only for your bloomin’ ’arf-quid I’d ’a’ seen you blowed fust ’fore I’d answer. Not even when you arsked me sarcastic-like if I’d like you to arsk the Superintendent if you might arsk me questions. Without offence did I tell yer to go to ’ell?”

“You did.”

“An’ when you said you’d report me for usin’ of obscene language that was ’ittin’ me over the ’ead; but the ’arf-quid made that all right. I weren’t a-goin’ to fight, so I waited for the food, and did with my ’owl as the wolves, and lions, and tigers does. But, Lor’ love yer ’art, now that the old ’ooman has stuck a chunk of her tea-cake in me, an’ rinsed me out with her bloomin’ old teapot, and I’ve lit hup, you may scratch my ears for all you’re worth, and won’t git even a growl out of me. Drive along with your questions. I know what yer a-comin’ at, that ’ere escaped wolf.”

“Exactly. I want you to give me your view of it. Just tell me how it happened; and when I know the facts I’ll get you to say what you consider was the cause of it, and how you think the whole affair will end.”

“All right, guv’nor. This ’ere is about the ’ole story. That ’ere wolf what we called Bersicker was one of three grey ones that came from Norway to Jamrach’s, which we bought off him four years ago. He was a nice well-behaved wolf, that never gave no trouble to talk of. I’m more surprised at ’im for wantin’ to get out nor any other animile in the place. But, there, you can’t trust wolves no more nor women.”

“Don’t you mind him, sir!” broke in Mrs. Tom, with a cheery laugh. “’E’s got mindin’ the animiles so long that blest if he ain’t like a old wolf ’isself! But there ain’t no ’arm in ’im.”

“Well, sir, it was about two hours after feedin’ yesterday when I first hear my disturbance. I was makin’ up a litter in the monkey-house for a young puma which is ill; but when I heard the yelpin’ and ’owlin’ I kem away straight. There was Bersicker a-tearin’ like a mad thing at the bars as if he wanted to get out. There wasn’t much people about that day, and close at hand was only one man, a tall, thin chap, with a ’ook nose and a pointed beard, with a few white hairs runnin’ through it. He had a ’ard, cold look and red eyes, and I took a sort of mislike to him, for it seemed as if it was ’im as they was hirritated at. He ’ad white kid gloves on ’is ’ands, and he pointed out the animiles to me and says: ‘Keeper, these wolves seem upset at something.’

“‘Maybe it’s you,’ says I, for I did not like the airs as he give ’isself. He didn’t git angry, as I ’oped he would, but he smiled a kind of insolent smile, with a mouth full of white, sharp teeth. ‘Oh no, they wouldn’t like me,’ ’e says.

“‘Ow yes, they would,’ says I, a-imitatin’ of him. ‘They always likes a bone or two to clean their teeth on about tea-time, which you ’as a bagful.’

“Well, it was a odd thing, but when the animiles see us a-talkin’ they lay down, and when I went over to Bersicker he let me stroke his ears same as ever. That there man kem over, and blessed but if he didn’t put in his hand and stroke the old wolf’s ears too!

“‘Tyke care,’ says I. ‘Bersicker is quick.’

“‘Never mind,’ he says. ‘I’m used to ’em!’

“‘Are you in the business yourself?’ I says, tyking off my ’at, for a man what trades in wolves, anceterer, is a good friend to keepers.

“‘No’ says he, ‘not exactly in the business, but I ’ave made pets of several.’ And with that he lifts his ’at as perlite as a lord, and walks away. Old Bersicker kep’ a-lookin’ arter ’im till ’e was out of sight, and then went and lay down in a corner and wouldn’t come hout the ’ole hevening. Well, larst night, so soon as the moon was hup, the wolves here all began a-’owling. There warn’t nothing for them to ’owl at. There warn’t no one near, except some one that was evidently a-callin’ a dog somewheres out back of the gardings in the Park road. Once or twice I went out to see that all was right, and it was, and then the ’owling stopped. Just before twelve o’clock I just took a look round afore turnin’ in, an’, bust me, but when I kem opposite to old Bersicker’s cage I see the rails broken and twisted about and the cage empty. And that’s all I know for certing.”

“Did any one else see anything?”

“One of our gard’ners was a-comin’ ’ome about that time from a ’armony, when he sees a big grey dog comin’ out through the garding ’edges. At least, so he says, but I don’t give much for it myself, for if he did ’e never said a word about it to his missis when ’e got ’ome, and it was only after the escape of the wolf was made known, and we had been up all night-a-huntin’ of the Park for Bersicker, that he remembered seein’ anything. My own belief was that the ’armony ’ad got into his ’ead.”

“Now, Mr. Bilder, can you account in any way for the escape of the wolf?”

“Well, sir,” he said, with a suspicious sort of modesty, “I think I can; but I don’t know as ’ow you’d be satisfied with the theory.”

“Certainly I shall. If a man like you, who knows the animals from experience, can’t hazard a good guess at any rate, who is even to try?”

“Well then, sir, I accounts for it this way; it seems to me that ’ere wolf escaped — simply because he wanted to get out.”

From the hearty way that both Thomas and his wife laughed at the joke I could see that it had done service before, and that the whole explanation was simply an elaborate sell. I couldn’t cope in badinage with the worthy Thomas, but I thought I knew a surer way to his heart, so I said:—

“Now, Mr. Bilder, we’ll consider that first half-sovereign worked off, and this brother of his is waiting to be claimed when you’ve told me what you think will happen.”

“Right y’are, sir,” he said briskly. “Ye’ll excoose me, I know, for a-chaffin’ of ye, but the old woman here winked at me, which was as much as telling me to go on.”

“Well, I never!” said the old lady.

“My opinion is this: that ’ere wolf is a-’idin’ of, somewheres. The gard’ner wot didn’t remember said he was a-gallopin’ northward faster than a horse could go; but I don’t believe him, for, yer see, sir, wolves don’t gallop no more nor dogs does, they not bein’ built that way. Wolves is fine things in a storybook, and I dessay when they gets in packs and does be chivyin’ somethin’ that’s more afeared than they is they can make a devil of a noise and chop it up, whatever it is. But, Lor’ bless you, in real life a wolf is only a low creature, not half so clever or bold as a good dog; and not half a quarter so much fight in ’im. This one ain’t been used to fightin’ or even to providin’ for hisself, and more like he’s somewhere round the Park a-’idin’ an’ a-shiverin’ of, and, if he thinks at all, wonderin’ where he is to get his breakfast from; or maybe he’s got down some area and is in a coal-cellar. My eye, won’t some cook get a rum start when she sees his green eyes a-shining at her out of the dark! If he can’t get food he’s bound to look for it, and mayhap he may chance to light on a butcher’s shop in time. If he doesn’t, and some nursemaid goes a-walkin’ orf with a soldier, leavin’ of the hinfant in the perambulator — well, then I shouldn’t be surprised if the census is one babby the less. That’s all.”

I was handing him the half-sovereign, when something came bobbing up against the window, and Mr. Bilder’s face doubled its natural length with surprise.

“God bless me!” he said. “If there ain’t old Bersicker come back by ’isself!”

He went to the door and opened it; a most unnecessary proceeding it seemed to me. I have always thought that a wild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between us; a personal experience has intensified rather than diminished that idea.

After all, however, there is nothing like custom, for neither Bilder nor his wife thought any more of the wolf than I should of a dog. The animal itself was as peaceful and well-behaved as that father of all picture-wolves — Red Riding Hood’s quondam friend, whilst moving her confidence in masquerade.

The whole scene was an unutterable mixture of comedy and pathos. The wicked wolf that for half a day had paralysed London and set all the children in the town shivering in their shoes, was there in a sort of penitent mood, and was received and petted like a sort of vulpine prodigal son. Old Bilder examined him all over with most tender solicitude, and when he had finished with his penitent said:—

“There, I knew the poor old chap would get into some kind of trouble; didn’t I say it all along? Here’s his head all cut and full of broken glass. ’E’s been a-gettin’ over some bloomin’ wall or other. It’s a shyme that people are allowed to top their walls with broken bottles. This ’ere’s what comes of it. Come along, Bersicker.”

He took the wolf and locked him up in a cage, with a piece of meat that satisfied, in quantity at any rate, the elementary conditions of the fatted calf, and went off to report.

I came off, too, to report the only exclusive information that is given to-day regarding the strange escapade at the Zoo.

[magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics]

Jealous brothers - Request

Requested by anon: a sister imagine where she randomly showed up in his flat w/a companion after years of not seeing each other 'cause she's a genius agent of sort & the reason she's there is to say she's getting married & he goes on protective brother mode even getting mycroft to find out some dirt on the guy but apparently he's perfect. In the end Sher finds out the guy keeps her right. & anon: where their little sister is dating someone and neither of them deduce it because they think it's impossible for her to be so grown up, but John figures it out because he understands humans. And Sherlock and Mycroft are completely shocked and get really protective of her.

**Sister!reader**

**No incest**

Word count: 2.377

Warnings: Jelly Mycroft and Jelly Sherlock threatening very gory things.

A/N: Tom Hiddleston who? I wanted to write something light for the angsty stuff that’s coming this week. Also, how else would I express my undying crush on Tom HIddleston but by basing this character on him?

Enjoy!

“What are you doing here?” Sherlock inquired instantly as he caught sight of the girl – woman – sitting on his chair.

“Hello, brother.” She spoke sarcastically as she stood up, “I missed you too, and you look great.”

A warm smile grew on their faces and soon they were hugging. Sherlock let out a raspy chuckle and pulled away.

“It is marvellous to see you, sister.” Sherlock spoke truthfully.

“Brother? Sister?” John asked from behind Sherlock and the woman.

“John, this is my sister (Y/N). Sister, this is my friend Doctor John Watson.” Sherlock introduced them proudly, acting for once like a regular human being.

“John Watson,” she pronounced, “if everything I heard about you is true, I should call you my brother as well.”

She hugged the doctor warmly and, although John hugged her back, he couldn’t help but to mouth a “What does she mean?” to Sherlock who, of course, gave no answer.

“Does Mycroft know you are here?” Sherlock inquired once she let go off John.

“That question is awfully stupid, Sherlock.” She snapped sassily and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Of course.” He muttered, “Where is he?”

“Right here.” Mycroft spoke as he crossed the front door. The man approached his little sister, leaving a soft peck on her temple before greeting Sherlock and John like he usually did. “What brings you here, pumpkin?”

“I never expected to hear him say pumpkin.” John whispered to Sherlock, but everyone heard.

(Y/N) laughed at John’s comment before replying. “I just wanted to visit my two favourite brothers.”

“We are your only brothers… I hope.” Sherlock mumbled.

(Y/N) simply shook her head and walked to the kitchen as she explained that she had brought a cake. “Oh and Sherlock, I noticed you were experimenting with blood’s coagulation at low temperatures…” She commented listlessly.

“I am.”

“You’re doing it wrong,” and so she proceeded to explain not only the proper procedure but also the result, making Sherlock blush slightly in embarrassment.

John Watson was impressed by that new Holmes and her ability to be both Sherlock and Mycroft but also having her own essence. She would waddle around the flat looking for plates and spoons in an austere sway and he could tell that she was quite cheerful and even sensitive.

She was different from her brothers, in spite of her similarity to them.

“So what exactly do you work as?” John asked and the three Holmes remained quiet. They were sitting at the table in the kitchen; eating the cake that (Y/N) had bought.

“Let’s just say I’m a secret agent of some sort.” She replied in a whisper and continued to eat.

“Well, you are good at keeping secrets.” John continued, “I almost didn’t see your engagement ring.” Again, the three Holmes remained quiet.

“Engagement ring,” Mycroft huffed, “she is too young for that.”

“Well, technically I’m old enough to…”

“Too young, indeed.” Mycroft interrupted. “Besides, we would’ve known if she was engaged. She would behave differently.”

“Well, no offense but she does look in love.” John snapped.

“No she doesn’t.” Sherlock hissed.

“She was all jumpy and giggly while she was cutting the cake, and she wasn’t even paying attention when you told her about the current case.” John explained.

“Nobody pays attention when I explain our cases, John!”

“Yes, but she was also smiling at her phone when we got here and she is wearing a ring and…”

“Women wear rings as fashion statements, that is all.” Mycroft corrected.

“Then why is she blushing?” John inquired and both brothers snapped their heads to look at (Y/N) who was, in fact, blushing.

“(Y/N)…” Sherlock muttered as his face fell into a sad frown. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Us,” Mycroft corrected.

“I was going to… That is why I came here.” She mumbled. “I promise he is a good boy, and he protects me and…”

“And I bet you he isn’t as good as you think he is.” Mycroft fumed, “You know your spot in the British government, and you know you are a vital element of the team that keeps this nation standing. Anyone would do anything to get to you and steal all of the secrets and…”

“He is not like that,” She stated. “Go on, investigate his whole blood line if you like, I will get married.”

“I will not allow it.” Mycroft snapped.

“I’m not asking for permission.” She snapped back and got up from the table, leaving 221 B.

“We can’t allow her to do it.” Sherlock told his brother, who nodded in agreement.

“Why not? She is clearly in love and she is not a child.” Watson defended her.

“She is too young and too important for this nation to marry a spy. I shall find all of his dirty socks before she can even try on a single dress.” Mycroft finished and then he left as well.

-

John had convinced the brothers to invite (Y/N) and her fiancé over for dinner. The eldest hadn’t found a single thing pointing the man as a danger towards (Y/N), but even so Mycroft didn’t like the idea of the baby of the family being old enough to get married.

Sherlock, on the other hand, was jealous and utterly concerned. He didn’t believe in love, and was very concerned about his sister’s emotional state. When the magic disappeared, would she regret the decisions made? Perhaps, and that was something Sherlock didn’t want her to go through.

The man’s name was Thomas. He was taller than Sherlock and had dark blond curls, baby blue eyes and a smile that could charm anyone. Neither one of the Holmes brothers liked him at first sight.

“Tom, these are my brothers Sherlock and Mycroft.” She introduced them.

“Nice to meet you.” Tom smiled warmly and extended his hand to shake the brother’s. He had a tight grip, strong and firm.

“What would you say if I told you I investigated your whole life?” Mycroft inquired suddenly.

“I’d say that is odd but respectful considering I am engaged to your sister.” Tom replied with a humble voice tone.

“Tom, he did investigate you.” (Y/N) assured and the man chuckled.

“I would love to hear what you have.” He simply said.

Truth was that Thomas was the most honourable person Mycroft had ever encountered. No criminal records, no violence registered but rather loads of charity work and volunteering at so many places it was almost a sin. He had gone to a very important college in England, with a scholarship earned by his own sweat. He had graduated, gotten his master’s degree and eventually a PhD. He was highly functional but not anti-social like the Holmes brothers, and he was also considered by his friends the most charming gentleman to have ever walked on Earth.

“Nothing, I found nothing to use against you.” Mycroft confessed as they all took a seat in the assigned table. Yes, they had gone to a restaurant because neither brother wanted to give in their location – although everyone knew Sherlock’s address.

“That’s good, then.” Tom smiled again. He was too charming.

“It doesn’t mean we like you.” Mycroft snapped and (Y/N) let out a heavy sigh. Tom held her hand under the table, trying to calm her down; said gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock.

In the past, (Y/N) had had trouble with her anger management. She was usually calm, but after years of working with Mycroft, her anxiety levels reached such a high point that it was impossible for her to remain calm, or sane for that matter. They had to send her away to an ashram in India where she learned how to meditate, and then she got a job at another department where, so far, she had been able to control her rage waves.

Sherlock couldn’t blame her for losing her mind when working with Mycroft.

“Since when are you two together?” Sherlock asked.

“Almost two years. I wanted to tell you before, but (Y/N) insisted in letting you know until now.” Thomas explained. Of course, (Y/N) wanted to let them know once they couldn’t kick him out.

The dinner went by and the brothers couldn’t help but to start liking Thomas. He was very clever, intelligent, sympathetic, likeable, pleasant to talk to, lovely mannered, nice, friendly, charming… Not a single word could fully describe the kind of man Thomas was.

A real gentleman that treated (Y/N) like a princess during the whole evening, and who looked even more decent than any of the brothers. Everything he had, he had earned it with his own hard work, which was a quality Mycroft admired in people, and even when his ambitions were big, he didn’t lose the opportunity to show (Y/N) his affection towards her.

“I will go out for a smoke.” Sherlock announced.

“I shall go with you.” (Y/N) responded and both brothers left without saying a word.

(Y/N) felt bad for leaving Tom with Mycroft, but she trusted that his patience and his charm would keep him alive until Sherlock finished his cigarette.

“So?” She inquired after Sherlock lit his cigarette.

“He is nice.”  Sherlock admitted painfully.

“Nice? Is that all?” She groaned.

“I didn’t think you would like that kind of men,” Sherlock confessed. “Women tend to look for men who fit certain characteristics from their family and…”

“He is clever, just like you and he has blue eyes; he is intelligent and decent and real gentlemen like Mycroft, and he is just as light hearted and charming as dad.” She listed.

