#you have no room to complain post season 2 about them you people are ridiculous

[navree]

people who get angry at me for saying that pissy book purist fans are always welcome to not watch hotd if they hate the changes so much are so funny because, like, i am a fan of the mortal instruments. not only am i fan, i read those books at a formative time in my life that has left me with a lifelong emotional investment in that story even over a decade after the fact. and the mortal instruments got adapted into the shadowhunters show. the shadowhunters show. you think i don't know what it's like when a tv series adaptation makes a bunch of changes to the source material that i am viscerally against?? when a book series whose last installment i stayed up until one in the morning to read before a final exam got adapted into the shadowhunters show????

thing is, after watching the pilot and realizing they were making a bunch of changes i didn't like and wasn't enjoying and that i didn't like the show, i stopped watching the show and never ever went back. it is in fact that easy. especially if you're not a little piss baby who hates women.

[decimalpointed]

ST Fic Prompts because while I love to write, there's a very good chance I won't get around to finishing anything I've started.

Ghost AU - Steve can interact with ghosts but knows better than to mention it or really talk to them much cause once you help one ghost out one time they all wanna chat. The ghosts can't do much more than be verbally annoying so it works out. Except then Barb dies and it turns out people killed by weird Upside Down bullshit can do a little more than talk to him. They can basically interact with Steve like he lives on their plane of existence. Barb saves him from the bear trap in the Byers house and they get along well enough because Barb is smart and doesn't blame him for what happened. She mostly still just hovers around Nancy and her family but occasionally comes and hangs out with Steve when she is bored and its nice. Bob is the same way when he dies, pops up at Steve's house to talk about Joyce and is overall unobtrusive. Billy and Eddie are both assholes who are not unobtrusive and instead love to mess with Steve. At first with Billy its annoying but then Eddie comes into the afterlife and their antics just build from there. (Originally saw this as BillyxStevexEddie but honestly it'd be great however really)

Modern Sugar Daddy Steddie AU- Eddie is a small time drug dealer who makes some extra money from playing shows with his band around the city. He has never been wealthy and is okay with that, but then Wayne gets cancer and suddenly he really needs cash. So he finds himself a sugar daddy because it seemed easy and quick and he is a high school drop out who was once upon a time accused of murder. Steve Harrington is his age, good looking,funny, and ridiculously wealthy so he keeps waiting for the catch. The catch is that Steve keeps a nail-bat beside his bed (which is scary as fuck), has a group of 6?7? teens that come and go from his house as they please (which every time Steve makes him slip out the balcony window and leave like a creep in the night so they don't see him), and when they are blissfully alone and uninterrupted sometimes Steve will just get up for no reason and stalk through the house with the bat in hand checking every window and door lock like 4 times like a man possessed. Eddie finds it weird and frustrating but he is literally getting paid to put up with it so he can't complain. Then when he is sneaking out one of the little gremlins catches him and suddenly he is thrown into this strange codependent family unit that really is a bit charming. (For this one I figured no supernatural stuff and maybe the kids got like kidnapped or trafficked by Russians and Nancy went to look for Mike and Steve and somehow Robin got involved and they were all captured (except El who grew up with the evil people) and a bit fucked up about it after they all escaped. Then the Russians could come back and Eddie could somehow get involved in it too and they falllllll in looooovvvveeeeee. )

Time-travel Hopper POV - Any combination of characters (preferably like 3 or 4) time travel back to the end of season 2 and they end up saving Bob (though they try to go back further but missed) . They are there physically instead of going back to like their old bodies and when they all get to the Byers house everyone is freaked out by these older doppelgangers who just kicked ass like it was nothing. Because it was nothing and they are from a post s4 where demo beasts have overrun everything and almost everyone is dead and a few demodogs feels like a walk in the park. This future group is hardened and missing limbs or eyes (like max blind but still badass) and they are quiet and disturbing. (Originally had this idea with Nancy, Steve, Max, and Vamp Kas Eddie being the travelers but super fucked up. Like Eddie killed a bunch of the group before he had control again, Max is obsessive compulsive about her Walkman always playing and is always holding onto someone, Nancy puts her back to a wall every time they get to a room and has way too many weapons, and Steve being a drug addict to the high he gets when he let's Eddie take blood cause then he doesn't have to think about shit)

[erectionsandtea]

Poly party summer fun headcanons, part 2 ! 😀 (this got way too long so I’m posting it as it is, and if I get more ideas, or if you guys want to send me anything 😉, I’ll either reblog this post or make a new one.) Enjoy!

(part 1 can be found here)

Amusement park: (these are based on amusement parks I have been to since they're all I know, lol)

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER

- they go early so they can do everything (twice) but they also stay until it gets dark bc El wants to see all the lights

- one of her favorite rides is the big ship that swings back and forth because it feels like flying

- Max, Lucas, and Dustin take El on her first roller coaster ride, and it's super scary but she also loves it (Robin and Nancy go, too)

Lucas and Dustin scream like little girls on the roller coaster and become the butt of many jokes about it (most of them from Max)

Max and Lucas would totally try to kiss for the roller coaster camera (idk why okay, stop me) but the photo would look absolutely ridiculous and Max’s hair is fuckin EvERYWHERE

El uses some of her money to buy a copy of the photo (she buys a copy of their photo from every ride, it's a lot of money, but the others help her out with it), and when she gets home, Will helps her make a collage of all the photos that she puts up in her room

- El also wants caricatures, but they don't have enough money for everyone (so she just gets one of herself). Will watches the artist, who gives him tips on how to do it so he can draw some for El later (and he totes does bc good brother vibes)

- they do the ferris wheel last bc it is super romantic (even more so at night), and everyone wants to go with everyone else. Max wants to go up every time someone else does bc she wants to try to spy on them, lol

Groups, in order from side to other side (sitting, not riding order):

for her very first time: Max/El/Mike (her two bffs, aka her bf and gf)

Mike/Will

Max/Lucas

Dustin/Suzie

El/Max/Lucas

El/Mike/Will

El/Mike

El/Max

the guy running the ferris wheel is just like “you kids again???” bc they keep just getting off the ride and going straight to the back of the line to go up again, but eventually they have to stop bc the park is literally about to close and they’ll be kicked out

- there's also a haunted house ride and El absolutely has to ride with Mike bc when she is scared or feels like she's in danger, he's always been the best at making her feel okay again. She clings to him throughout the ride, but ends up laughing at how cheesy not-scary most of the effects are.

- as exhilarating as the drop rides are, El doesn’t like going on them too much but she can do it like, once. maybe twice.

- Lucas and Max, and Dustin and Will, like that ride that’s like the ferris wheel except you’re in a cage and you can manipulate the cage (by spinning it and stuff) to take you upside down. Dustin and Max do it too much, like to an extreme, and Will and Lucas are like “stop, the world is literally spinning” and they’re very disoriented when they get off

- there’s a rapids ride, and since the rafts are big enough to hold 8 people, the whole party is able to go together in one, and then the teens can go together in another one. they totally get sprayed by bystanders. 

- there's a shooting game (like where you go through a tunnel on a track, and targets pop up and you shoot them)

Lucas is the best and El rides with him bc the best should introduce the newbie, and she has so much fun, it's nothing like the guns she's experienced in her previous (lab) life.

Max and Dustin fight really hard to be second best.

Mike and Will go together and compared to the others, they suck, but that's okay they have fun anyway, and they joke about their own terribleness.

- Dustin buys those deep-fried snacks (you know the ones I mean) and he is literally the only person in the group that likes them (okay, not true, Robin can handle them, too)

El, against the advice of the others, wants to try those snacks bc she’s never heard of anything like that before, and the first time she takes a bite, her face goes through a range of like 10 emotions bc she’s being assaulted by flavors-

but after she manages to swallow it, she’s like “wow, that was amazing” and the others are like “...you serious??”

Mike is just like “that is disgusting and I’m not kissing you after that lol” and El is just like “but...why?” (he totes does tho, he doesn’t give a f, he’s kissing his gf bc he just can’t resist the cuteness)

Nancy, even though she doesn’t necessarily like it, can totally handle taking a bite and finishing it (like that beer from season 1) and Robin is like “that’s impressive, band geek” and Nancy’s just like “I’m not in band” (idk lol)

- El wanting to try EVERY food but the others have to cut her off bc it’s so expensive and she will get so sick

- Mike being a good bf and holding souvenirs bought by his bf and gf (Will totally buying a sweet little something for his awesome mom) (El totally doing the same thing to remind herself of Hopper, but she keeps it in her room instead)

- Lucas also being a good bf for the same reason but complaining about it, lol

- everyone goes on the log ride (you might know it as the flume) bc there isn’t a person on earth who doesn’t like that ride, and even tho she knows about the impending splash, El is still super surprised when it happens

Groups, in order (front to back):

El, Mike, Max, and Lucas (Max is explaining to El over Mike’s shoulder that “you absolutely HAVE TO be in the front, it’s the best way”)

Suzie, Dustin, Steve, and Robin (irrelevant but don’t tell me Robin sits in front of Steve, there’s no fuckin way, she’s not his gf, also Steve and Dustin just have to sit together bruh)

Will, Dustin (bc obvsly he goes on again), Nancy, and Jonathan

Mike has his arms around El like he thinks he’s going to protect her from the huge spray of water (but his skinny arms won’t protect shit lol) and he somehow manages to make a decent photo come out of him kissing her cheek while she is simultaneously screaming (good screaming)

- everyone loves the bumper cars (Jonathan and Suzie hang back tho, to hold everyone’s stuff and cheer from the side)

Max, as the only one (sans teens) who has actually driven a car before, rides with El so she can teach her how to do it

her and Lucas (with his passenger Will) are automatically in competition with one another (”you’re going down!” “no, YOU’RE going down!”)

Robin, riding by herself, goes after Steve and driver Nancy (who’s surprisingly good at this)

and Dustin (passenger Mike) gangs up with Robin to take on Steve and Nancy, which makes Nancy even more determined now to destroy both of them

Steve’s a little afraid of Nancy when she’s like this, lol

eventually Dustin and Robin are like “okay okay, we’ll stop! jesuschrist, how did you get so good at this??” (but also they are just in total awe of Nancy) and they just go after each other instead

- El doesn’t like spinning rides (too dizzy and they totally make her tummy “feel weird, like there’s a storm in it” “uh oh, you’re nauseous, El” “naw-shus?” “yeah, like sick, here, sit down for a minute”), but Will loves them and he’s there for her

- the sky ride (the one that takes you from end of the park to the other), groups:

Mike and Will on one side, Max and El on the other (the seats are basically little cabins, seats for 4 people)

Lucas and Dustin on one side, Jonathan and Steve on the other

Robin on one side (she totally takes up the whole double space, putting her leg up), Nancy and Suzie on the other

- carousel ride! (during the day)

El wants the prettiest horse

Max gets the most badass thing which is like...a wolf??

Lucas and Dustin ride only bc there’s a game where you can try to throw rings into a hole while going around (they each get one in by pure luck but otherwise suck). they don’t really care what animals they get, they just need ones that move up and down. Dustin gets a cat with a fish in his mouth, and Lucas ends up just picking a rabbit before everything is taken and he doesn’t have a choice anymore. The others fuckin laugh at the image of Lucas riding a rabbit

Suzie gets another horse

Will gets a lion which doesn’t move up and down but he’s okay with that, he’s kinda just going bc everyone else is

Mike gets stuck with a horse bc he was at the back of the group and by the time he gets there, every other non-horse animal is taken (but they joke about how he should have gotten the non-moving giraffe, taken by Steve, bc it’s so tall and gangly like him lol)

Nancy gets a horse

Robin takes the wild boar bc “dude that is the most badass animal on a carousel I have ever seen!”

Jonathan stays behind, no matter how much the others beg, but he takes lots of really good pictures (including the one time Dustin gets the ring in the hole and then cheering, then also him and Lucas high-fiving, and the various couples exchanging really cute looks, and El having the best time ever bc she’s never been on one of these before)

they go on the carousel one more time near the end of the night and this time Jonathan gives in and rides with them, but he sits in one of the benches that’s just there for the parents), and he still takes pictures as best he can without getting up and moving

- photo booth photos! (I’ll leave the silly face ones up to your imagination)

El and Max (one super close hug with faces pressed together, one kiss, one silly faces, and one smiles)

Will and Mike, but Max and El totally burst in for like, the last 1.5 pictures, it doesn’t ruin them tho, Mike and Will just ignore them (one nice smiles bc they’re like “what do we do??”, one hug, one kiss being interrupted by the girls in the background, one candid laughing while the girls wave at the camera)

Will and Mike again (one candid of Mike holding the curtain shut to make sure no interruptions and Will laughing, one kiss (non-interrupted), one silly faces, one just being super cute and close together and leaning on each other)

Max and Lucas (one smiles, one kiss, one of her pretending to look tough by putting him in a headlock or putting a fist next to his face like a punch, one that was supposed to be funny faces but instead is her looking off to the side where Mike has opened the curtain and stuck his head (with his tongue out) in as revenge and Lucas with that look of “dude, really??” on his face)

Dustin and Suzie (one kiss, one smiles, one nose-to-nose, one super close together leaning on each other cute)

Mike and El (one smiles, one kiss, one of him like surprise-trying to pull her into his lap kind of thing idk and her just looking super surprised but happy but also Max is in the background ruining YET ANOTHER picture, and one candid of them giggling about the previous picture with their foreheads pressed together almost nose-to-nose)

Mike and El again bc she wants non-interrupted photos (one with her actually sitting in his lap this time (she did this beforehand so he wouldn’t scare her again with the surprise-pulling thing), one of them pretending to look all hoity-toity like super models, one with her arms around his neck and his arms around her waist and they’re all close and cute sort of candid, and one just like the last one except they’re looking at the camera and smiling)

Will and Mike and El (one with Mike in the middle while his gf and bf give him a kiss on each cheek, one with El hanging over Mike’s shoulders in sort of a half-piggyback and he and Will are laughing, one with Mike and Will kissing while El makes a funny face at the camera, one of them all making funny faces at the camera)

Max and El and Mike (one with El in the middle, Max’s arms are around her waist almost dipping her backwards, her legs are up in the air (as far up as they can go in the tiny booth) and her head is tilting back onto Mike’s shoulder with his arms around her shoulders and he’s pressing a kiss to her hair, one with El kissing Mike’s cheek while he and Max make funny faces, one with Max behind them and her arms over both of their shoulders pulling them all close and their faces squished together with this super big cheesy grin while Mike is laughing at El’s funny face, one with Mike and El kissing and Max sitting next to them making the 👌🏻 symbol and winking at the camera, bc she just has to get sassy)

Bonus, more teens:

- Robin takes Steve on all the crazy rides (aka drags him, makes him go, etc.) They both get a little sick, but for her it's totally worth it (for him...not so much)

- Dustin and Robin get along hella bc he joins them on the crazy rides and is just @steve like “what are you, a pussy?”

- Nancy has to remind Jonathan that the kids will be FINE, and they don't need to hover around them all evening, "let's go enjoy ourselves"

- Nancy likes roller coasters, CHAnGE mY MInD

- Steve and Robin totally scream when they go on the drop ride together, except Robin’s scream is more “holy shit, exhilarating and so exciting! whooooo!” while Steve’s is more “this is fun but also I’m totally gonna die!!”

- Steve is a boss at those games where you have to throw something at/into/onto a target and he wins a stuffed animal

- Robin is p decent at those games too, but she’s not a match for the king (she comes close though, they actually turn it into a competition to see who can win more stuff)

- Nancy kicks butt at that game where you shoot a spray of water and make the target thing rise to the top or race or whatever (any shooting game, really), you know what I mean (Jonathan fucking fails, sorry Jonathan)

- Steve totally wins that game where you swing a mallet and try to ring the bell. Robin doesn’t win but she gets way closer than they thought she would and Steve’s “wtf”. Dustin is also stronger than he looks, and even tho he doesn't win, he can at least lift the (smaller) mallet, which is more than any of the others can do.

- Robin HAS to do that game where you try to climb the flat, almost horizontal rope ladder to the end and she doesn’t even make it halfway before she falls, but it’s hilarious

- Nancy also tries that game after some goading from the others, and she makes it farther than Robin (about halfway) but still fails fantastically. And then she takes a bow.