“I guess I’m just jealous, then.” Sherlock whispered. “Are you really in love?”

“I am, Sherlock, I am.” She sniffed; her eyes had watered at the simple thought. “When Moriarty was… At his highest… He attacked the building I work in. I almost die there but Tom saved me; he risked his life for me. We had gone out twice before that, and even so he did it… Then, when we started dating seriously, he got to see the anger attacks and all of the monster inside of me and, you know what?”

“What?” Sherlock asked in a tremble.

“He stood in silence while I ranted, and then he cuddled me until I was better. He dried my tears, and he listened to me… That night he told me he loved me. Can you believe it? After seeing that… Insane side of me, he still loved me.” She was now crying, “And whenever things start to go wrong, and when I am about to lose it he… He is there, and he know how to calm me down because he did research – RESEARCH – to understand what was going on with me and how to handle it… Who does that, Sherlock?”

“Clearly, men who love you.” Sherlock admitted.

“Mycroft has been attacking him all night, yet he didn’t ask me to stay there, he didn’t refuse to stay alone with Mycroft because he loves me enough to stand him…” She continued, “Sherlock, I don’t expect you to love him, but please do know that he keeps me sane.”

“I know…” Sherlock muttered, “And that is why I do accept him.”

“Do you really?” She inquired as a new light of hope grew in her eyes.

“Yes, the man is charming as hell; I had to go to bite my cheek not to smile at how wonderful he is.” Sherlock confessed, “I’m glad to know that your good taste remains… And that you found someone who is truly deserving of you, you clever mouse.”

(Y/N) said nothing. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his brother’s body, making him chuckle as yet another happy tear left his eye. He had told her the truth.

When they went back in, they caught glimpse of Mycroft laughing at something Tom had said. It was almost like a dream come true.

“So do you really accept him?” (Y/N) inquired.

“Yes, we do.” Mycroft granted.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She cheered and hugged both of her brothers tightly.

“I promise I won’t let you down.” Tom swore solemnly.

“Speaking of which… Can we have a word, Tom?” Sherlock asked and then the three men went out. (Y/N) stayed at the restaurant to ask for the check.

“What is it?” Tom asked, and his face turned pale as he realised Sherlock and Mycroft’s faces had changed suddenly.

“Mistreat her and I will cut your hands off.” Sherlock threatened.

“If you ever shout at her or make her slip a single sad tear, nobody will find your head.” Mycroft added.

“If you ever make her feel less worthy and or important than she is, I will make sure you can never ever practice intercourse, ever again.” Sherlock continued.

“Speaking of intercourse, if you are ever disrespectful and touch her without her consent, I will make sure you suffer from a Viagra over-doss.” Mycroft hissed.

“And if you ever stop treating her as nicely as you have so far, I will drop each one of your teeth with my bare hands.” Sherlock showed him his hands.

“Also, if I happen to find anything about you that you hid; any secret that could damage my sister’s dignity; I will lock you in my personal dungeon and torture you with torture no has ever been tortured with.”

“You have a personal dungeon?” Tom inquired.

“I do, would you like to visit it?” Mycroft tilted his head.

“No, I trust your word.” Tom shivered.

“And we hope we can trust yours, because if not…” Sherlock cocked an eyebrow and Tom nodded.

“I know, I will be tortured with torture no one else has been tortured with, among other things including death. I understand and I promise you I will never hurt her.” Tom spoke.

“Promises are for the weak, Tom.” Mycroft recited, “Prove it with your actions.”

“I will.”

And in fact, he did.

The brothers had no other choice but to take him in as one of the Holme’s brothers and, in time, they grew fond of him. They could finally understand why their sister had fallen in love with him; they loved to see her so happy by his side… And although the threats never ceased, they couldn’t deny that Tom was a good man.

Masterlist.

Forever Tags: @dekahg Benedicto Cabbagepatch Tags: @newts-fan-case @resurrection-huntress Sherlock Tags: @oaisara @charlottemalfoy @zena-dukmak @just-a-blog00 @wefracturedmotivation @beccamullz @sugarshai @vancepter @roseyhxnt @thisisjessicatalking @foureyedsiopao @nicole-pierce @captain-sherlockomg @kissed-by-white-wolf @samanthasmileys @love-charmer-sketch @givemeamemoryicanuse @diesintheshower @demonminnion3 @thatmoodindigo @sexyporntime @jennajoseh @destiel5100 @peachyoshi64 @1enchantedfantasy1 @thesherlockblr @yehummno

[thmcstnks-blog]

“Don’t. It’ll be alright.” Thomas overheard his mother utter into the speaker of her cellular device considering the fact he was in the same room as her. A couple hours had bypassed since Thomas had his discussion about their parents with Tommie. A discussion that in his own opinion, was pointless with his sibling because she never listened. Prior to the discussion, as far as Thomas was concerned, his mother and father were divorced. Hence the separate homes and constant back and forth. Though, it wasn’t until it was brought to his attention by his sibling that nothing had been finalized which made him wonder about their union.

Unlike his sibling, Thomas was never one to snoop or pry where his nose didn’t belong. He minded his business most times and kept out of his mother and father personal affairs. Not that it wasn’t his business, but he didn’t seem to care too much about what the two were up to. Just like them, he had his own life to tend to. However, once Tommie had brought up the fact that the two were still married by the laws of California, he couldn’t help but hatch a plan. With the two of them not being divorced and nothing being finalized, he thought for a second that maybe he could bring the two back together.

“Hey, mom.” Thomas began as he walked over to the chair in front of her desk and sat down. It was rare when he was inside her study, but he had followed her into the room from previous conversation. He decided to talk to her since she was no longer on the phone with whoever. “Have you and dad talked lately?” He inquired. As if he didn’t already know that the two of them was a touchy subject, it was made even more apparent by the way she immediately stopped what she had been doing and looked up at him. First, her expression read leave but then it suddenly softened up enough for her to respond to it.

“He’s alright and I’m alright. Why do you ask?” It wasn’t the response that Thomas expecting, which caused his left brow to raise as he shook his head. “No reason in particular. He asked about you, was all.” Thomas retorted. With no outside help nor help from Tommie, he had to move swiftly and stay in his feet so that neither of them would suspect anything. He wasn’t lying — his father did ask about their mother on a frequent basis and Thomas responded the best he could. “She’s okay.” And kept it moving. Up until that point, he never felt the need nor want to intervene in either of their lives — until now. His mother seemed interested in the response, even though she tried her hardest to let it roll off her back like she didn’t care.

Hours had passed since Thomas left his mother’s house. While he was out, he put his plan into action. His first step was making a reservation at one of their favorite restaurants. Just because he didn’t get involved in his parents lives didn’t mean he never payed attention. Novú was their parents favorite restaurant as a couple so he made a reservation and paid off the manager to close down for the night just for the two of them. Eric, Novú owner, was a rather close family friend so when Thomas needed a small favor, he didn’t hesitate to lend a helping hand. Especially, when he found out what the cause was for. His second step was getting his father out of the house which was a challenge in itself. Unless it was business, his father was a real homebody but he told him a small white lie that seemed to work.

“I don’t know why you’re trying to get me out the house, but alright son.” Was the last thing Thomas heard before he departed from the house. He couldn’t make it too known that he was up to something, so, when the time came around he stationed his Cadillac Escalade in the back of the building so that he wouldn’t be seen. Considering the fact that there was an upstairs to the restaurant, he decided to use that as a stowaway to watch the “date” from afar without being seen. He could hear them.

His mother’s dialogue

….

I cannot believe that boy, but that’s our son. He’s a product of you, you know. Oh, boy. I haven’t been here in years. Not even on a casualty or business meeting. It’s such a romantic place, you know? Even during the daytime. It’s not for leisure. You come here with someone that you love. Do you remember when you brought me here for the first time and proposed? The song that played on the radio we—we just loved it. We played it at our wedding, made it our song. What happened to us? We used to be so in love. We even had two beautiful children. You know, I’ve been thinking about the divorce.

From Thomas’ point of view

….

For Thomas, that was the icing on the cake. It seemed as though his plan was running smoothly just based off of the simple fact neither of them had left or threw hurtful words at one another. It reminded him of things used to be. Before all of the arguing, yelling, verbal abuse, and eventually the split of houses. He remained quiet so that he could overhear what his father was going to respond with.

His father’s dialogue

….

Oh, sweetheart. Who really knows where the time goes. I’ve been here but only for business, as you stated. Nothing in particular. I must admit — I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us. I know our relationship ended rocky but what do you say? Let’s rip up the paperwork. We’ll see a marriage counselor and rebuild. Truth be told, dear, I’m not ready to step back out into the dating scene. You’re truly the love of my life. I can’t imagine seeing you with anyone else. And I don’t want our son or daughter thinking it’s okay to quit in spite of hard times.

He had heard enough. Not that it was making him mad but it was touching to hear the two reconnecting. He thought that his plans would fall through but it seemed to have worked out better than expected. “Mom, dad.” Thomas uttered loudly as he walked down the swirl staircase and over to their table. “My bad, I didn’t mean to lie or trick either of you. I just wanted to see if you still have feelings for each other and it seems like you do.” A breath escaped his nostrils as he completed his sentence and looked at the both of them for a response. “It’s okay, baby.” His mother started. “I think we should have a discussion. As a unit, a family. I’m going to take what your father here has said into consideration and we’ll talk about it then. But I have work in the morning, so does your father, and you have school. So, we all need to be heading home. Oh, I enjoyed the dinner.”

With all of that being said, Thomas exited the building apart from his parents and headed out to his vehicle. Granted that everyone in the family had their own transportation, he just had the choice of picking whose house he’d be sleeping in for the night. He decided that while Tommie stayed at their mother’s, he’d head back to his father’s. In no less than twenty minutes, he was walking into his father’s abode, closing and locking the door behind him as he walked into the living room to see his father seated on the couch. “Son, come have a seat. I want to talk.”

An exhausted Thomas walked down the step and over to the couch, taking a seat beside his father. To say that he was tired was an understatement. He needed his rest for school the next day and his father knew that, but Thomas knew better than to neglect a father-son talk. “W'sup, pops?” Thomas uttered. “Listen, son. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did with your girlfriend or whatever the case may be. I love your mother to death and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to rebuild with her so that we can all be one again, okay? I appreciate what you did. You’re a real man, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” With the completion of his sentence, Thomas was pulled into a warm embrace for a long moment. “I hear you, love you dad.” Was all that he responded with before standing to his feet from the couch afterwards.

“Go upstairs. Get you some rest for school tomorrow.” Thomas nodded his head, waved to his father, and trudged up the staircase and down the elonged hallway down to his bedroom. One thing handled and on to the next. His parents were no longer an issue or something he had to worry about, but now, he had to make amends with his sibling. Lord knows he didn’t want to but he knew it’d be the right thing to do. He didn’t bother undressing, laying out his clothes for the next day, or any further preparations. He simply laid across his bed and fell asleep, allowing his mind to clear and drift off to sleep.

[ask-the-chan-family]