[manndo]

i see you [din djarin x reader]

gif credit

pairing[s]: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader (no descriptors, no y/n)

warning[s]: slight angst, fluff, kissing, mentions of arousal (barley there & nothing really descriptive) and ridiculously canon divergent (see notes).

word count: 4.0k

prompt[s]: from this list, based off the prompt ‘overhearing they have feelings for you’

summary: you just wanted to tell the child a bedtime story, and apparently, you had something you needed to get off your chest. but you weren’t aware you had an audience besides the child.

author’s notes: alright, for the last day of 2020 (i’m still in 2020 over here, unfortunately), i’ve decided to take a leap of faith and post my first mandalorian fic! i started writing this before episode 13 of season 2, before we learned the child’s name and way before the separation (i am still recovering from the emotional strain of this ending). and obviously, i didn’t finish it until now -- almost two weeks after the last episode. so, as i mentioned in my warnings, this is canon divergent -- basically anything from episode 13 to 16 did not happen in this fic. so, this means that grogu is referred to as the child/the little one/the kid in this fic. in the future, i am hoping to write more canon friendly fics, but who knows?? the season finale was bittersweet and honestly?? i just want my dad/son duo back together. 😢but anyway! any and all mistakes are my own. please feel free to comment/like/reblog, whatever you see fit. enjoy! ❤️and goodbye 2020, hello 2021! 🍻

You were tinkering with a malfunctioning blaster down in the hull when you heard him. At first, the cry was soft, barely there — perhaps Mando had said or done something to irritated him while they sat in the cockpit together. However, after another few moments, the cries grew louder and longer. Carefully, you set the blaster aside, and wiped your hands on the cloth next to you before pushing yourself off from your seated position on Mando’s bunk. Within seconds, you were climbing the ladder and entering the cockpit to find Mando standing from his seat, holding the child away from him as the child wailed. Immediately, Mando lifted his head toward you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching him?” he asked, a hint of irritation in his modulated voice. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could imagine the glare he was giving you.

You sighed heavily, shaking your head, and took two steps forward to grab the child from Mando’s outstretched arms. Unfortunately, the child did not stop his crying. You tucked him against you. “Technically, yes. That’s what you hired me for, but you know this little one has his ways of sneaking around,” you muttered, reaching out to grab the little one’s tiny hand. Even through his wailing, the little one’s finger immediately wrapped around your thumb. You hummed soothingly and began to gently bounce him, keeping your eyes trained on him. “And, it wasn’t like you were complaining ten minutes ago when he was being a perfect little angel,” you mumbled, rubbing your thumb gently over the little one’s finger and looked up to Mando. Mando snorted, but said nothing as he sat himself back down in the pilot’s chair, and turned himself away from you. You knew he didn’t need to be there — the Crest was in hyperdrive and most likely on autopilot — but, you found he preferred it to other parts of the ship. Then again, when you’re always on guard like him, well, it made sense to be in the cockpit.

“He’s probably just tired, Mando,” you said, glancing away from him and back to the child, who was, thank the Maker, not wailing anymore. However, he was still crying, still taking in big breaths and looking at you with wide, glassy eyes. “Just needs a little nap. Ain’t that right, little one?” The child gave you a sniffle, and hung his head. “Come on,” you said quietly, giving the child’s finger a little squeeze, “let’s get you tucked in.”

You turned on your heel, and carefully made your way down to the hull once more, all the while whispering comforting words to the child in hopes to quell his cries. It seemed to work — for the most part. He still seemed upset, even if he wasn’t really crying anymore. More like, sniffles and whines. But, he was still restless against you. Even if he was overtired, it was clear he wasn’t too keen on actually being put down because the moment you had set him into the makeshift, hanging bed that Mando had crafted for him, he tried to pull himself out. “Ah, ah, little one, don’t you even think about it,” you reprimanded him softly, pushing him gently back down into the swinging bed. He let a small whine in disagreement, but didn’t try moving again.

“Maybe I should tell you a story,” you said, your voice low, calm. He blinked at you, his eyes still looking a little watery, and gave you another small whine. You began to rock the bed. “You know, I don’t think I’ve really told you any stories since I came on this ship,” you said, reaching up and running a finger over his ear, from base to tip. He made a small coo of happiness, and you smiled. “Granted, it hasn’t been that long since your dad hired me, has it?” You’d only been traveling with them for six months, give or take. You still sometimes had to, metaphorically, pinch yourself that this was your life now — galavanting around the galaxy with a Mandalorian and his charge.

You felt a small push against your finger, which had been resting on the tip of the child’s ear, followed by a small whine. You let out a short chuckle, and moved your finger, running it over his ear again. He leaned into the touch. “You know, the first time I saw you and your dad, I didn’t know what to think. I’d never met a Mandalorian before, but I knew of them, knew the stories of them. Who hadn’t?” You moved your hand from running to over his ear, to the top of his head. He cooed softy, eyes fluttering closed. “But, what surprised me the most was you, little one. Not because I had never seen creature like you. No, that wasn’t it. It was because you were with him. A Mandalorian and a child,” you whispered, noticing that the little one’s eyes were only half open now. You gave the top of his head a small scratch, and his eyes closed completely. “Even if you are older than both of us,” you added, a small chuckle escaping your lips as his eyes opened again, a bit slower than last time.

“It’s funny,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes trained on him. You watched as he snuggled himself a little deeper into his bed. “I never would have thought that one minute, I’d be fixing a blaster your dad needed repaired, then the next being on his ship, taking care of you.” A brief pause. “You know, he saved me, little one?” You felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed it. “Life hadn’t been easy when you two came around. Sure, I had a roof over my head and enough credits to keep me fed. But, it had been a lonely life.”

You took a deep breath. “My parents had been gone for a few years, and I had no siblings to seek comfort in. I worked for a nasty man, who liked to belittle me every chance he got, even if I was a better technician than he was. I had a few acquaintances, a few people I’d chat with every once in a while, maybe grab a drink with them at a cantina, but I didn’t have any real friends,” you paused. “Well, I did. At one point. But, things happen.” A heavy, dejected sigh escaped your lips. “People change. Life changes.” Absentmindedly, you ran your finger down the child’s cheek. His eyes were now half-open, the child hell bent on staying awake. Stubborn, like his father for sure. “But, now I’m here. And, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” You pursed your lips in thought. “Well, it would be nice to have a larger, more comfortable bed. But, then I wouldn’t have you, and I wouldn’t have your dad.” The little one cooed quietly, and you chuckled pulling your finger from his cheek.

You became silent then, let yourself just watch the little one. He was settling nicely into his bed, looking more relaxed, his eyes staying closed. It should have only been a few more moments, and he’d be asleep. Just a few more moments and he’d be resting peacefully, and you could go back to working on that blaster. Just a few more minutes.

“I love him, you know,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. It was only when you heard the little one coo that you realized that you’d said that out loud. Your eyes widened as you took in the little one, his own eyes now open once more. He was looking at you, head titled slightly, big brown eyes focused on you. He blinked once, twice as if he was waiting for you to elaborate.

Fuck, you hadn’t planned to say that out loud. But you had — to the little one, no less. Sure, he couldn’t tell Mando what you’d said, so that was an advantage. But, Maker, what were you thinking?

You had only just admitted to yourself you were in love with the Mandalorian. You had spent weeks denying your feelings. After all, you hadn’t known each other long, there was no way you were actually in love with him. It had to be, you figured, because of your living situation — you two were in constant contact with each other, barely any room for privacy or time alone. He was the only person you could hold a full conversation with (not that you didn’t have conversations with the child, but it was very one-sided). So, maybe, it was just the situation. It had to be. But, as the days passed by, you realized that wasn’t the case. You had fallen for the Mandalorian. You were in love with him. You were in love with Mando.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, and let your head fall into your hands. “You weren’t supposed to hear that, little one,” you said, the words slightly mumbled against your palms. “Nobody was supposed to hear that. And, especially not your dad — not that I don’t want him to know, I do. But, we haven’t been together long — in the sense of me being on the ship, you know — and I fear it will make him distant again. He was so distant when I first came aboard, but now.” You let out another heavy sigh, and move your hands away from your face to glance up at the little one. He has pulled himself up to look over the edge of his makeshift bed, his tired eyes looking down at you. There is a sad look up on his face, his large eyes searching yours. “I don’t know exactly how he feels, little one. But, I’ve seen his heart. You’ve seen his heart.” You paused and took a breath. “It’s in the little things. The way he sits with you when he flies. How he tries to teach you things — even if they backfire in his face,” you said, and a smile crossed your lips. The child gave a small tired little giggle. “Making this bed for you,” you said softly, reaching up and running your fingers over the material. “Making your little pouch. All those things, and more, show me his heart, show us his heart.” You leaned forward and pressed your forehead gently against the child’s. “He would do anything to keep you safe, little one. Anything. And that, makes him a good man.” The child let out a soft sound, and you pulled away from him, a soft smile on your lips.

There was a brief silence that settled between you. You let it hang in the air for a brief moment before speaking again. “Alright, come on, you need to go to sleep now. Apparently, trying to tell you a bedtime story is not the way I should go,” you said with a small chuckle. The child gave a small whine. “Don’t try and fight with me. We both know you’re tired. So come on, close those big, beautiful eyes,” you said, your voice dropping in volume. His eyes fluttered closed, and you reached out your fingers, letting it brush against his tiny hand. “There you go,” you muttered, continuing to brush his little hand with your finger in a soothing gesture. His eyes stayed closed, and his body seemed to relax into his bed. Another few moments, and his breathing had evened out, and you knew he was finally asleep. You let out a small sigh of relief. “Sleep well, little one,” you whispered, and with on final brush to his hand, you stood up from the bunk. You pressed the switch, shutting the bunks door with a small clink. You had barely turned away from the door when you heard a loud thunk, and found yourself coming face to face with Mando.

“Maker!” you yelped, practically jumping out of your skin, hand slapping against your chest. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as you looked at Mando with wide eyes. “Mando,” you said, voice slightly out breath as you pressed your hand a little harder to your chest, physically and mentally willing your heart to slow down. “You can’t — fuck, you scared me. You’re lucky I closed the damn door before you did that. What if he’d woken up? I had a devil of a time getting him to sleep, you know,” you muttered, hand falling from your chest and back to your side.

“Did you now?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his tinny voice. You furrowed your brow, as he took another step closer to you, his beskar helmet only a few inches away from your face. He titled his helmet, and you could swear, if he didn’t have it on, there would be a smirk on his face. You felt a twinge of panic fill your face — had he, had he heard you? You mentally shook your head of that thought. You were being paranoid.

“I did,” you huffed as you turned away from him, taking a step toward where you had left the malfunctioning blaster.

“Maybe if you hadn’t talked so much,” he muttered, and you felt your entire body freeze, “he might have fallen asleep faster.”

It felt like you couldn’t breathe. Blood was rushing in your ears. Maker, he heard you. He heard you blabbing your feelings, you feelings for him, to the little one. The quick landing, the sarcasm you had heard— it all made sense. He had been there, above the two of you, listening, hearing every word you said. Your confession. You felt yourself begin to get warm with embarrassment, and you willed your body to move. You wanted to run, but where could you run? You were on a ship, in the middle of space — there was no where to go. Nowhere to hide.

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breathe before you slowly turned back to face Mando. You didn’t have to see his eyes to know he was staring at you, but Maker, did you wish you could see them. Wish you could see his face. Maybe then you could tell what he was thinking. Did he feel something too? Or, was he disgusted at the thought of you having feelings? Was he about to dismiss your feelings, maybe even drop you off at the next inhabited planet, leaving you there. Leaving you alone, again. No Mando, no kid. You swallowed that fear, those thoughts. “Listen, Mando, I—”

“Close your eyes.”

You blinked in confusion. “W—what?

“Do you trust me?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Then, close your eyes. And, promise me, you won’t open them.” You blinked, too stunned at his request to answer immediately. His gloved hand wrapped around your wrist, a barely there touched. “Promise me.” It should have been a demand, but it came out more as a desperate plea.

You looked down at the hand gently holding your wrist, then back at the beskar helmet in front of you. “Yea,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper, “I promise. I promise,” you repeated. There was a moment of stillness where neither of you moved before you took a slow, deep breath and let your eyes fall closed.

You felt Mando let go of your wrist before you heard a clicking sound, followed by a soft hiss. It was followed by a loud clink of metal against the floor of the ship, near your feet, you thought. Then, there was a gloved hand on your cheek, the fabric rough against your skin. You felt the brush of his thumb over your cheek, and your breath hitched in your throat. “Mando, what are—”

The end of your question was gently swallowed by his lips.

Maker, you had not expected this. Immediately, you had wanted to open your eyes, because you weren’t sure this was real. Was he — was Mando really kissing you? But, he was kissing you. His soft lips were pressed against yours, not bruising, but not gentle either, and it didn’t take long before you felt his tongue swipe across the seam of your lips, seeking permission. You parted your lips with ease.  

At the first slide of his tongue against yours, a small whimper escaped your lips, your hand darting out as you blindly grabbed at his shoulder. You fisted as much of the material of his undershirt in your hand while the other part pressed against the cool beskar, and tugged, pulling him flush against you. You felt, more than heard, him groan when your bodies met, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your jaw while his other arm wrapped around your middle, holding you against him. You could feel warmth spreading in your limbs, and an excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time filling your veins and culminating between your legs.

You would have kept kissing him, would have let yourself suffocate in his kisses, but a few seconds later, you felt him begin to pull away. Before his lips could leave yours completely, you pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, giving it a quick nip. And, fuck, the sound that came out of his mouth. You felt another spike of arousal course through you, and you almost, almost opened your eyes. But, you promised you wouldn’t, and you knew what it meant if you did. So, you forced yourself to keep them closed as you tried to regain control of yourself, your hand still clutching his shoulder.

There’s a moment where the two of you stand there, your breath mingling with one another as you both tried to calm your racing hearts. But, it is brief, and before you know it, the hand that was resting on your cheek falls, and the arm around your waist loosens and you feel him step away. Immediately, you want to pull him back to you, bring his lips back to yours. But, you don’t. You’re frozen once more — in fear, in shock, in elation, you’re not quite sure.

You took a shuddering breath. “Mando—”

“Din,” you hear him say, and it sounds pure, smooth. It’s then you realize the helmet is still off. You can’t help the butterflies that form in your stomach at the sound of his unmodulated voice. His voice. It sounds like liquid gold to your ears. But then ,you hear the sounds you heard before he kissed you, the click and hiss, of the helmet falling back into place.

You wait a beat before you let your eyes flutter open, and you come face to face with the beskar helmet once more.

“Din Djarin,” he repeated, and reached out, brushing one of his gloved fingers down your cheek, over your jaw, and stopping at the nape of your neck. “My name is Din Djarin.”

His finger began to draw an absentminded pattern across your shoulder. You could tell by the tilt of his head that his eyes were focused on that finger. That finger that kept moving as the moments ticked by, never stopping, never making any sense against your skin. For the first time since you’d met him, you could tell he was nervous.

You knew he didn’t tell his name to anyone. You had asked when you’d met him what his name was. He had told you to call him Mando. You had thought it odd, but did not think it was your place to push him (you had only just met him, after all). So, you called him Mando, as did everyone else you had come in contact with. But, four months later, you decided to finally push the subject. He told you that he had not used his birth name since he was a child, since he was sworn into the Creed. There were only a few who knew name, and only due to an extenuating circumstance, he had said, making it clear he did not tell anyone. Nobody should have known his name — and from what you could tell, he had no plans of telling any one in the future.

But, here he was, standing in front of you, telling you his name. Willingly giving you this piece of information about himself. You knew he couldn’t show you his face — not yet, not now — but he could give you this. He could give you this part of himself. If the kiss wasn’t enough for you to know that he felt something for you, this sealed the deal. It wasn’t an outright “I love you”, but to you, it was something more, something deeper than that. This was him trusting you, him giving you a part of himself. It filled your heart with joy.

“Din,” you whispered, letting the name roll of your tongue, and filling the space around you. His finger had stopped its’ random movements, and his head tilted up, and you were face to face with the all too familiar beskar helmet. You smiled softly and wondered if he was smiling behind it too. You reached out, and let your fingertips dance over the cool metal. “Din Djarin,” you said, letting yourself try out his full name. 

It was beautiful. It was him.

“It suits you,” you said, resting your palm against the side of his helmet. “I love it.”

Din let out a small, breathy, modulated chuckle. “You do?”

You nodded. “I do, cause it’s you.” You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet, your eyes fall closed. “And, I love you, Din Djarin,” you whispered softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. You wished you could have seen his face, but instead, you heard an intake of breath before you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, hand splayed over your hip. His gloved fingers pressed into your hip bone.

“You mean that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hummed and nodded, letting your free hand fall onto his chest, right over his heart. You couldn’t feel his heart under the beskar chest plate, but you imagined it was beating rapidly, just like yours. “I do.” Perhaps, it was too early to say such things, to declare that you loved him. Most people might think you were crazy, and maybe you were, but that didn’t matter. You loved him — you loved Din.

“Even without,” he paused, and you heard him take a breath. You let your eyes fuller open, and you pulled back a hair, just enough to be able to take him in. He didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was talking about — even without seeing his face.

“Hey,” you said softly, making sure his he was paying attention to you. “I don’t need to see your face.”

You heard a small, disbelieving chuckle. “Don’t need to see my face, eh?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. You tilted your head in thought. “Well, I mean, do I want to see your face? Absolutely.” You moved your fingers across the cheek of his helmet, to the visor, letting it trace the T-shape. “I want to see the color of your eyes, your nose, your mouth. The wrinkles and lines on your face. All of it.” You let your finger come to rest at the bottom of his helmet, just on the rim. You ran your finger over the smooth metal. “But, I know what that means for you, and I’m willing to wait for that. Your face is your face, and I’m sure it is a handsome face.” Another small chuckle escaped Din’s lips. “But, I don’t need to see it to know what I feel in my heart, Din.”

“You don’t?” He sounded surprised,

You shook your head. “I don’t. Because, I’ve seen you, Din Djarin,” you said, your voice filled with conviction as you looked at him straight on, right where his eyes would be behind that beskar helmet. “I’ve seen you.”

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

just because you’re afraid it doesn’t mean you’re broken.

Titans 3.05

once more into the cold dark void of the internet with my stream-of-consciousness take on a superhero tv show...

spoilers ahead.

1. i cannot believe that among the first things i get to hear in this episode with my own two ears is the line 'eluded our overdudes'. why must you give me such pain along with so much joy, show?

1.5. scarecrow stringing jason along on this path to red-hood-dom is not something i would’ve ever expected, but does kind of make sense. 

1.55. i don’t know all the details of the original resurrection arc in the comics but i like that jason, weirdly, has a greater role to play in his own demise and rebirth? i think it makes it easier to draw a line between his past trauma, the demonstrably shitty and terrifying responsibility of being robin, the ways bruce and the titans wronged him, his responses to that, the reasons he turns to scarecrow, and his final evolution to red hood. it makes for a smoother character arc rather than a one that was interrupted for two decades before somebody went oh hey let’s resurrect that kid that the audience once voted to kill and make him an anti-hero!

1.75. what’s crane giving him? anti fear toxin? anyway, crane is a fucking creep and i’m not sure i want to see a whole lot of him on my screen.

2. oh, um, heads up: there’s a long sequence of unsteady cam + flickering lights right after the title card upto the 3:16 mark. it’s a bit headache-inducing so if you want to skip, you can go ahead and do that. 

2.45. that’s... weird... why would he dream about... donna...

ok, who am i kidding. i’m going to jump right into my theory about Why Titans Makes Sense Actually because the show itself is apparently not interested in explaining itself:

a) it makes no sense for jason to be conjuring up donna--who famously did not care much for him!--in his dreams. (he wasn’t even there when she died.) or for her to be telling him don’t go or there’s still time.

b) this leads me to think that that’s actually donna, in some sort of limbo between life and death, the kind of place where jericho used to be

c) rachel has demonstrated that she has the power to link the minds of the titans across great distances--she called jason and hank/dawn for help in 2.01, she linked up everybody later in the season, projected dick’s hallucination of his father into their brains without even realising she was doing it, and in the finale, she managed to get dick into conner’s brain. she’s in themyscira now. is this how she gets donna back to life? but reaching out to her in that non-space between life and death?

d) the next obvious question is: why isn’t donna appearing in the dreams of the other titans? she probably is, but they have better reason to be dreaming about her since they were actually close to her, unlike jason.

e) but why would she warn jason in particular? does she foresee jason entering the afterlife--however briefly? does she have an idea of what jason plans to do and what he will become?

f) anyway, more trippy mindscapes and weird psychic powers, yay!

2.5. my heart clenched when bruce comforted jason post-nightmare: clearly i’ve been reading way too much batfam fic. this is a side of bruce we haven’t really been told to expect by all the characters on the show calling him a ‘psychopath’ (*cough*unreliablenarrators*cough*) and him getting jason to speak to a professional speaks volumes about the kind of self-reflection he’s done post dick’s departure, and maybe some of the regrets he has with regards to how he dealt with dick’s traumas.

i mean, just look at him when jason dismisses his concerns! BRUCE IS TRYING JASON

anyway, i have a whole lot more i want to say about this, but i’ll save it for later. 

also: LESLIE THOMPKINS!!!!

3. i really like molly--and i love that she’s a friend from before jason got taken in by bruce, the implication that they meet up regularly and that she’s a grounding influence on him (tho clearly not grounding enough to not go along with his dumbass idea about confronting a child trafficker alone). 

3.5. aw, jason. robin was his armour against everything in the world that would throw him down and chew him to bits, but san francisco proved that even robin wasn’t enough to protect him. it’s really interesting how ‘disillusionment with the idea of robin’ is so integral to the traumas of both dick and jason but in such different ways. 

4. LESLIE!!!!!!! i even forgive her office being so goddamn blue because leslie! 

4.5. it makes so much sense for titans!verse leslie to be a therapist, because this show is so inward looking anyway, and therapist sessions are a useful tool to showcase this character work in a story. besides, at least in fanfic, leslie often seems to double up as a counsellor anyway. 

4.6. oh man. i’m not terribly convinced by walters’ red hood (tho i think that may be the point--argh. i’ll come back to this thought later. have to stop getting distracted!) but he plays the asshole kid that’s trying not to let any real emotion seep through really well.

“you’d like me to punch you, wouldn’t you”

5. not sure what to think of batman’s little trophy case other than the show winking unsubtly at us and going look look - catwoman! the riddler! two face! you excited yet?! it’s like the scene from the end of amazing spiderman 2 when they were trying to drum up excitement for a sinister six spinoff by having harry osborne walk by a bunch of display cases with stuff from iconic villains in them.

... but then again, bruce does like to display a lot of shit in his batcave, including his dead robin’s bloodstained costume, so.

5.5. bruce is so soft with jason it’s killing me. beyond just trying to learn from his mistakes with dick, it speaks to his own genuine desire to balance his dedication to gotham with doing the best by his sons, although he’s often not successful with that. 

i love that titans is really playing the long game with bruce wayne, with each season and character-perspective sliding in fresh pieces of a bigger puzzle. titans’ bruce has always been a phantom of other peoples’ making, but now we’re getting the idea that he’s a whole lot more complicated than other people make it seem.

5.75. it really recontextualises some of his actions from previous seasons: the fact that he locked dick out of his security systems in 1.06 is likely his way of respecting dick’s independence and his desire not to be associated with batman/gotham anymore. jason knowing about bruce’s tracker while dick doesn’t is probably bruce trying to be more honest and upfront with his charges. bruce sending jason packing off to sanfran to spend time with the titans is probably not him passing on a big responsibility to dick (as i first uncharitably thought) but him trying to get jason out of the toxic influence of gotham for a while and a sign of his trust in dick as a leader and a mentor,

5.8. i mean, bruce is a prick, but he’s also human.

6. i think leslie is doing some good work with jason here, though she may have overstepped the line with her line about robin as a construct being projected by a man with BPD. her speculations about bruce’s diagnosis have no place in her session with jason, and if bruce confides in her, an egregious violation of patient-therapist confidentiality. 

(about the diagnosis itself... i don’t know. i can’t really confirm or refute this without a whole lot more information, and i’m not sure if the writer of this episode means BPD in the same way an actual professional might.)

6.5. i think a huge thing that gets missed out in a lot of recent comics as well as movies/shows is that bruce didn’t create the robin persona out of whole cloth. dick did. he’s the starting point of that legacy and to call it entirely bruce’s creation is blatant erasure of that. in fact, i’m surprised that dick doesn’t feature more in the conversations they’re having about the pressures of being robin. after all, the guy had been robin--bruce’s partner--for such a long time before jason. 

6.8. (and here’s the primal part of me that resonates the deepest with dick grayson--the Eldest Daughter part--that’s sort of resentful: that jason gets the therapy and softness and the learning from mistakes when it took years and years for bruce to reach out in any meaningful way to dick.)

7. oooh that was a great scene!

it’s fun to do these stream-of-consciousness live reactions, because the moment you step down from your soapbox, the episode goes right into tackling what you were just complaining about. bruce means well, he’s learning, but he goes about exactly the wrong way to help jason: taking away robin now can’t be read by jason as anything but a devastating judgment call from bruce. and iain glen really sells the moment that bruce realises this--too late--and his helplessness in trying to get jason to see that it isn’t jason’s fault that he’s trying to do this. he loves jason enough that jason is enough. 

7.5. aaaah so jason brings up the elephant in the room at last. dick got everything makes sense from his perspective, where getting to put on a costume and fight crime means approval, means being something stronger and better than you are. dick got to be robin, then nightwing, and a leader of a whole team of other costume-clad heroes. 

8. ... how did jason just walk into arkham????? this is ridiculous.

8.3. i mean, clearly jason’s not thinking straight, but betraying batman like this puts his possibilities of being robin again even further away. 

8.5. watching that chemistry experiment montage was strangely funny. this guy is looking for an antidote to fear? well, constantly mixing up and inhaling gases concocted by a mad-scientist supervillain is something only the very fearless--reckless to the point of foolishness!--would do. what’s to say crane’s not given you a formula for a drug that will keep you tethered to his every will and whim? hmmmm?

8.7. so he sought out the joker to... test the formula??? 

9. wow the “loud and clear... boss” hits different after a whole episode of them referring to each other as father and son.

9.3. waitwaitwait HOLD UP. wait a DANG MINUTE. you’re telling me that scarecrow had enough resources that he could not only have folks on the outside steal jason away and dunk him in a lazarus pit (i TOLD you that this show would bring up and dismiss ra’s al ghul in a ten second aside! I TOLD YOU) but also have his own little chemistry lab in the basement, AND have enough resources for jason to build his red hood persona???????? all of this in barely twenty four hours?

well there goes my ‘jason orchestrated his death’ theory. it was nice while it lasted. *cups hands to the sky* fly away, my baby.

9.6. a part of me is gleeful at the rushed nature of such an iconic transformation though, especially when compared to all the character work that went before it. we’re so used to getting the opposite that it’s fucking delightful to have a show that’s more interested in exploring its characters’ minds rather than battle scenes or recreating transformations from the comics. that’s taken such bold and exciting steps to fully convey all the nuances of its most recognisable character, bruce wayne, from casting an older actor to play him to unflinchingly showing just how damaging the vigilante lifestyle has been to him and the people he loves. BRILLIANT

*sporfle*

10. again, heads up: a whole lot of flashing lights between 40:28 and 42:00. 

10.3. i guess it’s the super-compressed timeline that’s really throwing me off. where did he have the time to get/develop the mind control thing from? or is it something that he got from the cabal of villains that he intimidated at the beginning of 3.02? very messy.

10.5. i love molly, i hope she shows up again this season.

11. aaaand that’s it! that was a solid episode as flashback episodes go, but now i can’t wait to return to the present.

[ejzah]

Here another one suggested by @wanna-be-bold. For the following prompt: Densi's first Valentine's day

A/N: This may be a bit different than what you were expecting. Takes place during season 2.

***

Friends Day

“Hey Partner, how was your weekend?” Deeks asked, sitting down on the due of Kensi’s desk. From the look of things, she’d been there for a while.

“Wonderful,” she answered tightly without looking up.

“I spent all Saturday surfing and the swells were awesome. I think-”

“Deeks, I think it’s really great that you had a good weekend, but I really do not care about surfing.” Kensi’s voice was filled with irritation and she looked pointedly at Deeks’ current location. Getting the message loud and clear, Deeks quietly sat down at his own desk.

Callen and Sam weren’t in yet, surprisingly, and he’d finished his own paperwork the on Friday. Which meant he had little to do except watch Kensi attack her keyboard with sharp, angry jabs of her fingers.

He tried to distract himself by clearing out old emails, but after about 15 minutes, his inbox was squeaky clean. Kensi muttered something under his breath, her tone clearly annoyed.

“Uh, Kens, is everything ok?” he tried again. Even though they’d been partners for about 10 months now, Kensi wasn’t exactly an open book. She preferred to keep things to herself and he was pretty sure didn’t fully trust him with...well, anything.

“I’m just trying to concentrate on my work,” she insisted. Getting up again, Deeks flipped through the stack of files on her desk before she could stop him.

“Those are cold cases, Kens. What’s really going on? I swear I won’t tell anyone, whatever it is.” He meant it too. If she was really this upset, he wouldn’t betray her trust. Sighing in frustration, Kensi closed the file in front of her and tossed it across her desk.

“Fine. If you have to know, everyone I know if making posts about their Valentine’s plans. It’s not good enough that someone is buying them flowers and chocolate and ridiculously overpriced jewelry. No, they have to make sure everyone else knows about it too.”

Deeks gaped for a moment at her diatribe. He hadn’t been expecting that at all. Honestly he’d almost forgotten it was Valentine’s at all since he didn’t tend to celebrate the holiday in any way.

“Um, ok. Well, you shouldn’t let the commercialism get you down,” he said, hoping it wasn’t the completely wrong thing to say.

Instead of looking angry, Kensi seemed to deflate; her shoulders caved and she suddenly seemed morose.

“It’s not just the stuff. It’s all the cheesy posts and declarations of love,” she admitted. “It’s just a reminder that the last good Valentine’s I had was in third grade when Charlie Wheeler gave me a chocolate heart sucker and a card that said ‘I like you’.”

“I’m sorry.” Deeks hesitated for a moment and then reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “But I don’t think most people actually enjoy today that much. It’s more of a kid thing or a day for adults to try and pretend their lives are perfect.”

“I know.” She sighed again and shrugged. Glancing across the room, her gaze turned a little distant. “Sometimes I just wish my life were more normal, you know.”

“I do know,” he agreed. She laughed then, barely more than a huff of air, but he could visibly see her pulling herself together again.

“Ignore me, I’m just being ridiculous,” Kensi said with a roll of her eyes. “But I do appreciate you listening to me complain.”

“Anytime.” They shared a smile and then the moment was broken as Sam and Callen appeared, mid-way through an argument about breakfast sandwiches.

***

It was a long day that ended in Deeks tackling a suspect into a muddy ditch. Not all together the worst Valentine’s Day he’d ever had, sadly enough. Kensi seemed to slowly perk up and by the time the case was closed, she was back to mocking him as usual.

He was surprised to find her waiting for him in the bullpen when he was finished showering. She leaned against her desk, bag over her shoulder, and an expectant look on her face.

“What are you still doing here? I thought you’d want to get home as soon as possible and avoid the love-sick couples,” he said, ruffling his still damp hair as he went to grab his own belongings.

“Well,” she started, pressing her palms together in a gesture he’d come to associate with slight discomfort. “I thought maybe you’d want to get some Chinese or something for dinner. That is if you don’t have a last minute date or something.”

“No, I don’t have a date,” Deeks assured her, allowing a have smile at her offer. “And I would love Chinese. Or really anything at this point.”

“Great. I’ll call while we drive.” Kensi started to walk towards the doorway, but he held up a finger.

“Wait a second, I almost forgot something.” Reaching over his desk, he rifled through the front drawer and removed a couple objects, keeping them slightly hidden against his side as he turned to face Kensi again.

“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously. He cleared his throat, hesitated for a second, and then held out both items.

“Happy Valentine’s, Kens,” he said as Kensi slowly accepted them.

“Deeks.” She shook her head, looking a little confused as she stared down at the chocolate heart and cheap card in her hand. “Why?”

“I figured it’s about time you had a good Valentine’s Day to remember.” He shrugged and gestured to the card. “Sorry, but all the convenience store had left was Hello Kitty theme.”

“This...this is perfect,” Kensi decided after a minute. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now can we get dinner? Cause I really am starving.”

Kensi rolled her eyes, carefully placing the candy and card in her bag.

“You’re such an idiot.” As they walked out, she added, “Happy Valentine’s, Deeks.”

***

Thanks for the prompt!

A/N: Hopefully I didn’t offend anyone with the comments about Valentine’s.

[perthshirecottage]

Okay this wound up way longer than I thought it was going to. I was thinking about little Five in the apocalypse and finding Vanya’s book. Has anyone ever thought about how much Vanya’s book influenced Five and his perception of his siblings? Because I think about that and I haven’t really seen too many posts about that so here’s my two cents.