Nova surprised her older brother

Outside at the canterlot royal gardens, Princess Celestia and Luna are having some quality tea time with Thomas and his daughter Dashie writer. Dashie and Luna were both having a conversation while eating cake at the same time, but as for Thomas and Princess Celestia, the both of them were acting nervous with each other and haven’t said a word the whole entire time. Thomas was looking at his tea and try to come up an ideal conversation with Princess Celestia, but whenever he thought up something, it round up making him feel like a fool. But Thomas was able to build up the confident to talk to her, when he look at Princess Celestia and was about to say something important, one of Celestia royal servant stop by and got her attention first. Servant: greeting your majesty, I’m sorry to interrupt your tea party, but you have a very important letter that you need to read at once. Princess Celestia: where the letter came from? Servant: it came from the canterlot embassy, there some issue going on and they need both the two princess sisters at once. Princess Luna: *she gulp a big piece of cake* what kind of problem that need the both of us, can’t they solve it on their own once in a while. Princess Celestia: *she look at the message* I’m afraid not Luna, said here that a few visitors from a faraway land are having some argument with the members of the embassy, if we don’t go and solve this. Princess Luna: I know, I know, there be an all-out conflict. For once can we have a nice peaceful tea party, without any problems all the time? Princess Celestia: not everything is perfect my dear sister, I’m so sorry about this Tommy wommy, I wanted this little party just the four of us, but it look like I’m needed at the embassy Thomas the writer: it’s no problem Tia, it was nice while it lasted. Princess Celestia: but I feel terrible that I have to leave right in the middle of our tea party, there got to be at least something I can do for you later Dashie writer: hey Dad, why not let Celestia plan a birthday party for you. Thomas the writer: *he place his hooves on Dashie head* Dashie I didn’t want Tia know about it Princess Celestia: a birthday party? Thomas the writer: yeah, today is actually my birthday. I wasn’t going to say nothing about it, but thanks to Dashie, she said it for me Dashie writer: *she blush* sorry dad, but you know I sometimes can’t help it Princess Celestia: oh dear, I didn’t know it was your birthday today, you should have told me about it, I could had done something special for you Thomas the writer: I know Tia, but we both know we’re busy all the time and beside a birthday party is not a big of deal to me anymore. Princess Celestia: *she use her magic and grab Thomas and then give him a hug* nonsense my dear Tommy wommy, once I’m done with this little problem at the embassy, we’ll have a big party for your birthday. Thomas the writer: are you sure about that Tia, a simple party would be fine, just the three of us and our son Sunset. Princess Celestia: that is out of the question, nothing simple for my beloved husband, now excuse us, Luna and I are running late and we need to get going. Princess Luna: I prefer we stay and let us eat cake Princess Celestia: …………… Princess Luna: but like Tia said, duty calls So Princess Celestia and Luna both left the garden and head for the embassy, Thomas place his head on the table and sigh a little of what just happened, Dashie notice that her dad was feeling sad and she does her best to cheer him up. Dashie writer: is everything alright dad? Thomas the writer: …. Sigh, everything is fine Dashie, I just wish you didn’t told Tia that today was my birthday Dashie writer: oh come on dad, I wanted to let everyone know that today is my father birthday and I’m happy to celebrate it with you. Thomas the writer: thanks Dashie, but I kinda was hoping just a simple birthday party, nothing big or fancy, just a simple birthday party with the ponies I care about. Dashie writer: I understand Dad, I kinda forget you like things simple things, but you of all ponies that done so much for everyone, deserve something big on your special day and you know what, I go out and get you a cool birthday gift for you dad. Thomas the writer: but what about helping me at the book shop today, you know that Sunset broken one of his leg during an inventory accident at the shop Dashie writer: I know dad, but I might be a little busy searching for you a perfect gift. I be back soon and help work double time at the shop later Just when he try to talk to her, Dashie was already gone and he was by himself. Thomas look at his cup of tea and take a few sip of it, once he done with his tea, he plan to head out to the canterlot square and work at the book shop. After a few sip, he place the tea cup on the table and start planning to leave the royal garden. When he walk away from the table he notice that one of Princess Celestia royal maids was walking pass him, he notice that her mane was covering most of her face, making it a lot harder for him to see. When the maid reach the table to clean up the mess, Thomas notice the maid cutie mark and it look like a mirror, Thomas recognize that cutie mark from anywhere and the only one particular pony that have it, is always then to be in the area, without being invited. The maid continue cleaning the table, she pick up Thomas tea cup and place it in her apron pocket. Once she got the got the tea cup, she continue walking away from the table and head back to the castle. Thomas fly over to the maid and landed in front of her. The maid was a little startle to see him came out of nowhere, she wasn’t sure what Thomas was up to, but she did her best to relax and see what he needed from her. Maid: oh pardon me good sir, I didn’t know that you was standing in front of me. Thomas the writer: it quite alright miss, it was my fault for standing in front of you like that, because you see when you was cleaning the table I was sitting at, I notice that you had an very interesting cutie mark that look like a mirror Maid: my cutie mark you say, what so interesting about it Thomas the writer: well you see, my little sister Nova have the exact same cutie mark like yours and every now and then my sister then to come around the castle to cause trouble, while designing herself as other ponies Maid: ……. And you’re thinking I could be that pony you’re talking about, right Thomas the writer: ok Nova enough fun and game now, show yourself or I will say something embarrassing that you did, when you was little Maid: but sir, I’m not really your little Thomas the writer: your favorite teddy bear Mr. pansy pants Maid: …….. Hey, it not pansy pants, its Mr. Fancy Pants, like that pony you spoke to at a fancy dinner party with Princess Thomas the writer: …………. Maid: darn it big brother, every time you do that to me with my favorite teddy bear Thomas the writer: can’t help it when I know how to trick you every time, now are you going to change to your original form or what Nova Maid: yeah, yeah, just give me a second to change The maid use her magic which her whole body started to glow, one minute she was an average pony, into a demon like pony which everyone know her as Nova. After her transformation, Nova stretch her leg a little bit, knowing the body form she was in was a little short for her to use. Nova: man it good to be me again, have you any idea how hard it was to be in that form, especially when I made myself a little shorter than usual Thomas the writer: well you’re the one pick that form Nova, not me and beside why you picked as one of Princess Celestia maid, instead of something else that would be easy for you Nova: don’t know, I been curious of how I look in a French maid uniform, plus I was kinda hopping that outfit I was wearing, would get your attention big brother Thomas the writer: …. *blush* it kinda did, make me curious if Princess Celestia would wear one in front of me one day. But any case, what are you doing here anyway, you know the last time you was here, Celestia banish you for the chaos you done at one of her royal dinner party, with a few very important ponies that were visiting. Nova: first off big brother, I turn that boring party of hers, into an interesting one that everyone will talk about all year round, secondly do you think I care what that fancy pansy princess say *she start to walk around where her brother is standing* but if you need to know why I’m doing here, I’m here to celebrate my big brother birthday. Thomas the writer: wait, you came here to celebrate my birthday, I didn’t know that you remember Nova: of course I did, what type of sister would forget her big brother birthday like that Thomas the writer: the type of sister that stole a few pieces of birthday cake, while I try to blow out the candle. Nova: … ok so I tend to act a little bad around your birthday every year, but this time it different Thomas the writer: really, how so? Nova: *she walk away from her brother and sat down on the floor as well* you see big brother, there is something I been wanting to tell you something very important Thomas the writer: if this is about you falling in love with me Nova, you know I love, because you’re my little sister and nothing more than that. Also I’m married to Tia now. Nova: ……. Ugh, come on big brother, why you always have to ruin the moment. Look it nothing to do with that, even though I’m still love you more than being brother and sister, which one day I will have you, but that not what I want to tell you Thomas the writer: ok then, so what was it you want to tell me? Nova: ………… sigh, you see big brother, I was married before and I never had the chance tell you about it. Thomas the writer: wait, you was married? Nova: yes Thomas the writer: my little sister was able to get a colt in her life, without using any magic to mess around his mind. Nova: hey, I can easily get anyone I like, I just prefer you better than anyone else. Thomas the writer: whatever you say Nova. So the colt you married before, what was he like? Nova: he was an interesting guy, at first when I met him at one of mother royal parties, he was everything I ever wanted. But he wasn’t exactly what I really wanted Thomas the writer: what was it you wanted? Nova: I want a colt to be someone like you, kind, heroic, willing to listen to me whenever I’m in a bad mood. I want someone like that, all those traits that you have. Thomas the writer: ….. Sigh, Nova, it nice that you want someone to be more like me, but you can’t just divorce someone just because they aren’t Nova: there isn’t any big brother, my husband and I had a good few hundred year’s relationship. He gave me everything I ever wanted, but I wasn’t satisfied. Thomas the writer: what more you want from him or was it something else Nova: I don’t know big brother, usually I know what I really wanted, and mainly one of them is you Thomas the writer: what make you say that? Nova: come on big brother, you know how mother is. She always want more from us, but the reality truth of it all, that she only care what satisfied for her. Which is why I left my husband and try to do things on my own, like you had. Thomas the writer: …… I see, so you ran away from everything, just so you can try to find the very happiness you been searching for. Nova: that right big brother and you’re the happiness I been searching for a long time. The one that took care of me when dad too busy to watch over us *she hug him* and you’re the only one that I’m willing to fight for your love, no matter how much you want to denied it. Thomas the writer: ……… sigh, how long you been feeling this way Nova? Nova: for a long time big brother, I just kept it to myself, because I didn’t want you to hate me or stop talking to me, after what I did to your daughter back at the Chan world. Thomas the writer: you mean the time you stab Dashie with a knife and almost die from her wounds Nova: …….. Yeah Thomas the writer: what you did to Dashie is something I would never forgive you and you know that well Nova: I do big brother, which is why I won’t blame you for hating me, but the way how I feel for you big brother is the full truth and nothing more than that Thomas the writer: I know that Nova, but you must understand that we are sibling, you’re my little sister that like to get into trouble all the time, but I’m always happy to be your brother. But you got to remember that I fell in love with Princess Celestia and we are both married now. Nova: ……… Thomas the writer: …. Sigh, Nova, I’m happy you finally told how much you feel for me and I’m proud you found the confident to say it. But please remember this one thing I’m going to tell you Nova: oh yeah, what that you going to *before she could even finish her sentence, Thomas kiss her on the forehead, which make Nova face all blush* Thomas the writer: it may not be the special kiss that you always wanted, but it the least I can do to cheer you up a little Nova: you … you actually kiss me, but what about the whole thing about being sibling Thomas the writer: you’re still my little sister Nova and nothing will change that, but always remember that I always love you no matter what, even if our life are different. Nova use her hooves to touch her forehead and feel the warmth kiss she gotten from her brother, she smile a little bit and then started to cry. Thomas was surprise to see his little sister crying, he was about to check up on her, but Nova hug her brother once more, thanking him for what she been wanting for a long time. Nova: thank you big brother, thank you so much for giving me the greatest gift. Thomas the writer: no problem at all Nova, even though it my birthday, but seeing you happy, is the best gift ever. Nova: well big brother I know I said I was stopping by to see you on your birthday, but I do have one big surprised that you might like Thomas the writer: really, what kind of Shina: hey mom, can we stop using our invisibility already, I’m getting board of doing nothing. Tilda: Shina, mom said that we need to stay quiet, or else we ruin the surprised Shina: but Tilda, I’m so board and you know how I am, when I do nothing for more than a minute Mira: look at the bright side sis, Shina was able to wait more than a minute without breaking something for once Shina: are you trying to make fun of me? Thomas the writer: Nova, did you hear voices? Mira: oh please little, if I were making fun of you, I would have done it a lot better Nova: …….. Sigh, yes big brother and I have to admit, those three little voices are doing a bad job of staying quiet. Tilda: girls, I think we are busted Mira: how can you tell? Nova: Shina, Mira and Tilda, get over here, right this second Tilda: that answer your question? Mira: it does and mom is really mad. Come on girls, let do what mom said. The three bat ponies fly over to where Nova is standing and landed in front of her. Thomas was trying to see who they were, but all he is seeing was three invisible figure. Thomas the writer: Nova, the three invisible being are your ghost friends Nova: you well know I don’t deal with ghost, except that one time I dated a ghost and left me with someone better, no these aren’t ghosts big brother, these three invisible figure are actually my daughters Thomas the writer: your daughters Nova: ok girls, you can appear in front of him now They heard what their mom and the three bat pony remove their invisibility spell and appear in front of him. Thomas was looking at three bat pony and was surprised to see them, all three of them look at Thomas and bow to say hello Shina, Mira, Tilda: greeting and happy birthday Uncle Thomas. Thomas the writer: hello to you too as well, what are your names, if I don’t mind asking Mira: my name is Mira, I’m the elder of the three bat pony sisters and I want to say I’m honor to finally meet you in person Uncle Thomas, mom told us a lot about you and I was excited to see that you’re everything she said you are. Thomas the writer: what sort of thing she said about me Nova: *she walk over to Mira side and hold her mouth, before she say anything* oh you know big brother, just simple mother and daughter stuff we say to each other. Thomas the writer: ….. Ok then *he notice the little pink bat pony was flying around him and landed on his back* well hello young one, you might be the youngest one of the three sisters are you Shina: that right, my name is Shina and I like to collect tea cup and tea set. Nova: oh speaking of tea cup *she grab the tea cup from her apron and show it to her* here you go Shina, I got you the tea cup you wanted Shina: *she jump off from Thomas back and fly towards her mother, to receive the tea cup* oh wow, it one of Princess Celestia royal tea cup, it super hard to get one of these from any normal shop. Nova: well lucky for you Shina, that you have an awesome mother that got connection of finding stuff for you. Shina: *she hug her* thank you mom, I like it a lot Nova: … sigh, no problem at all Thomas smile to see that his little sister was acting like a mother to her daughter, instead of being the sneaky little sister. When he look away from them for a moment, he notice the third bat pony with black and silver strip mane was looking at him, not saying a single word. Thomas wasn’t sure if she wanted something, but he try to say hello to her. Thomas the writer: oh hello there, you must be the middle sister of the three Tilda: that right Uncle Thomas, my name is Tilda and I kinda wanted to ask you a very important question Thomas the writer: ok, what you want to ask me Tilda: even though mom is your little sister, is it possible that you marry her, so she can be happy Thomas the writer: *blush* come again Nova: Tilda, I told you to never ask your Uncle that silly question Tilda: but mom, I though you wanted Uncle Thomas to marry you, you been wanting that since you been thinking about it for a long time, you also said that you Nova: ok, that enough from you young lady. Sorry big brother, Tilda sometimes have a big imagination Thomas the writer: *he laugh* no problem Nova, she remind me a lot from you, even Mira and Shina as well Nova: thank big brother, that a big compliment coming from you Thomas the writer: no problem, but you do relies that you got a lot of explaining to do, whenever we got time together Nova: are you sure you don’t want to talk about it now Thomas the writer: believe me Nova I do, but I sense Princess Celestia, Luna and Dashie are on their way back here and knowing your reputation between you and Tia, it not very good. Nova: point taken, alright girls, it time for us to go Mira: already mom, we just got here Shina: yeah, I want to hang out with Uncle a little more Tilda: me too Nova: you girls will, but right now is not a good time, also I did keep my promise to take you girls for ice cream Shina Mira, Tilda: ice cream All three of them fly over to their mother side and prepare themselves to leave. Nova look at her daughter and then back to her big brother, to say a few words before she leave. Nova: happy to see you again big brother Thomas the writer: me too Nova, you and your daughters visit have been one of the best birthday I had in awhile Nova: well I hope you enjoy it big brother, I be coming by to see you more often, just so I can entertain you, if the princess get too boring. Thomas the writer: I think I be fine Nova, now take good care of yourself ok, especially your daughters Nova: I will big brother, oh and Thomas Thomas the writer: yeah Nova Nova: ……… forget it, you might have a decent idea of what I going to say to you Thomas the writer: yeah and you already know my answer too Nova: *blush* yeah Thomas and Nova both stood quiet for a little while, not saying another word, Nova was plan to say one little thing to him, until her youngest daughter Shina jump on her back, saying ice cream a few time. Mira and Tilda try to grab their little sister from their mother back, but Shina was very slippery and kept on dodging them. Nova was really annoyed of what going and sigh to herself, instead of yelling. Nova use her magic to open a portal and both her and her daughter vanish, without a trace. Thomas laugh to himself a little bit, knowing that his little sister going to have her hooves filled dealing with her daughter, but part of him is proud that Nova became a decent mother to them and knew someday that she be more responsible in life. After enjoying Nova and her daughters company, Thomas notice that Princess Celestia and Luna were flying towards him, he also notice that both of them were arguing at each other and Thomas only guess, that it got to be something silly. When the both of them finally reach their destination, they continue on arguing, until Thomas spoke to one of them and see what going on. Thomas the writer: alright you two, what are you arguing this time and it better not be something ridiculous Princess Celestia: come now tommy wommy, not all our argument are ridiculous Princess Luna: I beg the differ Tia, especially when I ask you about my box of cookies and you lied about eating them. Princess Celestia: I said I was sorry Luna Princess Luna: I know you are, but still haven’t replace them Thomas the writer: ladies, focus please. You two fight more, than me and my mother. Now would you mind tell me what you were arguing about, so we can talk about it, as adults Princess Luna: Tia and I were arguing about what we should do for your birthday Princess Celestia: after we dealt with that little situation at the council meeting, I wanted us to do a birthday party for you, but Luna think we don’t have time for that Princess Luna: that because we don’t, we need to get a lot of stuff for a party and by the time we were done with that little problem, the day was almost halfway done. Princess Celestia: have you forgotten who have the ability to move the sun. Thomas the writer: we haven’t Tia, but that be abusing your powers, to make the day longer and we don’t want to have that same incident like Luna. No offense Princess Luna: none taken Thomas Princess Celestia: humph, at least I thought of something, other than a simple dinner at a restaurant Thomas the writer: that sound like a good idea Princess Luna: that what I said to her, but Tia think it was too simple Princess Celestia: that right Luna, this is Thomas birthday we are celebrating, not a simple get together Thomas the writer: well actually a simple dinner party would be Princess Luna: you always want something big, instead of simple Tia and a big party isn’t always the answer Princess Celestia: it is to me Princess Celestia and Luna stare each other for a moment, not paying much attention to Thomas. While Thomas watch the craziness, Dashie stop by from her shopping and check up on her dad, until she notice a little commotion going on. Dashie writer: hey dad, should I need to know what going on here Thomas the writer: part of me would say yes, but after dealing with Nova and her daughters, it not really a big deal right now Dashie writer: wait a second, Nova was here and she had kids? Thomas the writer: it’s a long story, but if you want to chat, I know a really good café place that Valo, Prosecutie and I go to in canterlot Dashie writer: oh I been wanting to try that place sometimes, do they serve really god dessert Thomas the writer: most defiantly, you could even say, that their pound cake, can really knock you out *he laugh* Dashie writer: ….. Augh dad, you really had to tell a really bad pun like that Thomas the writer: hey every pun, need their just dessert Dashie writer: another one really Thomas the writer: what can I say, I’m on the cinnamon roll *he laugh* Dashie writer: please stop dad, your already embarrassing me and we not even out yet. So Dashie and Thomas step out from the castle, while the two princess sister continue arguing like not tomorrow. Even though Thomas wish that his day would be a normal, but a family like his, there always be something special will happen. The End Thomas the writer: finally got this little story done, I was working on this old story for a silly thing for my birthday years ago, but never had the chance to finish it. Now I finally got it done and it turn out pretty good, hope you all like the story as much I did. special guest character Shina, Mira and Tilda the three bat pony sister: ask prosecutie