Five was only 13 when he got stuck in the apocalypse and yet he comes back acting like he knows these 29 years old versions of his siblings. Five obsessively reading the book actually explains why he comes back and immediately thinks every single one of his siblings besides Vanya are stupid and useless despite not having seen any of them in 45 years. The book would have been written to make Vanya the poor sympathetic victim and her father and siblings the villain of her story. 45 years is a long time and I’m sure Five has forgotten plenty of details about his siblings. He still has his own faded memories of the people he remembers and so he might remember bits and pieces that weren’t in the book but those memories would be influenced by the things Vanya had written and perhaps make him question if he was remembering correctly. Not to mention Vanya’s book is the only written account of the kind of people they became and Vanya made sure she was the only one who came across in a flattering light. Five would have read about Klaus and his spiral into addiction and how he stole and lied to his siblings. How Allison became even more shallow and vain. How Luther was almost cruel in his need to be the leader, acting more and more like dad every day. Deigo was selfish and only cared about making sure everyone knew he was better than them and he was angry and bitter when he couldn’t. And Vanya would have written herself as the saint who endured all of this only to be tossed aside like a broken doll that no one wanted. Of course Five is going to lean towards seeing things Vanya’s way. Her voice is the only influence he had on knowing who his siblings became. The only fact that Five would have kept alive outside of Vanya’s influence is that he loves his siblings. I don’t say any of this to diminish what Vanya went through. She *did* suffer. But so did everyone else in that house. And Vanya’s book would not have shown that because she didn’t think anyone else suffered the way she did. She thought she was treated horribly and abused while her siblings were living the high life of being extraordinary and that she had to be the martyr for living through that. So Five, young and impressionable and all alone would have had Vanya’s voice in his ear telling him all the reasons why she was the only good person in that house, the only one that was competent and could be trusted. Five would have felt more of a kinship towards Vanya than anyone else because her book would have endeared him to her. Unfortunately when he got there and Vanya didn’t believe him it went against the Vanya that Five had created in his head. Because none of Five’s siblings were quite the people that Vanya had portrayed in her book, not even herself. And Five has had to adapt to anything the world has thrown at him so he just rolls with it. He also didn’t have time feel any loss at his preconceived notions being wrong because, you know the apocalypse was in 8 days.

I don’t know the exactly what the kids’ relationships were like growing up, and I know that Vanya wrote about how Five was her only confidant. How he was the only one who cared, but that is the voice of someone who is 15 years past what happened and seeing things with rose tinted glasses. I know the popular opinion is that Five and Vanya were the absolute best of friends and everyone else was just sort of there, but that’s based on a head shake, a name called, what Vanya said, and the fact the Five went to Vanya first. That’s not to say that Five and Vanya were not friends, but I don’t think that Vanya was Five’s only friend. Because of their dad’s influence no one wanted to hang out with Vanya that much but since Five did that meant that he was her best friend. And Five left and so those are the memories that Vanya held onto to but I highly doubt that Five hung out with Vanya and only Vanya. The fact that Five had enough love and connection to endure 45 years of hell to get back to his entire family and not just Vanya shows that five had to have had an honest connection to *all* of his siblings. At 13 I’m sure that Five played with all of his siblings and had a relationship with each of them. In flashbacks he was arrogant and smart but also a little silly and playful and he wasn’t as stressed and mean as he is in the show because he hadn’t endured 45 years of trauma. And while yes, I do think Five was probably closer to Klaus, Ben, and Vanya, if only because Allison and Luther were caught and up in each other and Diego had latched into their mom, it doesn’t mean that Five didn’t hang out with people who weren’t Vanya. He would have bonded with everyone else over things that Vanya couldn’t understand. Vanya thought getting a tattoo would have been cool, and wanted one only because she was left out while everyone else knew how frightening and traumatic the whole thing was. Vanya didn’t endure training sessions and know how brutal those could be. She didn’t go on missions and experience how thrilling they could be when they went right but that also meant she never felt the panic and desperation and fear when they went wrong. Back to my point which is that Vanya would have only had good things to say about Five and how close they were. Vanya probably would have written about how everyone didn’t seem to mind that much about Five going missing because that gave them more room to shine and how she was the only one to make him peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches and leave the lights on for him because she was his best friend and the only one who cared about him. so of course Five is going to come out years later remembering how close he and Vanya were because her book would have influenced his memories. He wouldn’t as clearly be able to remember joking around with Klaus or sitting around complaining about training with Diego or those moments where he and Ben would sit in compainiable science while reading or how he and Luther would excitedly talk about whatever new science fact they had learned that day or how he and Allison would laugh over some of the more ridiculous articles that were written about the esteemed Umbrella Academy. Vanya’s account of their friendship would have made Five feel closer to her than anyone else. And I’m sure Five would have felt a connection to Vanya’s portrayal of complete isolation. Five understands on a visceral level what it means to be cut off from everyone and everything and he would have felt this kinship with Vanya over that as well.

Which brings us to season 2. Five still loves Vanya and wants to protect her, but Vanya also isn’t the same person he thought she was. She is more angry and vindictive than he thought. And the rest of the siblings aren’t quite what Five had built up in his head either. Klaus isn’t just a lying junkie, but also empathetic and sad. Diego isn’t just an angry number 2 but has a protective streak a couple miles wide. Luther isn’t just Dad’s lackey but is someone who just wants to protect his family but is floundering in figuring out who he is. Allison isn’t completely focused on herself but wants to be a better sister, a better person. Five is reminded more of the people he knew when he was 13. He is reminded that Vanya has some bad qualities but that those don’t diminish the good ones. He is also reminded that the others are not just the horrid useless people from Vanya’s book, but people who are hurting just like him (even if he still knows he had it worst) and who are good and loving people that he wants to reconnect with. And so seeing them in this new light and also realizing that leaving people out of the loop is what caused the last apocalypse, Five puts more trust in his family and tries to bring them together to stop this new apocalypse. He wants to be closer and work with and spend time getting to know this version of his siblings. In S1 when Five is given a minute to breathe because he thinks the apocalypse is over, he realizes that all he wants to do is grow up and be with his family. He wants to just be, without a mission, without an apocalypse. He is tired of fighting and clinging to rage to keep his adrenaline up just so he can function to get through his exhaustion and pain to save the world. He wants to connect to his family. He wants to know all of them. And Five is willing to do whatever he has to get the chance to truly know his siblings on his own terms and not through someone else’s skewed perspective. Five is even willing to fight Vanya because again, he is seeing that she is willing to toss away all of his hard work because she cares more about her selfish desires than going home which is all Five has wanted for 45 years not to mention the fact that he hasn’t had a single break in two weeks. Of course it’s not just Vanya, everyone does get sidetracked by their own personal problems and Five winds up just about losing his mind. Even older, younger Five shows that Five is automatically going to side with Vanya for destroying the world. This Five hasn’t been rejected by Vanya or seen her get angry or been reminded that his family is more than just the bad people in Vanya’s book so when he finds out that Vanya destroyed the world because she was ignored then he is like yeah that tracks. Five has seen all of his siblings too long through Vanya’s eyes and he deserves the chance to know them himself.

Five has lived far longer without his family than he did with them plus he was so young when he left that he wouldn’t have had that many years of concious memories. So Vanya and her book would have had just as much of an impact on his life as the apocalypse did.

[seanfalco]

Catch me in the Club | Klaus Hargreeves x Reader

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Pairing: Klaus Hargreeves x Reader (same as from Playing with Fire) Word Count: 1844 Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive dialogue

a/n: So this is completely self-indulgent and honestly ridiculous, but ever since seeing the new season 2 promotional posters and learning more about the plot, plus reading this post about Klaus running a strip joint in the comics (which who knows if it’ll even be part of the show or not), I couldn’t get this scene out of my head.  Basically just an excuse to write my Reader and Klaus being 60s’ fashion icons and the shameless flirts that they are.  Also titles are harddd.  Don’t laugh at me lol.

—

Pride might not be the first emotion one would connect with the idea of a strip club, but damn if you weren’t proud of what you’d built — you and Klaus, together.

Finding yourselves stranded in the middle of Dallas in the year 1960 after jumping back in time, you’d come out on the other side very much alone, only Klaus’s hand still clasped in yours; the rest of the Hargreeves nowhere to be found.  Thinking them dead, the two of you eventually settled down, making a new life for yourselves, deciding if you were stuck there then you might as well at least make the best of it.

As you emerged from the back dressing room to walk the main floor, you bobbed your head to the music blaring over the speakers, singing snatches of the lyrics under your breath as your gaze swept the room -- at least you’d been stranded in an era with good music, you thought.  

In the hazy light several topless dancers gyrated and twirled effortlessly around their poles as patrons watched hungrily from the bar, some nursing beers while others stared transfixed, completely forgetting the drinks growing warm in front of them.  You had to admit, there was a certain elegance to the way they moved, and you often found yourself staring, probably more often than you would admit; picking up certain moves to make use of in the bedroom later -- Klaus never complaining.

Speaking of which, you spotted Klaus behind the large circular bar filling the center of the room and you ambled toward him, catching his eye before leaning flirtatiously over the smooth shiny surface.

“Hey you,” you greeted, grinning up at him as he met you with a roguish grin of his own.

You had to admit that the 60s’ surprisingly suited him.  He’d let his hair grow long; his silky brunette curls artfully framing his thin face as they cascaded down, brushing his shoulders.  You probably spent about half your time running your fingers through it, relishing just how soft it was and the appreciative sighs it coaxed from Klaus’s lips as he practically melted under your touch.  

The long teal and cream coloured Nehru jacket he wore today was one of your favourites; his fashion sense just as eclectic and eye catching in the past as it was in the future and the pair of you had swiftly become connoisseurs of a strange mix of hippy and mod fashion which on anyone else would probably just look like a hot mess, but for some reason it worked for you.

The one thing you couldn’t stand was staring you right in the face at the moment and you tugged on it with a frown as you batted your lashes at your boyfriend.  For some ungodly reason you still couldn’t fathom why Klaus had decided to trade in his dashing goatee for the long scraggly abomination that currently decorated his chin and though you tolerated it as best you could, you never missed an opportunity to remind him of your displeasure toward it.

“Hey you, yourself,” Klaus replied with a chuckle, leaning in closer, gazing at you dreamily.

“How goes the front of house?” You asked, slipping up to sit on the bar next to him, planting your hands behind you and leaning back to gaze around the room.

“Oh, the usual,” he mused, “just a lot of horny guys watching some half naked women dance for them.”  You snorted in response, glancing over at him.  “Everything alright backstage?” 

“Just a little drama, nothing I couldn’t take care of,” you answered and Klaus nodded.

“The same old drama?” he asked. 

“The same,” you said, rolling your eyes.  Two of the women were notorious for not getting along, and while you attempted to keep them apart as often as possible they were both drama queens and liked to start shit over the pettiest things.

“Soooo,” Klaus prompted, his hand slipping toward your bare leg; crossed over your knee, your foot bouncing idly.  “Are we still on for dinner later tonight?”  

When his finger traced along the length of your thigh from the hem of your miniskirt down to your knee you glanced down, your lips twitching.

“Of course,” you replied, pointedly taking his hand from your leg with a teasing smirk and turning it to trace the ‘hello’ tattooed on his palm with your finger.  “Is there anything in particular you’re craving for dessert?” 

You could practically feel the shiver as it ran through Klaus and your smirk widened.  

“I think you know exactly what I’m craving,” he purred in your ear, returning the favour as a thrill ran through you as well, warmth and want filling you.  

Unfortunately there were still several hours left til your little date, and you were now feeling incredibly impatient.

Opening your mouth to make a suggestive retort the sound of raised voices caught your attention and your eyes quickly sought out the source of the disturbance, cutting you off.  Across the bar a rather rowdy patron had stood, grabbing one of the strippers and yanking her toward him, attempting to cop a feel.  Without missing a beat you jumped down from the bar, your face a thunderhead as you stalked across the room.

“Hey!” you snapped, stepping between the man and the dancer, murder in your eyes.  “There is a strict no touching policy in place here.  So get your hands off.”

The man swayed, obviously drunk, his eyes sliding from the woman behind you to you, his gaze lazily traveling downward before finally coming back to your face before he released his grasp on the performer.

”Touch any of my employees again and you’ll regret it,” you growled, your voice lowering dangerously as you met his gaze.  As you confronted him the woman quickly slipped away, hurrying to the back room to compose herself.

“Oh, and what are you gunna do about it, missy?  Throw me out?  I’ll just come back tomorrow,” the smug bastard slurred, laughing raucously, glancing over at his buddies.  Crossing his arms over his chest he turned back around, leering at you.

Having caught up to you, Klaus appeared, sweeping in to stand at your shoulder, silently offering you backup in case you needed it.

“No,” you replied, no trace of amusement in your voice as you glared the man down, “first I’ll break your hand, then I’ll throw you out myself.”

“Oooh, real scary!” he laughed, glancing over his shoulder for support from his friends.  “I’d like to see you try, girly.”

His laughter cut off with a yelp as you snatched his wrist, twisting til you felt resistance, the man’s surprise turning to a panicked whine and his eyes locked on Klaus at your shoulder.

“Hey man, w-what the fuck?  C-control your woman, why don’tcha!” he cried, trying to pull away from your grasp, but you only wrenched harder.

Klaus looked from the man to you, a small smile playing at his lips and he shrugged lightly.  “That’s not really how it works around here,” he explained, the look in his emerald eyes decidedly proud.  “She’s the boss and what she says goes, so unless you uh, want the use of your hand, which ooh that looks painful,” he exclaimed, his brows drawing down in faux concern as he covered his mouth sarcastically with his hand, “then I suggest you do as the fraulein says.”

The man gaped at Klaus, his mouth moving soundlessly, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.

Lifting your eyebrows impatiently you gave his wrist one more yank before he was cracking.  “Alright, alright!” he cried, his voice climbing in pitch, “I’ll go!”

“See that you do, and if you try to come back, you’ll find we won’t be as welcoming.”  With a tight smile you released him and he instantly stumbled back, pulling his arm tight against his chest, cradling it as he backed away.  

“You and your girlfriend are fucking crazy, man!” he exclaimed before stumbling for the door, bumping blindly into several other patrons on his way and weaving through the two bouncers who were now looking your way.  Turning your fiery gaze on the man’s group of friends they quickly turned back to the bar, their shoulders hunched as if to say they wanted none of their fellow’s problems.

Clapping your hands as if satisfied you turned to Klaus, finding an awe filled grin on his face.  

“I love it when you threaten people, [Y/N], it’s so hot,” he murmured, reaching for your arm and pulling you close.

“Oh?  You like that, huh?” you asked wryly, cocking an eyebrow up at him.  “Too bad we’re on the clock right now.”

Klaus shrugged.  “Y’know, I really don’t care,” he mused, leaning in for a kiss, hooking his finger under your chin to tilt your face up.

When you pulled back you frowned slightly.  “Klaus, you know I love you, but… when the fuck are you gunna lose that God awful thing?” you huffed, tugging once more on his long beard.

“Aw, but you love me more than you hate my beard,” he pointed out, his lips twisting cheekily.  “I’d say that's a real testament to our relationship, you know?”

“Mhmm, and one of these mornings you’re gunna wake up to the damned thing cut off,” you replied, turning to walk back to the office.

“H-hey!  Hey hey hey,” Klaus exclaimed hastily, hurrying to catch up to you, your airy fringed kimono billowing out behind you in your haste before he caught your wrist, yanking you around and back toward him, catching you in his arms to hold you in place.

“I promise I’ll trim my beard once we get home tonight, okay?” Klaus relented sincerely.  “Will that make you happy, [Y/N]?” he asked, staring down at you with those damn effective puppy dog eyes of his.

“Have I told you yet today how much I love you?” you asked, a smile cracking through.

“Hmmm, I do seem to recall, vaguely, you saying something to that effect this morning, while we were in bed,” he mused, “but I’d love to hear it again, if you please,” he said hopefully.

Resting your arms around his shoulders you grinned up at him, your foul mood instantly evaporating and you were past caring who saw -- it wasn’t as if your employees and regulars weren’t used to this sort of thing by now anyways.

“Klaus, I love you, you wonderful, wonderful man.  Now, we really need to get back to work.”

The silly grin that lit up his face at your words was more than worth it and he laid a quick peck to your lips before pulling away reluctantly.

“Yes, [Y/N], I am your willing slaveee!” he called, bowing to you with a flourish.  “Until later,” he drawled, waggling his eyebrows at you suggestively before he swanned off, and you shook your head fondly as you watched him, biting your lip to keep from grinning too much before you too turned to get back to work as well.

[scripts4dreamers]

Not Your Hero. Chapter 2

Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter three, Chapter four, Chapter five

AN: Just another day on the train ride to nowhere brings Y/N and Finnick a little closer than they’d expected.

Characters: Finnick Odair, Coriolanus Snow, Mags Flanagan

Pairings: Finnick x reader

Spoiler(s): None

Warning(s): Mentions of blood, death, murder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, psychological manipulation, intimidation Prompt/Inspiration: Dead hearts - Stars

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CHAPTER TWO

“And then after that it’s a straight shot to the Capitol,” your escort explained for what felt like the thousandth time, “where the president will welcome us into his home personally. Isn’t that wonderful?”

You kept watching the trees slip past your window, too focused on the comforting rocking of the train to listen to anything Kiki Schofield had to say. The silence stretched on and eventually it was a sharp jab in the ribs from Mags that shocked you back into reality.

“Ow!” you complained, frowning, “What was tha-oh, right, yes Kiki. I can barely stand the wait.”

Your escort sniffed, obviously offended, but quickly regained her composure. The lure of a place of honor at the biggest party of the season clearly outweighed all but the most inexcusable of offenses in her eyes.

“Yes well, Arketia has a lot of work to do with you before you’re ready for that,” she said, “it’s going to be glorious.”

And, with that, she glided out of the cart, muttering to herself about fabrics and lights and all the people she hoped to impress. You sighed and dropped your head back against the couch you were sitting on. At this point, you could think of exactly zero things you wanted to do less than visit the capitol. Just the thought of the candy coloured buildings and bright lights made your skin crawl. You knew what would meet you at the train station too; throngs of screaming crowds filled with grotesquely altered faces all chanting your name, calling out their praises to you like they hadn’t been hoping for you meet some horrible death less than seven months earlier. In fact, many of them had actively betted against you. You weren’t naive, you knew your odds heading into the games had been extremely low. A girl from district five, fifteen years old with no obvious survival skills or weapons proficiency? Hell you didn’t even have Finnick’s outrageously good looks. Yeah...you hadn’t exactly been a low risk investment.

“So, Y/N, what makes you so sure that you can outlive all the other tributes? Do you have any special skills hidden up your sleeve that you can tell us about?” Caesar Flickerman asked, leaning in conspiratorially, his midnight blue suit glinting in the light.

Your heart was pounding like a sledgehammer in your chest, but you fought down your nerves and tried to smile calmly.

“Come now Caesar,” you answered with a light, teasing chuckle, “that would be telling.”

“Oh but just give us a little sneak peak.” He answered, his eyes glinting the way they seemed to whenever a tribute did well, “What is it? Camouflage? Can you hunt? Cleverness? Are you very strong or quick?”

You gasped in mock outrage and slapped Caesar’s arm, “Stop it you, you’ll give away all my secrets.”

“So it was one of those then?”

“Maybe,” you smiled, giving the audience a wink. There was a collective ‘oooooooh’ and you realised, with a start, that you genuinely had their full attention, “all I’ll say is this; don’t count me out just yet. There’s more to me than what meets the eye.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Caesar smiled, kissing the back of your hand as the buzzer rang out signifying the end of your time.

As you walked back to your seat, the roar of the crowd stayed ringing in your ears, filling your chest with the kind of fire you didn’t know you had anymore. It burnt away the icy film of dread that had been clinging to your insides ever since Reaping Day and replaced it a steely sort of hope, a determination that would carry you through the hardest few weeks of your life.

You snorted and pressed the heel of your hand to the center of your forehead. God you’d been naive. Whatever fire you thought you’d had had been stamped out almost instantly. As soon as that first canon had rang out and you’d seen the blood seeping into the grass, reality had hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Hey there,” Mags greeted gently, snapping you back into the present, “you doing alright?”

You shrugged, “As alright as I can be in the circumstances I think.”

Mags sat down beside you, sighing and rubbing her stiff knee, “Well, that’s a start.”

You stared at Mags’ knee. It was an old Hunger Games injury from her days in the arena. She never spoke about it really, but everyone knew regardless. Mags’ games were exceptionally popular in the capitol, so they were broadcasted often, with excited commentary and nostalgic stories from people who revelled in retelling where they were or what they felt when they first saw specific moments. There was never really an escape from it but, somehow she never let it drag her down.

In a way, Mags was a role model for all the younger Victors, a look into what your future held if you made it that far. She was brave and kind and well adjusted, but she was still disposable, still a public spectacle, still a piece in the world’s most dangerous game even fifty-eight years after she spent her last official seconds as a sanctioned tribute. But she was alive. She was surviving it. Even after all these years, she had never given up her fight, she had never given up on herself or on anyone else. It was kind of inspiring.

Mags caught you staring and smiled sadly, “Wounds heal, Y/N, you’ve just got to give them time.”

“The full body polish took care of all my wounds,” you answered, showing her your perfectly smooth arms, “see? All pretty and perfect.”

Mags tapped the side of your head knowingly, but stayed quiet.

“Mags have you seen my-oh-” Finnick said, stopping dead in his tracks.

You looked up and gave him an unsure smile. Finnick Odair was still somewhat of a mystery to you. One day he would be sweet and funny and self deprecating and you could imagine the two of you actually being friends and then the next he would be snarky and cocky and overconfident, jabbing at you at every opportunity. It was confusing, but you knew he was fighting his own battles, just like you were and over the last few days you’d struck up a kind of friendship. There was an unspoken understanding between you that you couldn’t explain, but that you’d come to rely on. Where you were weak, Finnick was strong and where he stumbled, you were steady.

“Hey Finnick,” you greeted.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” he answered.

You shook your head, “No, you’re not. Come sit.”

Finnick smiled gratefully and took a seat across from you, glancing out the window and worrying at his bottom lip. Up close you could see the signs of exhaustion etched onto his perfectly sculpted face. There were dark bags under his eyes and a heaviness to the way he held his shoulders that was becoming all too familiar and something near your heart pinched with concern.

“You doing alright, Fin?” you asked hesitantly.

“Hmm?” Finnick answered, distractedly.

Mags leant forward and snapped her fingers under his eyes, “Earth to Finnick, Y/N asked you a question.”

“Sorry,” he replied, shaking his head to clear it, “yeah, I’m alright.” he fiddled with his hands, “Thanks for-for asking though.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly and leant forward, dropping your voice to a whisper to avoid being overheard, “You look like death Fin, have you slept at all?”

“That depends,” Finnick joked ruefully, looking down at his hands, “what day is it?”

“Fin,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat.

“What Y/N/N?” he smiled, “Who cares if I’ve slept? They’ll make sure I’m all prettied up for the cameras either way.”

“I care,” you retorted, “you do actually need sleep to live, you know?”

Finnick mumbled something vaguely mutinous about not liking to sleep somewhere he didn’t know under his breath but didn’t respond, focussing his attention on the window again.

You studied your friend, noting the way his fingers twisted and fiddled with themselves, as though searching for something, and the constant, ever present flicker of anxiety in his bright green eyes. He was beautiful, of course, after all he was still Finnick Odair, but now he looked worn and afraid, like he was holding himself together by a thread. Something had changed. Each day it got a little worse, and the closer you got to the capitol, the further into himself Finnick retreated.

You sighed again and stood, reaching your hand out impulsively, “Okay, let’s go.”

Finnick’s head snapped up and he met your gaze, staring between your face and your outstretched hand uncomprehendingly.

You rolled your eyes to cover your insecurity but pushed forward, “Come on then, take it.”

“Y/N?”

“Nope, no questions,” you insisted, lacing your fingers with his and pulling him to his feet, “you’re taking a nap right now, whether you like it or not.”

Finnick protested weakly, insisting that he wasn’t tired and that you were being ridiculous, but followed along without too much of a fight as you led him through the train and into your room. As with everything from the capitol, it was absurdly big and luxurious, with soft carpeted floors, tall bookshelves and a fully stocked desk, bathroom, walk in closet and mini kitchen. Your old house could probably have fit in one of these rooms. The usual flicker of disgust rose up in your stomach at the sight of it, but you pushed your anger down and focused on sitting Finnick down, pulling off his fancy capitol shoes and shoving him down onto the pillows.

“Sleep.” you commanded, throwing a blanket over him.

“But what about you?” He argued.

You settled into one of the many cushy armchairs in your reading nook, pulled your feet up onto the seat and pulled out your own, well worn copy of The Chronicles of Narnia, waving it in Finnick’s general direction as a means of explanation.

“Y/N-”

“You said you don’t like sleeping somewhere you don’t know ‘cause you don’t feel safe. Well, I’ll be here the whole time watching your back, so you’ve got no excuse.” You interrupted, meeting his gaze steadily, “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” Finnick asked softly.

You softened, remembering suddenly how younge Finnick actually was. He’d been a victor for four years, but he was still just barely eighteen. A scared kid really.

“Promise.” you answered.

Finnick nodded, probably attempting to be nonchalant, an effect that was ruined by the fact that his eyes were already drifting shut. He was fast asleep moments after his head hit the pillow. You giggled softly to yourself at the sight, placing your book face down on the armrest of your seat and throwing a soft blanket over Finnick’s sleeping body. He looked younger when he was like this, you noted, softer too, and more vulnerable. It made something protective flare to life in your chest, shocking you with its intensity.

You cared about him, you realised, more than you’d thought you would.

You sighed and settled back into your seat, steeling yourself for a long wait, “Sleep well, Fin,” you whispered, “sleep well.”

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

Running, running, heart pounding.

His hands are slick, whether from sweat or blood he can’t tell. The ground squelches under his feet, slowing him down but he can’t stop.

“Come here little boy, you can’t run forever.”

He chokes back a sob and slams his body onto the ground, rolling into a dense thicket of bushes.

Footsteps pass right next to his head. He bites down on his tongue until he tastes blood.

“Finnick,” the older boy croons, from somewhere to his right, “Fiiiinick, come out come out and play.”

His body courses with adrenaline. He wants to fight, to flee, to do something, but he forces himself to stay still. Cassius is twice his size at least, eighteen years old and lethal in hand to hand combat, he could snap Finnick in two without a moment’s hesitation. No, if he fights him now, Finnick has no chance.

But this isn’t right, a voice in his head whispers. Cassius was dead. He’d died from a horrible infection one week into the games, Finnick had seen it happen. So then, who was chasing him?

The branches above his head snap. Finnick has just enough time to look up in horror as the pale, controlled face of president Snow bursts through into his hiding place, snakelike eyes cold and distant as the smell of blood and roses clogs Finnick’s nose, making him choke.

“Finnick my boy, there you are. We need to chat about your future in the capitol.”

“Ah!” Finnick cried out, bolting up like an arrow.

For a second he looked around, bewildered and afraid, sure that he’d catch a glimpse of that white hair, those cold dead eyes. But instead he saw you, curled up in a comfy chair, with a book in your hands and your Y/E/C eyes trained on him with concern. Slowly, he remembered where he was and how he’d gotten there, and a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. Tears welled up in Finnick’s eyes and he leant forward, hiding his face in his hands. Another nightmare, another horrible dream stealing any real chance he had to rest. Would it never end?

Some small part of Finnick’s brain thought he should try and play it off, act like everything was fine with some lighthearted joke or witty comment but, as he felt the bed dip and the weight of your hand settle in between his shoulder blades, he knew he didn’t have the energy.

“Bad dream?” you asked gently.

Finnick nodded but didn’t look up. You made a sympathetic noise in the back of your throat but didn’t pull away.

“I would tell you it gets better but…” you laughed ruefully, “well I wouldn’t really know. I have them every night myself.”

“It does,” he answered, wincing at how hoarse he sounded, clearing his throat before trying again, “it does get better. But they never fully go away.”

“Is that why you aren’t sleeping?” you asked.

Finnick worried at his bottom lip and thought, for the millionth time, of telling you. The capitol was only three days away, he knew you were running out of time. Soon you’d be back in the city, surrounded by strangers with strange clothes, strange voices, strange morals...and then Snow would call you into his office and-Finnick’s heart pinched. No, he couldn’t tell you, Chaff and Mags would have his head on a platter. Better to let you find out later, better to let you have as much time with your innocence as he could help.

“It’s-one of the reasons,” he said, settling for a half truth.

Your eyes met his and, though you pressed your lips into a thin line, there was a determination in your gaze that made something electric tingle down Finnick’s spine.

“I know something’s coming, you know,” you answered, surprising him with the calm in your voice, “I don’t know what, but I know it’s coming, and I know you know it too.”

“I do.”

“But you aren’t going to tell me?”

He shook his head, “No, I’m not.”

You nodded understandingly, the tension slipping from your shoulders as you caught his eye again.

“Well,” you smiled, “that’s alright then.”

Something thin and fragile stretched between you like a spiderweb, making Finnick’s heart stutter and filling him with a sense of deep overwhelming calm. He held your gaze for a moment longer, until he felt heat rising in his cheeks and then cleared his throat.

“How long was I out?”

You shrugged, letting the moment pass, “A few hours, it’s about nine pm right now.”

“Shit,” Finnick said, “shit I’m sorry. I should-I should head back to my room, you must be exhausted.”

“No, it’s fine,” you smiled, “I’m comfy where I am, you rest.”

“But when it gets late-”

“Finnick, this is the capitol we’re talking about, if I press a button in my armchair’s headboard it converts into a bed, I’ll be fine.” you assured, patting his shoulder and getting to your feet.

Impulsively, he reached out and grabbed your arm, stopping you from slipping away. You turned and looked at him curiously, a question dancing at the corners of your mouth. Finnick felt himself blush again.

Stay with me, he wanted to say, stay and keep the nightmares away. But he couldn’t make his mouth move. He barely knew you, you barely knew him, what was he thinking?

“Why’re you being so nice to me?” he eventually asked.

Your eyes softened and you shifted from one foot to another, almost like you were nervous.

“You-uh-you helped me once,” you answered with a small smile, “that dinner,” you clarified when he cocked his head to the side, “you were the only person who knew I hadn’t eaten. I know you told the waiters to send food to my room and-yeah-I guess I never really said thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Y/N,” he said softly, “I was an asshole that night.”

“Yeah well,” you smiled again, “I’m an asshole most nights, so I guess we’re even.”

You detangled your hand from his and ruffled his hair before making your way back to the armchair. Finnick followed you with his eyes, feeling with complete certainty that something important had just happened, but he wasn’t sure what.

“Night Odair,” you said, pulling a blanket over your legs and settling back into your book, “sleep well.”

He nodded, “Night, Y/N.” he said, lying down and turning away from you, “and thank you,” he finished softly, “for doing this.”

For a long moment you didn’t answer but then, just as Finnick’s eyes drooped toward sleep he heard two words spoken so quietly and so sadly that he almost thought he’d dreamed it;

“You’re welcome.”

-------------------- 

Tag list: @i-love-you-green​ , @heatherhollowayst​

[backupblogforjg]

The racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism and cruel tropes in Voltron

So, it’s the anniversary of the ending of Voltron. And I’m getting really, really tired of people saying that only shippers hated the ending. There were many issues with Voltron, and they were neither limited to shipping nor to S8.

So, I’ve decided to compile a list.

It gets LONG. Turns out there was a hell of a lot of racist, sexist, ableist and cruel tropes in VLD.

In fact, I had originally planned on writing a list of both the terrible tropes and the plot holes. But there just wasn’t enough room for both. The post is huge as it is, and with the plot holes, it would have been twice as long, so I had to focus on only one thing.

Salt, obviously. So, so, so much salt. I could turn a lake into a sea here. You’ve been warned.

RACISM:

1) The Alteans are genocide survivors. Out of all the Alteans, only the black Altean was used for a Reverse Racism story where she resents a teammate for belonging to the race that exterminated hers. The white Alteans are totally cool with him, and with his race in general, and only hate the bad people. But the black one had to be taught that hating people because of their race is wrong.

2) VLD Allura is also the only version of Allura who is black. In every other Voltron media (several different cartoons and comics), Allura is blond with blue eyes. All the white versions of the character get a happy ending, while only the black version ends up dying to save the world.

While "hero sacrifices their life to save the world" is not a bad trope in and of itself, it becomes bad when it kills off one of the extremely few black female characters in leading roles. You kill off a white male hero, there are 463278462387 more. You kill off the black female hero, you are kinda screwed. Making it worse, Allura had been portrayed as suffering from depression throughout the latest seasons, so that her death comes across less as heroic sacrifice and more as suicide.

3) The brown Cuban kid who dreamed of being a pilot, and never once in 78 episodes ever expressed anything but sheer love for an exciting life, in the final two minutes of the final episode ends up realizing that the place for him is a farm.

4) As told in interviews, Lotor was meant to be a bad example of mixed-race person, to contrast him with Keith as good example of mixed race person. Do I even have to point out how messed up this is?

5) Even before they became Space Nazis, back when they were still on the side of the angels, the Galra invaded and conquered planets. This is portrayed as totally cool when they happily name the prince after a "hero" who invaded and conquered a lot of worlds, and the peaceful Alteans think the guy is just as heroic as one of their greatest scientists. Apparently there is such a thing as ethically killing people to steal their land.

6) They whitewashed Keith, a character who is poc in every other iteration of Voltron.

I’m sure a lot of people are going to get angry here, claiming that I hate Keith. Let me assure you, I don’t. I love Keith, and I hate what was done to him. I hate that they took a traditionally poc character and went to frankly ridiculous lengths to erase that part of his character. Keith should be Asian, and it would be incredibly easy to make him so in VLD (seriously, all they’d have to do is update the freaking bios, an intern could do it right now in 5 minutes). But they refuse to do it.

A lot of people don’t realise that the surname “Kogane” in VLD is fanon.