[probably-lucifer]

I WROTE A THING FOR MY UNIVERSE JUMPERS AU THING

This is my character’s diary of her life to help build Who she is and Whatnot

Entry #1

Okay so since I hate the phrase Dear Diary as I've seen it far too many times in ALL the movies about teenaged girls (Side note, most girls don't actually have diaries, I literally only have one because my therapist suggested it sooooo.) and I happen to be a teenaged girl sixteen-aged girl, in fact, I'm going to write something else, because if I managed to find someone that cares about me enough to read all the way from, whenever I've died, then that, that would be, nice.

So, To Whom It May Concern, I cut my hair shorter today, and I feel so much better about this style so I might keep it for

Entry #34

To whom it may concern,

My therapist is suggesting I write down the daydreams I experience sometimes so I can look over them and maybe even turn them into something. Sometimes it seems like he's the only one that wants me to succeed. I bought a laptop with mother's money, it's hard to call her "mom" doesn't feel right, and I've just finished writing about the girl with wings that had magic so she could visit a town underwater, it was a nice place and

Entry #78

To whom it may concern,

Thomas The Therapist just helped me get into college, I'm so glad I started going to therapy, I've kicked most my bad habits AND I'm doing more to keep my area clean so that

Entry #100

To whomever,

Today is a down day, dad left today so I guess that's why, but you'd think I'd be over that by now. I'm not. Thomas let me skip today's session but in exchange, I have to write out my feelings and stuff, so ya'know I told moms and they gave me a letter from him, he left because mom gave him an ultimatum. Stop drinking or leave and he didn’t think he was strong enough. Mom told me he used to be very BAD and that he gave my that scar under the back of my ribcage before she made him leave

Entry #200

Guys you are not going to fucking believe this, so mom gets home from the grocery store right, and other mom (Mother, I used to call her mother) comes laughing into my room, dudes, someone thought they were fucking siblings, like, oh my gods no, they are way too affectionate with each other (And sometimes me, sometimes we cuddle and watch horror movies and it's, nice.) to be sisters okay like that'd be so

Entry #251

To whom it may concern,

I did it. I have officially moved out of my mom's place and into my own. It's got an attic room with a window seat, AND AND it's a Victorian Style house and it is HUGE, there's an office with lots of natural lighting for my writing, and the rooms are awesome and huge, and the basement is all open and ugh, I love this house, I'm hiring a gardener ASAP because I want fruit and flowers and

Entry #271

Uh, so, I just got a call, and uh, I'm on a plane to go see my moms, they're in intensive care because of some kind of car accident it seemed, so, yeah...

Entry #272

They're not gonna make it

Entry #273

They didn't make it

Entry #274

I haven't left my moms' room in a month but Eric, the cool butler guy, has been bringing me stuff, so that's nice

Entry #275

I wish we got to hug more. Mom (mother's) hugs were always like warm milk and honey and ma's (Not mother's) hugs were like strawberry sunshine.

Entry #276

Adeline, the woman moms' left their company in the hands of is really good at what she does, and her intentions are great, but, she said that I have Mom's smile and I had a really bad panic attack but she helped me by making me count out of order

Entry #277

Thomas passed in his sleep. He didn't feel a thing they say, we're helping with the funeral costs. Least we could do

Entry #278

I started going to a different coffee shop every day but none of these taste like ma's did.