I’m serious. Check his official bios page. Keith is not actually called Keith Kogane in VLD. Fans started calling him that in fanfiction, and it stuck, but it’s not canon.

In every other Voltron media, Keith is an Asian guy. But in VLD, they:

- went out of their way to always avoid giving him an Asian surname

- gave him a Texan father

- refused to confirm his race, even when every other character had a specific race. Again, check his official bios. All the other characters got a race, Keith gets “human.” It got so ridiculous it would be funny if it weren’t sad. It pretty much went like this:

Fans: Keith is half alien, but about his human half, what is his ethnicity? EPs: oh, we couldn't possibly say, because the story takes place in the future, and in the future, everybody is mixed up! So, Keith is HUMAN, we can't give him a specific race because there are no specific races in the future! Fans: ok. And what are the races of the other characters? EPs: Pidge is Italian, Lance is Cuban, Hunk is half-black half- Samoan, Shiro is Japanese. Fans: but Keith...? EPs: HUMAN! There is no such thing as race in the future!

Some people at least hoped that Keith's Texan father had Asian ancestry because he kinda looked like Shiro, who is Japanese. But the EPs confirmed that the resemblance was just a coincidence, they never meant for the dad to look Japanese.

At this point pretty much the only evidence that Keith is Asian is that he is voiced by an Asian person. But then, Josh Keaton is not Japanese, is he?

7) After whitewashing Keith, they claimed he is the best leader of Voltron, better than his poc predecessor, because he has Galra blood.

So, instead of bringing up any sort of legit reason to justify why Keith should be in charge (like his empathy or pilot skills), they go with "the half-white guy is also half space-nazi and that's why he should give the orders instead of the poc guy."

If you think I’m bashing Keith here, please ask yourself why you are getting angry at the person pointing out the whitewashing instead of getting angry at the whitewashing. Especially when, again, making VLD Keith canonically poc could be done anytime with zero cost and zero effort, and DW just doesn’t want to.

- Hunk, the half-black half-Samoan guy, was going to be killed and replaced as Paladin by a blue alien. The EPs were pissed when DW forbade them to, and complained in the interview about it.

SEXISM:

Every single woman who is ever put in charge ends up going insane, making terrible decisions that endanger her planet, or losing all of her authority.

Allura starts out as co-leader of Voltron and leader of the Coalition. Ends up as a foot soldier who takes orders from the new leader and his right-hand man, and is treated as a cadet by the Earth military.

HOMOPHOBIA:

1) Dreamworks, Netflix and the EPs very, very, very heavily promoted S7 as GLBT-friendly. The EPs gave whole interviews about the past relationship between Shiro and new character Adam, retweeted a ton of posts celebrating Shiro’s homosexuality, and enthusiastically sent tweets like "you are going to see more of Adam in S7! :D" from their personal accounts after they showed the episode that introduced him.

In S7:

- Shiro's homosexuality is so ambiguous that even the Brazilian voice actor didn't realize that he was supposed to be gay. Just by watching the show, without knowing the World Of God, you can’t tell he and the other guy were engaged.

- Adam gets about 30 seconds of screentime after that one episode they had already shown. Then he dies screaming in pain and terror in a fire.

A lot of people claimed that it was okay to kill Adam because Shiro was supposed to be our rep, not Adam, who was a brand new character we knew little about. And, out of context, that would be true. Adam was pretty much a NPC, why would his death matter?

But the problem here is the context:

- Shiro is closeted in S7, you need to read interviews to know he is gay. So, if only Shiro is meant to be the rep, they couldn’t even do that right.

- They very heavily marketed both Shiro and Adam as gay rep, and specifically talked at length about Adam in several interviews.

In THAT context, REGARDLESS of what you ship, killing off Adam revealed a complete willingness to manipulate the audience to the point of outright lying. Even if you hated Adam, even if Adashi is your NOTP, the clear evidence that the creators had absolutely no problem making empty promises was NOT a good sign.

2) The moment Shiro is revealed to be gay in interviews, he is practically quarantined from the Team.

3) Shiro is also given a Totally Not AIDS deadly disease.

Making it even worse, Shiro never actually gets cured in canon. We are told he is cured in interviews, but the show itself drops the topic entirely. Depending on where you lean in the Word Of God VS Death Of The Author debate, Shiro may be doomed to die.

4) A female villain is revealed to be a lesbian. 30 seconds later she gleefully tortures a little girl. Then she, too, dies in a fire.

(Fan outrage about pulling two Bury Your Gays in the Season that had been very heavily promoted as GLBT-friendly caused DW to retcon her death and bring her back in S8, but she was originally meant to die in the explosion)

5) Shiro ends up marrying a random character who doesn’t even get a name in the show.

ABLEISM:

1) Shiro's PTSD magically disappears offscreen. In interviews, the EPs claimed that he "got over it" between S6 and S7 because "he is a professional." Wow! Who knew being a professional magically cures mental illnesses!

2) Shiro is an amputee. The EPs admitted that they never put any thought into his status as disabled rep, they just wanted a character with a cool-looking arm. It literally didn't occur to them that making him lose his arm (TWICE! First up to the biceps, then up to the shoulder) meant anything. Also worth noting that Shiro’s new arm makes him look like the guy who tormented him.

3) Shiro is systematically robbed of his agency.

- He is the only Paladin who never gets to use his bayard.

- He loses his bond with Black for no given canon reason (and the reason they give in interviews makes no sense, they basically say that transferring his soul out of the Black Lion makes her stop loving him. But she still lets Zarkon fly her!).

I know that Keith is traditionally Black’s pilot in Voltron media (although that shouldn’t matter, because VLD made a lot of huge changes to the traditional status quo). But if they wanted Black Paladin Keith that badly, they could have given some non-insulting reason for it. For example, say “because Shiro has spent so much time within Black, their bond is now so strong that he will get absorbed again if he flies her again.” Or co-pilots in Black (if Pidge can co-pilot with Matt, why can’t Shiro co-pilot with Keith?).

- He is defeated not only by Sendak, but also by a bunch of random Alteans. He basically can’t win a fight anymore unless it’s played for laughs.

- His new robot Atlas is bigger than Voltron, but also much weaker, and can only buy a few minutes for Voltron to come save the day.

- Every single enemy he ever defeated comes back to be finished off by somebody else (even the friggin' Gladiator from S1 comes back in S8). In the epilogue, he retires in his twenties.

4) Narti, the disabled General, is fridged shortly after her introduction. For a while at least it seemed like her death had affected the remaining three Generals, but then it turns out that the "For Narti" line was a trick and they never actually planned on avenging her.

CRUEL TROPES:

1) They intentionally baited the fans by pushing the plot thread that Lotor would be redeemed. They named the episode where he defects "A New Defender," they kept saying in interviews that they come from Avatar and they are very familiar with Zuko *hint hint*, they showed his family as incredibly abusive and Lotor himself as desperate, they showed that Lotor was a victim of severe racism (he is mixed race, and as stated above, the Galra are Space Nazis and are pretty obsessed with blood purity).

Then, after revealing him to be a villain, they gave an interview where they practically dislocated their shoulders by patting themselves on the back as they gleefully bragged that "we made them think we would give them a Zuko, but we gave them an Azula!"

(Nevermind the fact that Azula herself was a 14-year-old child, not a monster, and that Aaron Ehasz himself confirmed that he always wanted her to be redeemed).

When fans who are survivors of child abuse told them that the bait-and-switch was really hurtful, they laughed it off, and claimed that Lotor was just beyond redemption. Then they proceeded to redeem Lotor's abusive parents, who were objectively much worse.

2) Shiro’s clone, who sincerely believed he was Shiro and always meant well, was dehumanised, demonised and discarded like his life meant nothing. His short existence was full of pain from literally the moment he first opened his eyes, as Haggar kept torturing him with migraines to manipulate him. In the end, she brutally violates him body and mind, and brainwashes him to force him to turn on the family he was so desperate to find in The Journey. He dies in incredibly questionable circumstances, without ever getting to learn that his family survived Haggar’s plans. He is victim-blamed for the things she forced him to do against his will with mind-control, and is never mourned because the only family he ever had writes him off as a “thing” and “evil.”

In fact, the horrific treatment of Kuron foreshadowed S8. The Medium article “It never stops at one - Why Voltron: Legendary Defender's tragic ending wasn't a surprise and why more DreamWorks' series will follow suit” explains how.

The tl;dr version is that, when a story posits that the circumstances of your birth determine the value of your life, so that good intentions and hard work mean nothing, and long-established bonds can be discarded with zero thought and care, and your very humanity can be revoked over something you have absolutely no control over, and the whole sociopathic disaster is celebrated as a happy ending... it really, really can’t end well. Not just for you, but for the entire cast.

[unfolded73]

Husbands: Two Years In (3/5) - schitt’s creek ff

This fic is complete, posting every other weekday. While I'm including it as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 5153 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3: Summer

Wherever Patrick Brewer might have expected his the trajectory of his life to lead, even after he’d broken it off with Rachel and left his hometown, even after he realized he was gay and fell in love with a man, he could never have imagined a future that included walking down a sunny sidewalk in SoHo on an August afternoon with a woman like Moira Rose on his arm.

This trip to New York City had been in the works for months, planned for the break between the filming of Crows IV and the date when Moira would need to return to set for season three of the Sunrise Bay reboot. The entire Rose family had converged to visit Alexis on this trip, and this afternoon the plan was shopping, which Patrick had gone along with good-naturedly. He didn’t care about the shopping, but it was still fun to be in a city like this, to people-watch as Moira, Alexis, and David orbited around him. Johnny Rose, meanwhile, was meeting with an old friend and hadn’t joined them for this particular outing.

Alexis and David were several feet behind him and Moira, standing outside the Burberry store and arguing about the merits of a coat. Patrick assumed that even had he lingered to listen, what they were saying would have gone in one ear and out the other. So since Moira had taken his arm a few minutes before, he continued their slow promenade, figuring her kids would catch up when they got bored with their debate and noticed that they’d been left behind. Moira moved gracefully in platform heels and a vintage silver dress that probably cost more than Patrick’s entire wardrobe, a hat and large sunglasses obscuring most of her face as she attempted to avoid being recognized.

At the very moment that Patrick was thinking this, a middle-aged woman stopped in front of them, her hands flying to her mouth. “Moira Rose? Oh my god, I’m a huge fan!”

So the attempt to hide her identity only went so far, Patrick realized, watching Moira’s reaction. She pulled off her sunglasses and smiled. “I’m out with my family at the moment, but I would be delighted to pose for a quick photograph.”

The fan gave Patrick a once-over, seeming to consider and immediately reject the idea that he might be anyone important. Moira let go of Patrick and leaned in, almost but not quite touching the woman, and smiled wide for the two seconds that it took for the selfie to be taken.

“They didn’t really kill you off at the end of the last episode, did they? I mean, no one saw your body,” the woman said.

“Now now, surely you don’t think you can dragoon me into revealing spoilers for Sunrise Bay out here on the street like a common newsboy.” Patrick stifled a laugh at the idea of a newsboy out on the sidewalk, selling papers full of TV show spoilers. “But I do appreciate your apprehensiveness about poor Vivian. It would be an inauspicious ending for her if after all this time, her life was snuffed out at the bottom of that cistern, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Do keep watching!” Moira said with a flourish of her sunglasses to indicate that the woman was dismissed.

“My mom texted me with that same question about your character,” Patrick admitted, holding his elbow out again for her.

“I was trending the night that episode aired,” Moira said, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow as they began walking again.

“You’re very kind to your fans,” he said.

“I remember what it was like to feel like I didn’t have many fans left,” she said in a lower register, her accent less ostentatious, the way it got when she was admitting something real, something true. “I don’t take this revival of my career for granted. Not for a second.”

His heart squeezed in his chest for her, for everything she’d gone through and everything she’d managed to claw her way back to achieve.

“Ooh, that’s a lovely handbag,” she said, leading him over to the window of another store.

Patrick thought it was hideous, but what did he know? “Do you want to go in?” he asked, looking down the street to see David and Alexis had finally started to wander in their direction, albeit slowly.

Moira shook her head, resuming their walk. “After those years of deprivation, I find I’m still not used to buying things on impulse. Isn’t that curious?”

“I mean, it’s no surprise those years left a mark. And being frugal is… wise.”

She smiled at him, then glanced back in Alexis and David’s direction. “Do you know, I find I’ve almost forgotten what David was like before he was with you, Patrick. He’s so… secure. It used to surprise me, seeing him like that, but now it’s who he is.”

He winced at the idea of taking credit for David’s growth. At the same time, he knew that David still had deep wells of anxiety lurking under the surface. Marriage hadn’t turned either of them into different people, much as they might sometimes look idyllic as a couple from the outside.

Before he could respond, Moira’s phone chirped from inside her large bag. “I bet that’s John,” she said as she rooted around for the device.

“There you are,” Patrick said to David as he and Alexis joined them.

“Yeah, no thanks to you, just leaving us behind,” David complained while Moira stepped away and spoke into her phone.

Patrick laughed. “We were a half a block ahead of you, David.”

David reached out and put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. “Yes, but you’re new to the city,” he said with a crooked smile. “You could get lost. Or abducted.”

“I’m sure your mother would have protected me if it came to that.”

Moira finished her call. “I’m going to meet John back at the Plaza and have a little repose before dinner. Shall we reconvene later?”

“We could go back to the hotel too,” Patrick said to David. The Roses were paying for David and Patrick to stay at the same Manhattan hotel, a generous gift that meant they didn’t have to cram themselves into Alexis’ tiny apartment or rent a room in Queens, which David had recoiled at when Patrick suggested it. Pointing out that David had absolutely no logical reason to be picky about hotel rooms, all of which were a step above the place he’d lived for a few years, didn’t sway him.

“I’m still trying to get ideas for your anniversary present,” David said.

“My goodness, have you been married a year already?” Moira asked. “How time does fly.”

David brought his hands up to his cheeks and shook his head in disbelief. “Oh my god, we’ve been married two years, Mother. At least, in a few weeks we will have.”

Alexis reached over and booped Patrick’s nose. “And Patrick hasn’t even mentioned divorce once yet, David, which is impressive.”

“Mm, eat glass,” David said. Patrick grinned — he’d missed their ridiculous banter.

“There’s a gelato place across the street,” Patrick suggested, pointing. He wouldn’t have minded going back to the hotel to rest, but stopping for ice cream would be a good compromise.

David’s eyes lit up. “My husband knows me so well,” he said.

~*~

Patrick let himself be pushed down into the soft mattress, David’s naked body covering his, his mouth working, wet and insistent, against his jaw. “God, good hotels make me so hot,” David whispered.

Chuckling, Patrick ran a palm over the stubble on David’s cheek and back into his hair. “Then it’s a good thing that your parents’ room is on another floor,” he said. He was still a little tipsy from the wine they’d had during dinner at a very nice restaurant, and the process of getting undressed with David once they got back to their room had been a frantic blur.

“A very good thing.” David reached down and cupped Patrick’s hardening cock. “What are you in the mood for?”

Patrick thrust against the inadequate friction David was giving him. “Can I fuck you?”

David squinted an eye closed. “Don’t think I can do that right now, not with the way I’ve been eating today.”

That was fair; Patrick didn’t think he’d be able to bottom at the moment either, now that he thought about it. “Or you could suck my cock?”

“Mm, yes, I can do that,” David said, already sliding down the bed and positioning himself between Patrick’s legs like he didn’t want to lose this momentum, this sloppy, slightly drunken desperation.

The first flutter of David’s tongue against him had Patrick throwing his head back and groaning. But then it quickly became clear that David was in the mood to tease, to savor him, licking him from base to tip with swipes of his tongue like his dick was some kind of obscene ice cream treat, and then only taking him inside his mouth with the gentlest of pressure, not giving him enough suction to get anywhere close to coming. Patrick’s fist clenching in David’s hair only made David chuckle in the back of his throat, like Patrick’s impatience was exactly the goal.

David pulled off, replacing his mouth with his slowly jacking fist. “If you’d let me pack the way I wanted to, I’d have you tied up by now so that I could really take my time with you.”

“I wasn’t going to haul an entire suitcase full of sex toys through customs for a one week vacation,” Patrick said, his hips rising in time with David’s hand. “I wasn’t that interested in giving U.S. airport security a thrill.”

“Your loss,” David said, turning and sucking a bruise into the skin of Patrick’s inner thigh.

When his thighs were mottled with hickeys and David was still only giving him incomplete friction with his hand, Patrick surged up from the bed, flipping their positions. “Your turn to be tortured for a little while,” Patrick said, biting David’s lower lip hard enough to make him grunt.

He worked his way over David’s chest, nosing through his chest hair, pausing to suck hard on one of his nipples, scraping his teeth against the skin stretched over the side of his ribs, then further down to position himself between David’s thighs. He tried to hold out, tried to stretch out the time before he took David’s cock in his mouth, but he felt too hungry for it to wait long. The saltiness, the weight of it on his tongue, made Patrick moan. He still could remember the first time he did this, that night at Stevie’s, and how that final tiny doubt that maybe he wasn’t actually gay, maybe it was just some spell that David Rose had woven, evaporated in the face of how much he loved sucking cock. How he powered through that first blowjob fueled by determination and desire, a puzzle piece of his sexuality slotting into place.

Now he knew David’s responses so intimately, he could play him like an instrument. If Patrick wanted David to come in under two minutes, he could usually manage it. Or he could edge him over and over until David was clutching fistfuls of the sheets and begging, voice hoarse with desperation. Tonight he wanted to tease him, to pay him back for the bruises he could feel now on the inside of his own thighs, but his arousal was pushing him to suck harder, to take David deeper, the tip of his cock brushing along Patrick’s soft palate as he drew him in over and over, matching his rhythm to the shallow thrusts of David’s hips.

“Fuck, I love your mouth,” David gasped. “God, Patrick…” and then he was coming, Patrick letting it pool on the back of his tongue as he soothed David down, slowing and finally pulling off when David relaxed. Patrick swallowed as he wiped saliva from his chin.

“Come up here,” David whispered, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “Let me finish you off. Fuck my mouth.”

Even in the midst of his intense arousal, Patrick was tempted to joke that David was just offering that so that he didn’t have to move, but he elected to hold that comment in as he shuffled up the bed. David put an extra pillow under his head and then grabbed hold of Patrick’s hips, opening his mouth and letting Patrick push his cock inside.

Usually Patrick could grab hold of the strong metal bars of their bed when he did this, but in this hotel he only had the faux headboard that was affixed to the wall. He braced one arm against the wall and reached down to thread his fingers through David’s hair with the other, holding him gently in place as he fucked into his mouth.

“God, that’s hot, David. I love the way you take me,” he gritted out, trying to resist the urge to lose too much control, to thrust too deeply even though he knew David could tap out if he needed. Still, it was an overwhelming visual, the sight of his erection sliding into David’s mouth, and it didn’t take long for Patrick to tip over the edge, crying out as he came, fist clenching in his husband’s hair.

He collapsed at David’s side as David exhaled a long breath, ending on a giggle. “How is the sex between us even better now than it was three years ago?”

Patrick wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical, but he thought about the answer anyway. While he thought about a serious answer, he gave a non-serious one. “It’s the hotel turning you on so much.”

David smiled. “It’s not, though,” he said softly, signaling his desire to have a sincere conversation.

Patrick rolled toward David and settled a hand on his chest, feeling for the thump of his heart. “Because we know each others’ bodies so well,” he said.

“Mmm. By that logic, when we’re in our eighties, our orgasms will be visible from space.”

“Visible?” Patrick asked, laughing.

“You know what I mean.”

Leaving that aside, Patrick said, “Well, by then I imagine that our aging bodies will have something to say about the sex being all that amazing.”

“Impossible. We’re immortal.”

Patrick lifted his head and pressed a kiss to David’s cheek, and then to his lips. “We’re not.” He knew it wasn’t what David wanted to hear, that he was killing the post-coital mood by saying it, but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself. “If we stay together for our entire lives then there will be messy physical stuff. There’ll be… one or both of our dicks will stop working—“

“Okay, that’s not going to happen.”

“It might happen at some point.”

“You can just feel free to smother me with a pillow if that happens to me,” David said.

“But David, if I murder you, I can’t be the beneficiary of your life insurance,” Patrick replied with a smirk.

“Mmkay.”

“I’ll love you even then, you know,” Patrick said. “When we’re old and wrinkled and have unreliable dicks.”

“That’s very sweet, but can we get back to talking about how great the sex is now?” David whined.

Patrick kissed him again. “The sex is excellent.”

David gave him a warm smile, one of those smiles that filled up his whole face and radiated out of his eyes. “It’s nice seeing you so happy.”

Something about the way David said it gave Patrick pause. He pulled back, putting a little bit of space between them. “You say that like it’s a rare thing.”

He could see a spark of worry in David’s eyes. “No, not rare. You’ve been… exhausted a lot this year, and… and I think this vacation came at a good time, that’s all. I’m glad you’re enjoying the city.”

“I am enjoying it,” Patrick said, but his brain was focusing on the first part, the part about how he’d been exhausted. How David had noticed. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want his mental state to be a burden to his husband, or to make him feel like he was in any way lacking. “I’ve been fine.”

“Okay.” David leaned up and kissed him gently. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Patrick shifted over onto his own pillow, watching as David rolled to face the opposite wall, scrunching his pillow under his head. Sometimes Patrick took it as an invitation to be the big spoon, but tonight he turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

He just wasn’t getting as much enjoyment out of things these days, that was all. And that was to be expected, wasn’t it? They’d been running the store for close to four years, so of course the day-to-day tasks had gotten dull. At the same time, the stress of deciding whether it was the right time to open a second location was wearing on him, because no matter how much planning and calculating he did, ultimately it was a gamble. And Patrick wasn’t a gambler.

Meanwhile, the novelty of being a homeowner was wearing off a bit, and he’d found himself focusing on the downsides of it lately more than the upsides. Rather than spending his early mornings in their warm kitchen, looking out onto the back yard and feeling content, he was struggling to wake up when his alarm went off, brushing his teeth and noticing the water-stained vanity for the hundredth time, feeling inadequate because he hadn’t figured out how to fit replacing it into their budget when the Rose Apothecary expansion was looming.

But the truth was, even with all of that, sometimes he did feel happy. He’d been happy while he was planning for this trip to New York with the Roses, looking forward to seeing David with his family again and excited to see what the city was actually like with his own eyes. At times like that, it felt like depression was just in his imagination. It felt like maybe he hadn’t been depressed at all, or that he had been in the winter, but that he was over it now. But at the same time he could feel it lurking in the back of his mind, waiting for a weak moment. Telling him he was a bad son, or a bad husband, or a bad business partner. Telling him that he didn’t deserve David’s love, not when he couldn’t bring himself to get started on fixing up the bathroom.

Patrick lay awake for a long time, listening to David’s sleep-breathing, before finally falling into uneasy slumber himself for a few scant hours before waking with the early morning sun.

While David continued to sleep, Patrick pulled on some underwear and a t-shirt and shifted the curtains aside enough to look out. The view of Central Park from their room was breathtaking, and he paused to wonder how much the Roses had paid for rooms with that view. Unplugging his phone from the nightstand, he went back to the window and took a picture through the glass.

He looked from the window over to David, tousled black hair against acres of white bedding, bare shoulders on display. Patrick took a picture of that too.

After brushing his teeth and taking a shower, Patrick got back into bed to read until a more reasonable hour to wake David up. The rest of the morning passed with a leisurely breakfast and an Uber ride downtown to the Whitney Museum, which David had been talking about visiting for months. It had the added benefit of being close to Alexis’ apartment in Chelsea; they were planning to meet her later in the afternoon.

Patrick soon learned that he and David had different approaches to art museums. Patrick liked to read the placards about each painting, circling each room methodically as he went from painting to painting. David liked to take it all in for a while from the middle of the room before deciding which paintings to approach for a closer inspection, stepping forward and back as he looked for the best viewing distance. His failure to study the text about each painting didn’t mean he didn’t know things about them, Patrick quickly discovered.

“I love this one,” Patrick said as David approached from behind him.

“Mm, I knew you’d be a Hopper fan. What do you like about it?”

Patrick studied the sewing woman’s shoulders, the way her dress bunched, the prominent veins in her hand. “I don’t know, I just like it.”

David was waiting for him to say more, Patrick could tell.

“She looks delicate but also, look at her back and her arm. She’s strong.” Patrick glanced at his husband. “She reminds me of Alexis.”

David pinched his lips together, which could mean he disagreed, or it could mean he agreed but didn’t like that he agreed.

Patrick squinted at the painting again. “So what’s the meaning behind it?”

David waved his hand at that dismissively. “It’s something to do with the post-World War I isolation of the early 1920s, I seem to recall. But it means whatever you want it to mean.”

In the next room, Patrick gravitated toward a couple of strikingly colorful oil paintings of factories, criss-crossed with lines that carved out contrasting geometric shapes on the canvas. As he was reading the name of the artist, David joined him.

“Charles Demuth was gay, you know,” David said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm hmm. He started out doing watercolors of flowers and men in Turkish baths in the nineteen-teens and twenties. Then he switched to painting…” He gestured unhappily at the works Patrick had been admiring. “This.”

“You don’t like these,” Patrick said, although the answer was obvious.

“There’s a theory that he was attempting to shrug off the stigma of being an effeminate man with these Lancaster oil paintings. Also, the art world didn’t take his watercolors that seriously,” David said, twisting up his face like he smelled something bad, and… right. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why David wouldn’t like these paintings.

Patrick nodded, and stepped over to put his arm around David. “Do they have any of the Turkish bath paintings here?”

“Sadly, no,” David said with a smirk, still gazing at the oil paintings. “There’s also a theory that all those smoke stacks are just dicks.”

Patrick barked out a laugh.

Leaving the museum, they went to a nearby café to wait for Alexis. They sat at one of the outdoor tables, a wrought-iron railing topped with pots of white and purple flowers separated them from the foot traffic on the sidewalk. While they waited and David munched on a pastry, Patrick texted the picture he’d taken of Central Park from the hotel room to his parents, telling them that they were enjoying the trip. Then he texted a couple of the photos he’d taken of paintings in the Whitney to his cousin Justin. Justin usually didn’t respond to Patrick’s texts, but occasionally he did.

Justin 🌈: You should have gone to nyc in june for pride

Patrick realized that was a topic he’d never talked to David about. “Were you ever here for the Pride parade?” he asked.

David looked up from his book, eyebrows high on his forehead. “Sure, lots of times. I mean, I wasn’t down in the streets with the heaving mass of humanity, but I could usually get an invite to a party along the parade route, back in those days.”

Grinning, Patrick repeated, “Heaving mass of humanity?”

David scoffed. “You know how I feel about crowds.”

Patrick turned back to his phone. David doesn’t like crowds, he typed. I did learn today about a gay artist who painted a bunch of smoke stacks either to seem less gay or possibly to be super gay. Jury’s out on which.

Lol, Justin responded.

Patrick smiled at the fact that he’d achieved a successful interaction with his cousin.

“David Rose?” a voice called out, and Patrick looked up to see who was speaking. He got a quick impression of an attractive woman with a stylish haircut and clothes before he looked toward David to gauge his reaction to the approaching woman. As he watched, David put on a simpering smile, the one he used with difficult customers, and held out his hand.

“Eloise,” he said flatly. “What a surprise.”

“David, how dare you not tell me that you were going to be in town?” she said, ignoring the offered handshake and sitting down at their table without invitation. “Oh my god, how are you.” She phrased it as a statement, and Patrick doubted if she cared how David was.

“I’m very good — in town for a few days to visit Alexis.” Patrick felt David’s hand settle on his shoulder, scratching absently. “This is my husband, Patrick. Patrick, this is Eloise; she’s an old friend.”

Eloise’s eyes widened as she took Patrick in. “Hi, nice you meet you,” Patrick said.

“I feel like maybe I heard that you got married? And I didn’t believe it. David Rose wouldn’t get married, I said. No way.”

David’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I did. Two years ago.”

“But you’re not living in the city? Surely you’re not still in… where was it? Somewhere in Canada?”

Here it was, the thing that still nagged at Patrick every time David expressed displeasure with Schitt’s Creek. Every time he acted disgruntled about the lack of restaurant options, or grimaced at Jocelyn’s opinions at a social gathering. Because the reason they were ‘somewhere in Canada’ was that was what Patrick had wanted.

“Our store is in Canada, yes, so that’s where we are,” David said, and to his credit he didn’t look the least bit ashamed of that fact. His fingers continued to move over Patrick’s shoulder. “Patrick and I own a lovely cottage on quite a large plot of land out there for a fraction of the cost of a one bedroom apartment here. We love it.”

“But the culture, David. How do you live without the culture?” Eloise asked.

David smirked. “How much culture did we really take in back in the old days, Eloise? The VIP section at the hottest club of the season isn’t exactly the Guggenheim. Besides, we get back here to visit Alexis regularly.” Regularly meaning once in two years, Patrick thought, although they did intend to visit more often in the future, now that there was more money coming in from their online sales.

Eloise immediately started talking about herself, about parties she’d been to or people she’d seen. Patrick tuned her out — she hadn’t shown any interest in him and the feeling was mutual. He watched people passing by on the street, walking dogs or going quickly to jobs or moving slowly and hesitantly like tourists. Eloise quickly seemed to run out of steam, maybe because David wasn’t hanging as desperately on her every word as she wanted, and she stood from the table.

“I’ve gotta run, David, but how much longer are you in New York? We really have to catch up.”

“Absolutely,” David said, standing with her. “I’ll text you.”

They kissed in the vicinity of each other’s cheeks and Eloise loped away, her attention mostly on her phone.

David dropped back into his seat with a puff of air.

“Nice lady,” Patrick muttered.

“She’s a monster,” David said. “I’m not texting her.”

“Uh huh, I cracked that code.”

David laughed softly. “Wow, she was boring.”

“Probably not as boring as your husband, to be fair.”

That made David’s eyes flash. “You aren’t boring.”

Patrick chuckled, fiddling with a spoon on the table. “Yeah, I’m super interesting. Is it my knowledge of tax law or my books about baseball that do it for you?”

David looked a little bit hurt at that. “Everything about you does it for me,” he said seriously.

Alexis arrived at that point, interrupting them, and Patrick rose from his seat to accept her cheek kisses. David excused himself to the restroom.

Watching him go, Alexis said, “Is he okay?”

“Oh, some old acquaintance of his was just here.” He frowned; that wasn’t what had bothered David. “Actually, I think it’s me that’s been making him anxious.”

“Well, don’t do that, Patrick,” she said with a frustrated groan and a birdlike bob of her head. “Surely you know how to manage David’s anxiety by now.”

“No, I do, but…” What should he say? That he couldn’t exactly be the guardian of David’s emotions when he was struggling with his own? That he swore once, standing with David for the first time in front of their house, to make David happy, and that now he was doubting his ability to do so?

“Anyway, did you guys have fun today?” Alexis asked, unaware of his inner turmoil.

“Yeah,” he said, because he had. “David could have been an art museum tour guide in another life.”

Alexis nodded. “Because he talks too much and thinks too highly of his opinions?”

“I was going to say because he knows a lot about art, but sure, that too.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t wear yourselves out, because Mom and Dad have plans tonight and so we are going to go out and party like the young and vital people that we are.”

Patrick felt exhausted at the prospect of such an outing. “I mean, some of us are getting close to forty; I don’t know if young—”

Alexis flapped her hands. “Ugh, just David. You and I are young still.”

Laughing, Patrick consciously relaxed his shoulders. He could go with Alexis’s flow, surely. He was on vacation, after all.

Which was how he found himself a few hours later, a tiny bit drunk and grinding against David on the dance floor of a gay bar that Alexis had dragged them to. It was ridiculous and they were maybe too old for this and yet he loved it, loved getting to have this experience that he’d been robbed of by not figuring himself out sooner. Loved being sweaty and a little dizzy and watching a man with criminally nice arms dancing just over David’s left shoulder while David grinned at him.

“I love you,” Patrick shouted over the loud beat, euphoria swelling out from the bubble around him and David to encompass the other people on the dance floor and the DJ and Patrick’s sister-in-law, who appeared to be flirting with the woman tending bar.

David squeezed his ass in answer. “I’m glad you’re having fun,” he said against Patrick’s ear.

“I am,” Patrick said honestly. At a time like this, unhappiness seemed impossible.

(Chapter 4)

[isabeladraws]

this took longer than i wanted to, hopefully you don’t mind! i wanted to make a big thread of random thoughts that came into my head. i decided to answer this way so i can put a cut and people don’t have to read this ridiculously long post!

sunday and beckett pregnancy hcs 🌷👶✨

beckett knows sunday is pregnant before herself. during her period week he knows her mood changes and how horny she sometimes can be. her period is very regular and he knows what to expect and how to comfort her during it. but, it never came. he was busy himself and didn’t realise it until that time of the month was well past them.

“sunday, is everything alright with… you know.. your period?”

“what do you mean?”

“it’s late. your period is never late”

“i think it might be from stress of the games. it’s been madness!”

beckett didn’t seem reassured but he let it go. she knows her body better than he ever could. sunday however was starting to have doubts so she buys a pregnancy test and wouldn’t you freaking know it… it’s positive.

beckett knows when sunday looks at him after she takes that test. he doesn’t even have to see it to believe when she says “you were right… i’m pregant, b”

he hugs her like never before, lifting her off the ground, swaying her in his arms. beckett cries a little, sunday does too. the shock is so big, it wasn’t planned but at the same time, very wanted.