Entry #279

So I met a girl at a coffee shop and her hair was electric blue and we traded numbers

Entry #280

Vienna, blue hair girl, saw me at my new therapist (Whose name is Maria, and reminds me of that something I saw when I visited that Mexican temple with moms once before, can't remember what though) and I found out that she goes to Maria's brother Paul for therapy, and we talked and somehow, I have plans for tonight at 8

Entry #290

To whom it may concern,

I think I could fall in love with Vienna, if I wanted, I think I could fall in love with the way she slips into and out of accents as easily as I, or the way she always leaves her incredibly long hair down when she's outside to "Feel the wind", or the way she smiles and I think that even the sun doesn't shine that bright or the way she dances as though she is apart of the music, and

Entry #300

I'm in Vienna Austria with Vienna and she "hates" loves it, it's so warm here. Adeline helped me set it up in exchange I have to meet with an investor tomorrow. Blegh. But still worth it. We will be traveling around the world for the next six months and I am so glad that Vienna works online so that we can you don't even know

Entry #301

I said I love you during sex and Vienna cried and said it back and we cuddled for like, six hours. No day will ever top this in my life.

Entry #401

Remember when I said nothing will ever top hat day? I was right. Vienna is gone, and I can't find her. Anywhere. I don't know what happened, we were going to move in together. I, did I do something wrong? I hope, at least, that she's okay and happy, but I don't, get it? What did I

Entry #404

Okay so, Adeline is helping me move on from Vienna with work, and I'm grateful, but I cannot spend another day in this fucking office, I will staple Stacy from financings mouth shut if she makes one more remark" about my mother.

Entry #426

Stacy was fired today and I'm taking Adeline out for a drink in celebration!!

Entry #427

I feel like shit but I gotta get dressed for this meeting blegh, I'm just gonna wear my black skinny jeans and a sweater today. Fite me.

Entry #427.2

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUhhhhm. So. Adeline. I ate out Adeline...…………. UUUUUUUUUUMMMM

Entry #427.3

We are getting lunch in a minute and I can't tell if the tension is sexual or awkward

Entry #427.4

We flirted!!!!!!!!

Entry #427.5

IM MAKING US DINNER TONIGHT OH MY GOD

Entry #427.6

BTW It was, in fact, sexual tension.

Entry #428

She made breakfast and I almost cried because it was honey cakes like Mom used to make and they were so good

Entry #458

Sooooo, Adeline said I love you and I couldn't say it back but she wasn't mad and we hugged and cried on each other and in exchange, I made her dinner which was lemon herb pasta with spinach and we ate like, the whole pot on accident. Oops?

Entry #476

I said it back today! I said I love you! I did it!

Entry #492

Found a new recipe for a super fucking moist chocolate cake with blackberry filling and we made it and I think we orgasmed whoa

Entry #527

So for my birthday, Adeline is taking me on a tour of temples in Mexico until we find the one moms took me too when I was like, 17 and I love her so much my heart bursts every time I think about her, is this healthy???

Entry #529

We found it!! I was even given a gift by the local shaman who watches over the temple!!!! It's a beautiful scepter thing, Adeline said we could probably drive it up if I felt better about it that way and honestly where would I be without this women? She's so organized and smart and pretty and awesome and

SO what do you guys think??

[drlindamurraytenacity-blog]

WHAT FOLLOWS IS A BOOK - COMPLETELY UNEDITED-- TO READ THE EARLIEST ENTRIES GO TO THE OLDEST BLOGS © Dr Linda Murray “I to you will open the book of a black sin deep printed in me my disease lies in my soul” . . . Thomas Decker in The Noble Spanish Soldier. . .   Book, “The Silkworm” - Robert Galbrath Grade ‘3' Saying ‘3'-----When I left Scotland in December 1963, 1 was half way through grade 3. Desmond was in grade 2 and Kevin was struggling in day care. When we reached Winnipeg my father had us enrolled in a Catholic school with nuns in habit teaching. In our appropriate grade levels as they were in Scotland. This turned out not to be as smooth as he thought it would be. I remember a very bad day at the hands of these nuns. They could be brutal. All of us had clear Scottish accents and the teacher was having a tough time understanding me. On one of these occasions, I was reciting numbers and she kept stopping me at the number '3'. She made a big deal out of my pronunciation. Three had an ‘R’ in it so I obviously rolled my Rs and she kept trying to correct me. She made a huge deal out of this in front of class. Desmond was also having trouble with his accent. These nuns were cruel and called my father to talk. According to the nuns, we were not as emotionally developed as the other children in the grades we were in and we were having language problems because of our accents. We were possibly a little more needy than our classmates but given our experiences during the last three years it wouldn't be a big surprise. In my opinion some TLC would have helped us out instead we were demoted a grade. Where the nuns said we should be because of our ages. Then my father moved and we went to a different school. Near the end of this school year and my father got married we moved into our house in Fort Gary and another grade three class. I spent time in four grade three classes in a one year time frame “For darkness restores what cannot be repaired.” . . . Joseph Brodsky M-I-C-K-E-Y  M-O-U-S-E-----I have a very clear memories of watching the Mickey Mouse Club on TV when I was 8 or 9 years old. I liked the show because I remembered it from being younger in Scotland. Watching just made me feel better somehow. Like I was still connected to my old home. The home my mother lived in. It's funny I did not think of this connection till recently. We were also allowed to watch Disney on Sunday nights while eating dinner. I wanted to belong to that Club but I never told anyone until much later when our neighbours boys were in my life. It is funny though. When I won a trip to Orlando Florida I insisted that we spend I day in Disney, more on this later. Sick From Soup------My father was lousy cook. But he had to make lunch for us before he got married and after he let the nanny go. He had a blender and he was too cheap to pay for canned soups. This was a known fact even to me at the time dried Chicken soup existed then. His blender was the blender from hell. He used to try to create soup for us for lunch. You would not believe the stuff he threw into that blender in the name of soup. I was usually the first person to try the soup he would ‘cook’. Some of them I could tolerate and I ate but the boys were not as receptive. One day, I tried his latest concoction but it was brutal. Even I couldn't eat it nor could I keep it down. The boys were not forced to eat it that day like on most other days he cooked. If I wouldn’t eat it must be bad because. I would eat almost anything he cooked. At the time I did not want to hurt his feelings. Once again I became my father’s keeper. I felt responsible for his problems his needs and the needs of my brothers. Sharing Skis------One day I remember going up to the Highlands of Scotland with my father and his friends. We were skiing. I clearly remember skiing on the back of my fathers skis. I loved to ski even though I had not done so on my own. There was just something about the sport. I guess it could have been because I was alone on the skis with my father. Whether it was the sport itself or the good memories with my father I am not sure. Sometime near when my father and stepmonster married we actually went to a ski hill and tried skiing. This was the first time I remember having a recreational day with my father in a very long time. My father was not one to waste money, especially on children. I remember he rented one set of boots and skis for Desmond and I to share. Talk about cheap. We had to trade off approximately every half hour. I loved skiing and took to it very quickly. I was learning how to bob up and down on the bunny hill. What a rush. But I would just get started and I would have to give the skis to my brother. I think he liked it too but we both hated having to share the set of skis. I am not sure why this was such a problem for the two of us. But it is possibly because we were also having to get used to sharing our father with her. Its funny when I go back and think through these memories as an adult. I still love skiing and there will be more on this later. 185  Osborne Street----When we were living the Osborne Village long before it was trendy we had to cross Osborne Street to get to our school. We also walked on Osborne Street for a few blocks. On this street there was what you called a five and dime store. They carried candies and children's stuff much like the Dollar Stores do today. I started going into the store. There was a ‘nice’ old man who owned the store and he lived in the rooms behind the store front. Having spent so much time in my gran's store I felt safe and it helped me get over some of the loss and loneliness I was feeling. The old man used to give me candy. You all know where this is going now. I was a prime target for this paedofile. I look back and I realized that he capitalized on his being my grandfather’s age and candy like in my gran’s store. The store door even had a bell on it like my gran's store. His interactions with me started off pretty harmless but within a few weeks he was used to me coming in and sitting on his lap eating candy. Then he had me come into the back rooms to show me something. I cant remember what now. But, then he became a lot bolder getting me to lie with him on the bed then he moved on top of me. Before I knew it he had me pinned on the bed and was forcing himself inside me. I kept saying no but he wouldn't listen. Suddenly that bell went from the front door. Someone came into the shop. I was saved by the bell on the door. He had to get up. And I ran out of the store. Never to return. I never told anyone about this till I told my psychologist in the late 1990s. I never did anything about this until the late 1990s. More on this later. Stealing----Shortly after being molested, when we were still living on Stradbrook I started to hang around with another Kim and her friend. One day we were outside the drug store on Osborne street, the store with the big rounded window in the front, and we had no money for candy.  The company now in the building was “The Cheese Cake Factory”. I am not sure how I was the one to go into the store but I was. They wanted me to steal some candy. OK! I was going to try this. I felt fearless. I figured in the sphere of all that has happened to me, this was nothing. So in I went and the salesperson started to talk to me. So I backed up into the rack of candies and with my hands behind my back I grabbed a bag of toffees and stuffed them into the back of my clothing. I did this while I was talking to the sales girl no less. I wasn't a bad kid or anything. I knew it was wrong. I knew what the consequences would be if I was caught and I did it anyway. I needed to impress these kids more than I was afraid of the belt when my father found out. I left the store sick to my stomach but I had the bag of toffee. The kids were amazed that I could do that while I was talking to the salesperson. So was I. I did not steal anything else until I had no money to eat, later on in life. This was also the last time I would do something I knew was wrong to make friends. Cleaning With The Nanny-----When my father decided to leave Scotland for Canada he hired a nanny to take care of us kids. He brought her to Canada with him. The local newspaper ran a story on us in November 1962 and in the story, under our pictures, he advertized for a live in nanny to go to Canada with us. He told us later that he picked a nanny that he was not the least bit attracted to so there was no chance he would land up with this uneducated person. I learned that my father was an education snob. For her, it was an opportunity to become a landed immigrant. She would not have had this opportunity because of her lack of education. She took care of us whenever we were out of school and my father was at work and took care of the apartment. I am not sure of her last name but her first name was Jean Niven? She had to share a room with me. My father said she was lazy. I remember that when we moved into the apartment we found a box of make up in the porch and we were excited to play with all of it. Somehow she thought that this was a bad idea and she took custody of the useable makeup. I have some very positive memories of her. Whenever she waxed the floors. Especially in the hallway. She would tie rags around our bare feet and we would race down the hall cleaning the waxed floor. We were normally not allowed to run in the apartment. But she said if we didn't tell, our father didn't need to know. This nanny also taught us how to make plaster-of-Paris maracas with old light bulbs. This was great fun. I wonder how we would have faired if she had stayed with us instead of stepmonster. My father thought that she was lazy and let her go shortly before he remarried. I think that we would have had a much better life with her in it, rather than the stepmonster. At least she was never nasty to us and tried to ameliorate my fathers strictness. I often wonder what happened to her. If you are out there Jean get in touch I would love to get your perspective on the way things were. Shirley and Sheila----When I was about nine years old my father met Shirley and Sheila F. They were twins and they were both working as nurses in the Misericordia Hospital. They also lived together. Dad started dating Shirley, soon to be the ‘stepmonster’.  Much later in time Sheila also married a widower with three kids. And she managed to isolate the man from his children also just like our stepmonster managed to do with us three. Even worse in our case we did not have Mike as our father. I loved this man, he was so gentle, he clearly loved his children, and even more he was not the authoritarian my father was.  Unfortunately, even Mike could not save his children. Luckily they had their mother much longer than we had. Dad, Shirley, and Sheila were fairly heavy smokers. More on this later. Our First Cigarette-----Our first cigarette was provided from out stepmonster to be. We were in hers and Sheila’s apartment when my brother Desmond took interest in her cigarettes. I was 9, Desy 8, and Kevin was 5. She took a cigarette out for each of us and lit them for us. She told us how to smoke it and laughed as we choked on the smoke. I was so sick. I felt like puking. I didn't touch one of those things for a very long time. I never became a smoker either. Both of my brothers did take up smoking in their teens. It is interesting that this first experience smoking cigarettes was so negative. I was so sick and this was a real red flag for what was to follow. As I grew, I constantly ragged on them for smoking. It made sense later that I often was sick with colds and sore throats and I later became so allergic to tobacco smoke. The Perm----When I was about nine and we were getting ready for my father's marriage to 'step monster' to be. I had to have my hair done. All I remembered was sitting in the chair a long time with her and we both got perms done. Much later she told me later that it was me who wanted the prerm in my hair. Not her. But I don't remember that. What I do remember is the mess my hair turned out to be. It was fried, a big ball of static fizz, a tangled mass that was next to impossible to get a brush or comb through. What I know now is that you cant use an adult perm on a child’s very fine hair. They must have known even then by the outcomes that the adult perm would damage a child’s hair. I remember standing on the couch in the living room of the apartment and looking at the friz ball that was my hair. Nothing worked to control it we just had to cut it out as my hair grew. For the wedding my hair was sprayed and back combed. It took forever, and it hurt. I still hate to go to a hairdresser and opt for a really short cut. Sleepwalking on Stradbrook-----Before the ‘marriage’ my brothers and I were living with my dad and brothers and a nanny on Stradbrook street. I still had a problem wetting my bed at night. Although we did not know at the time we  know now that this was another early sign of a serious depression problem. Anyway, the routine was that either the nanny or my dad would get me up at about 11 P.M. or 12 A.M. and take me to the bathroom. Most of the time I would not remember this happening. It was like I was in a fog. One night the nanny placed me on the toilet and was called away for some reason. All I remember of the night was her asking me if I would be O.K. on my own to go back to bed. I can hear myself telling her I would be fine. I remember the actual configuration of the bathroom and that it was right across from my bedroom. Apparently, when she went to check on me she found me missing and the search was on. The finally found me wandering around on Stradbrook Street in my pajamas. I had left the bathroom, unlocked the apartment doors, walked down one or two sets of stairs and let myself out of the locked apartment block. In most areas of town this would not have been too bad, but Stradbrook street is near Osbourne Street. It was in the middle of the Osbourne Street Village and there was a rough bar on the comer. The area was in very rough shape. It was not ‘The Village’ as it is known now. The Yellow Dress----When my father was to marry the step monster I was supposed to be a flower girl along with the step monsters young sister Francine. The bridesmaids were dressed in pink so were to have pink dresses. I remember always hating pink. I am not sure where this dislike of pink came from but it was intense. As it turned out, there was not enough pink material to make both the flower girls dresses to match the bridesmaids so one of the flower girls dresses would have to be made out of yellow. I begged to be given the yellow dress but I was forced to wear the pink and Francine was given the yellow dress. Francine teased me about it mercilessly. It was such a simple request ‘let me wear the yellow dress’. But step monster said that Francine looked better in the yellow and I looked better in the pink. This is one of the many pink battles I would have to fight. And, to this day, I still don’t like pink. I also still do not know why. Twisting at the Wedding-----I have some ‘positive’ memories about my fathers wedding. I loved to hear bagpipes and there was a piper. I also remember dancing at the wedding. I was doing the twist and I was on a stage of some sort from what I remember of the event. I cant remember much else for some reason or another. I also remember my father and step monster leaving for their honeymoon. But I am not sure who took care of us. I think it was a family friend ‘Curley’ and her boys. It is interesting some of the things you remember while other things you cant remember.

Kilts in December-----My father decided to leave Scotland in 1963 just after/before Christmas. I was eight and a half, Desmond was seven, and Kevin was four. He had a number of reasons to leave. There was opportunity, a fresh start, and there was escape from my grandmother. The two of them never got along. He was an authoritarian rebel ex-Catholic bully and my grandmother was a meddling narrow minded Protestant. He hated my mother’s family. I think that he blamed them for my mother’s death while they blamed him. As it often is in life there are three versions of reality, his, theirs, and the reality of depression. My mother had been dead for three years now and he saw little future for us in Scotland. I did not know much about why my father took us away from the only family and support we had, I was to find out about the reasons much later in life. I realized much later in life that my father was a coward who ran away from his problems instead of dealing with them. I do know that my grandmother’s heart was broken and he didn’t care. We were her only grandchildren, and all she had left of her eldest daughter Joy our dead mother. In preparation for the trip my grandmother wanted to buy us new clothes to make the trip in, she dressed both Desmond and I in a kilt made from the Murray tartan and royal blue sweaters. I cant remember what Kevin was dressed in he was too young for a kilt. She also sent each of us off with a bible with an inscription. Mine read "Linda Murray is my name, Scotland is my nation, Canada is my dwelling place but Christ is my salvation"....Johan Latimer (my maternal gandmother). I still have both the kilt and the bible. Unfortunately for us, we arrived in Winnipeg Manitoba in late December. There was snow everywhere. The snow in Winnipeg can be six feet deep at this time of the year. The air was so cold and there was no walkway from the plane to the airport gate. We had to walk down the stairs with uncovered legs. My gran and my dad didn't have a clue what to expect. It was cold, Damn cold.