“only beckett harrington to figure out when a girl’s period is late”

“hey, it’s a great few days for said beckett harrington”

“well, too bad they won’t be happening for a while”

“i wouldn’t change a thing, sunday. i love you”

“i love you t- WHAT IF IT’S TWINS BECKETT????!! we cannot handle two babies at once, can we?? omg mom is going to freak out, and atlas… we’re gonna be PARENTS! BECKETT WHY ARE YOU SMILING, YOU NEED TO FREAK OUT WITH ME!!”

they only tell atlas and shreya during the first trimester. sunday knew atlas wouldn’t be able to keep the secret from shreya and shreya would figure it out in 10 minutes anyway. they’re happy to have someone to talk to about it.

it’s the 6 week apointment, sunday had only had a blood test to confirm the pregnancy and passed with flying colors. beckett was with her of course and they were excited to see baby.

the doctor found one baby and they smiled, everything looked healthy and 10 seconds later the doctor is like oh looks like there’s two! oh my mistake, there are three babies in there!

beckett didn’t faint because he was already sitting down. sunday saw her life flash before her eyes.

“what?” said both of them

“yeap, three heartbeats, it’s too early to tell if they might be identical or not”

“are you absolutely sure, doctor?” asked beckett

and the doctor showed them in the ultrassoung machine, three black voids filled with a white dot each and their pulsing hearts. they were having triplets.

i believe pregnancy with multiples need to monitored way more often than ones with just one baby so regular appts for these two. beckett hates missing them but they’re both busy

beckett would still be studying and working freelance (i still have no concrete idea what his job would be, maybe something with writing/research?)

sunday is told to slow things down so she takes a break from the team before quitting altogether 

i haven’t decided on the triplets birthday yet but i’m leaning torwards scorpio/sagittarius season (maybe aries season too?)

beckett and sunday still travel quite a bit 

sunday feels pretty great for the most part, i think the hardest part of her pregnancy is towards the end

beck really wanted to take a photo of sunday each week and see the growth of their babies;  he made a whole album with his thoughts and hopes for their family and gave it to sunday after the babies were born

they travelled to quite a few places during the 9 months, maybe 6 to 7 different locations. sunday being at home more and feeling pretty good during the 2nd trimester they took a few roadtrips to places close to them

atlas and shreya moved out of their shared apt so beckett moved in with sunday right before they found out they were pregnant

i don’t know if they’d be married at this point in time or not

they would have been living together before getting pregnant, sunday would spend most of her time at beckett’s place but she wasn’t “officially” moved in because she travelled quite a bit due to thief and the games 

to me, for some reason, their lives seem hectic and busy af after graduating, everything happens at once for them

getting signed with a thief team, beckett getting acknowledged for his skills and scoring independent jobs and working on his masters, sunday is travelling all the time

i feel like beckett one day, in the midst of all the business, while they were still half asleep in bed was just like “marry me” and sunday thought she was actually dreaming. there was no way this boy was asking her to marry him right now 

“what” she kinda giggled “marry me” he sounded so serious she woke up and sit up

they stayed in silence just staring at each other for a while until they started smilling and the thought really sank in, it was barely morning 

“sunday, marry me” 

“i think i’ll need to hear that again a few more times”

did they elope later that afternoon?? WHO KNOWS 

back to your scheduled programming of pregnancy with triplets:

sunday got real swolen, painfully swolen at some point in time. 

weird cravings of butternut squash everything. beckett became quite good at using it in a variety of recipes

sunday really missed her job during her pregnancy and felt quite lost. she felt her only purpose was to carry these kids around and moan back pain every 5 minutes. 

but she also realised she didn’t want to do thief after becoming a mother. that chapter felt like it was closing for her and she needed to take a step foward into a new career path (i have yet to figure it out)

very cranky and moody sunday. she also hated getting advice from her mom on her pregnancy. it would just annoy her

atlas got real good at getting these two away from each other

god atlas as an AUNT wow

she really started to fear sunday at the end of her pregnancy like... the look sunday would give when she was pissed off ... oof 

atlas and beckett are the only ones sunday wanted with her when it was delivery time

i imagined it was most likely a c-section? would there be more “innovative” ways in the magick world to give birth?? 

moving on that’s not important

beckett studies pregnancy yoga intensely so he can teach sunday

tmi.. or nsfw... sex is pretty fun 

sunday thinks it will be 2 girls and one boy, the girls being identical 

beckett thinks it’s 3 girls

they restored their baby blanket atlas found and used it in the nursery

sunday and beckett did not find out the sexes of the babies until birth

(it was a bet. sunday was actually the one that was DYING to find out and lost)

shreya was the only one that guessed correctly (2 boys 1 girl) 

bougie ass baby gifts from shreya. special one of a kind super gentle lotion, shampoo. baby shoes, oils and butters for stretch marks, blankets with their names on it, literally you name it

there’s something about baths... sunday would never take them but it became nighttime ritual at some point

beckett is very aware of people’s names now that he has to name 3 kids and is VERY opinionated 

he even starts to question his name, sunday’s name, everyone else around him “you have a such a weird name sunday, what was theia thinking” “COME SAY THAT TO YOUR PREGNANT WIFE’S FACE, HARRINGTON”

sunday needs to pull a break on that for a while so they stop throwing name ideas for a few weeks 

they agree on marlow first, sunday suggests it and beckett isn’t much of a fan until he finds himself using it in his head. when he sees his baby boy he knows it’s his name 

they had one unexpected visit from the sources to congratulate sunday and beckett on the pregnancy and marriage. i’m pretty sure gemma called selene’s wood attunement.

sunday does not want anyone touching her belly but she’s kinda anxious about it so atlas is always ready to fight somebody’s hand off

god can u imagine these sisters coming this far in their lives, sunday is going to be a mother, atlas an aunt how happy atlas is to be able to see a future she thought would be lost after so many years of running from raife and the heartache and loss. I AM EMOTIONAL. 

doting aunt atlas like she SPOILS these kids to death

katrina might have a kid of her own at this point in time, since she’s older than beckett? sunday would appreciate her advice way more in comparision to her mother’s. (i could also see katrina not wanting kids but i don’t know if she has hinted either way)

beckett’s family has been a bit harsh when it comes to sunday’s job but she wins everyone over eventually so they do find themselves falling in love with her. they find sunday so warm and kind and easy to talk to. his parents are so happy to be grandparents of three kids no less, and are prepared to spoil them to bits. 

i can see her with the harringtons spending the summer together, his mother talking about when beckett was a baby himself which seemed not that long ago. 

the boys share a room in their grandparent’s house while selene has one of her own once they’re about 5/6 years old. while they’re toddlers, they do sleep in the same room together. 

they really do dote on these kids. beckett has never seen them this affectionate before in his life. 

beckett’s father and jett bond very nicely. both are a fan of sports. 

zeph and griff give sunday and beck so many delicious homecooked meals they can freeze for after birth but also to eat whenever they want. 

zeph got the tendency of showing up like “my abuela cooked extra this week so i thought i’d give you some for dinner”

they do not complain once. the meals are delicious

zeph really enjoys babysitting the kiddos, especially as they get a bit older and start to waddle around, speaking gibberish you understand but not really. the kids are really impressed by his water tricks. bath time is a mess (with him and in general tbh)

beckett and sunday have one big fight during the pregnancy. sunday is feeling lost and weird about her career, job, path in general and beckett always has something to say instead of just listening which frustrates them both. they fight all day the first time but can’t go to sleep angry so they talk it out during the night. neither of them has much sleep but they settle things down, beckett just listens and explains where he came from, apolagizes, sunday too, they figure it out in the end. this comes up again but sunday just points it out to him what he’s doing and he’s like “my bad, babe”. 

sunday eats pretty much plant-based during the pregnancy apart from having a few eggs here and there. she has this aversion of meat, it sounds disgusting to her (marlow’s influence?) 

beckett sings to the babies a lot, sunday falls asleep to it often

i can see beckett having choir lessons when he was younger and actually being a pretty good vocalist

atlas buys baby things ALL THE TIME. goes jogging, sees a random store “oh sunday i found this dumb ass onesie, here” “i saw this arylu plushie and thought the kids would like it” “this muslin cloth has cat butts on it, let me get that 1 for each kid” sunday literally doesn’t need to buy anything because everyone is buying them baby stuff 24/7 

shreya planned the baby shower where they basically just asked for diappers and ended up with high-tech baby stuff, beckett was actually pretty intrigued by some of them

massages. everyone that goes into that apt just sees beckett rubbing some lotion on sunday and massaging some area in her body, feet, back, legs. towards the end it’s a must if sunday wants to walk around for more than 20 minutes without being in pain.

if you finished reading this, congratulations! here, have a 🍄.

this is already so freaking long and even though i feel like i could get some more hc’s going i’m gonna stop here and save any that i find important for another post. let me know what you guys think and don’t mind the typos too much  I’M SICK🙈

[nickblaine]

season 3 script summaries (nick)

first of all - special thanks to reddit user cablab123 and @dystopiandramaqueen​​ for making phonecalls to the writer’s guild that resulted in them getting the season 3 scripts from the studios this soon 💖 we have these because of you!

just to clarify, these notes are about nick scenes only. am i biased? yes. will i go back and read the rest? i don’t know. i didn’t like this season, so i don’t have much energy for it. but i did read the other cut scenes which i will summarize in another post later. this one is about nick.

reminder that anything i put in quotes is direct phrasing from the scripts. however there are copyright laws in place, which is why i can't provide copies or photos. edited to add: because i’ve seen some doubts about my authenticity, click here for proof.

i do accept questions, but i will only respond if i have an answer. i may come back and respond eventually if i find the answer on a future library trip.

possible spoiler warning: there are 2 cut scenes in here which may or may not be considered spoilery if they use them in season 4. the cut scene from 3x12 in particular could be a big indicator of what’s to come next season.

finally - please do not share this post without my permission, and thank you in advance for respecting my wishes.

3x01

nick has fred trapped in the room. after serena says, “we should give her more time to get away,” and leaves, fred turns to nick and accuses him of having so little respect for their family that he would involve them in his crimes. nick straight up tells fred, “I did it for her. For June.” it says fred knew this but hearing it shakes him up. this is the catalyst for their open disdain for each other from now on.  

there was more to nick & june’s argument that we didn’t see, which showed june regretting staying in gilead. after she says “don’t you think i know that?” she breaks down and admits: “I fucked up. I fucked it all up. I should’ve gone. I’m a fucking idiot. But I couldn’t leave her here, I couldn’t leave her behind.” nick feels deep sympathy for her after this confession, and they let go of their anger and share an embrace. i’m real mad this got cut, it showed a lot of june’s vulnerable side.  

after the house fire, nick is leaving and: “June searches for something to say. Goodbye? I’m sorry?” but she can’t because they’re in public. originally he said “Take care” and she settled on “Bless you.” (personally, i think i like the onscreen version better.)

3x03

there was lots of nick “finding this exchange excruciating” during the commander meeting at the lawrence house. he just wanted to help june the whole time joseph is tormenting her. they are “desperate to communicate” throughout this scene. also, joseph was carefully observing nick, june and fred the whole time. they never explain why, but june seems to think he’s just amused by it all.  

when nick came back to visit that night, he and beth share a sweet moment at the back door. nick asks her if she’s okay. beth tells him she’s scared shitless. he comforts her with a hug, during which she jokes, “You look ridiculous in that get-up,” and nick says, “I know.” (i love beth and nick’s friendship... i wish they didn’t throw away the opportunity to show it this season.)  

when nick goes upstairs, his and june’s conversation was written to be a lot less cold than it is in the final cut. june immediately goes to nick for comfort when he comes to her room. “She needs him desperately. She needs his help.” but the news of his deployment shakes her. they are both described as infuriated by their situation, and “drowning in their own futility.” when june opens the door and invites nick back in, they share a kiss and “wrap themselves around each other. For the last time.” 😭 then june closes* and locks the door (to juxtapose her old bedroom with the door that never locked.)   *still disappointed by that closed door? see here!  

3x05

in luke’s tape, june is scripted to say, “You met him. He helped me to survive. I was in love with him." the description of luke’s emotions here say he feels stunned as well as “relief that Nichole isn’t the product of rape... and yet, June found love. She moved on.”  

3x06

when nick and june reunite in DC... nick was spicy during that prayer scene 🔥 june could feel him trying not to look at her. and this line killed me: “His fingers trail, just barely, over June’s hip. Across her bare fingers. On June, feeling his hand.”  

nick and june’s kiss in the snow did not have much description. just lots of natural chemistry on max and lizzie’s part. also, they were supposed to share one more kiss after nick agreed to meet with the swiss. speaking of...  

NICK. MET. WITH. THE. SWISS. people can stop claiming he ditched his daughter now. the script makes it clear. nick walks into the room with mattias and meets lena and sofia before the scene cuts. we don’t get to see what they talk about, but he tried to do the right thing for holly per june’s wishes, against his better judgement.  

no further explanation for why the swiss don’t want to work with nick. when lena tells june she can’t work with nick, all it says is that june’s “association with Nick has left her somehow tainted.”  

june feels “betrayed” by learning that nick was a soldier in the crusade, and continues to throughout the season. though the script never explains why she feels so betrayed by something that she has done herself (killing innocent people under orders) or why she is so quick to believe serena joy when she is familiar with her manipulation. her thoughts in that scene are described as she is “absorbing the fact that Nick was a terrorist.” take that as you will. however, the following scenes clarify exactly what he did...

THE TRAIN SCENE: there’s a very important line describing how nick really feels about being a commander: “The troops salute him. Nick returns the salute, hating all the choices that led him here.”  

immediately following that line is a cut NICK FLASHBACK! here’s the summary: nick was in DC during the coup. he was on guard duty. yep, big bad terrorist war criminal nick blaine was a glorified security guard. in this scene, nick and a young soldier named trevor are guarding an empty basement stairwell in the capitol building during the coup. trevor is complaining that they are “mall cops” while “everyone gets to actually do something,” meanwhile nick is described as “looking sick.” then there is an explosion in the stairwell, followed by a brief shootout where trevor is killed. nick shoots back “out of instinct” and it’s revealed he’s killed a capitol security guard and a bureaucrat.

immediately after the flashback is the cut shot of nick (above) looking sadly out the window, remembering those choices that led him here.  

it’s worth noting that the flashback scene contrasts starkly with serena’s words just prior, which were scripted as: “He served Gilead. He believed in something greater than himself. He was a soldier in the crusade. We wouldn’t be here without him.” so it seems pretty clear they are setting this up to be misjudgment on june’s part.  

the shot of nick looking sadly out the window was supposed to be followed by a parallel shot of june looking sadly out the window of the winslow house, reflecting on her meeting with nick the night before. 😢  

3x10

just wanted to note here that despite june feeling “betrayed” by nick since 3x06, when fred suggests transferring her to DC she actually considers it could be a good idea because she would be “closer to Nichole. And maybe even Nick.” so he is not absent from her thoughts.  

3x12

warning: the following scene may be spoilery for season 4??

thank god, we were right about a cut scene in this episode. there was exactly one (1) nick in chicago scene, and it took place immediately after luke punches fred. and just like max said, it confirms nick has been one step ahead all along.

in this scene, nick is observing the war in chicago and talking with his “lead commander” (pictured in the promo still above.) the lead commander tells him that they are being transferred to lake huron to put pressure on toronto in lieu of waterford’s capture and winslow going missing.

nick - hiding his shock at this news - carefully presses for more info. the lead commander doesn’t have anymore to say about waterford, but he laments the fact that this means he’s not going to get his weekend leave and that his daughter will be disappointed. his daughter’s name? agnes. that’s right, the big reveal of this scene is that nick is now working directly under commander mackenzie, and it is no coincidence. the scene ends on nick, “watching [mackenzie] walk away, wheels already turning.”

guys... this means NICK IS GOING AFTER HANNAH!

this must be what max was referring to when he said that everyone is in an interesting position for season 4 in this interview. so much for him being irrelevant to june’s story just because he’s a dude, i guess. 🤷‍♀️

there was also a whole bombing action sequence in this scene including fighter jets, it sounded very extra and VFX-intensive. nick and commander mackenzie are watching it all go down from a distance while they talk.

i can’t say for sure why these scenes were cut, but the producers served up 3 different sets of excuses, some of which don’t line up with what was written (e.g. “strictly june’s perspective” ...sure 🙄) so it’s safe to say that whatever led to them cutting these scenes out, we will probably never know for sure. but i do know they were filmed and the decision was made post-production, we have evidence of that.  

additional observations:

there is still no real explanation for why or how nick got promoted to commander, and i don’t think they ever will. it appears to me that it was just another contrived plot point so they have a reason to send a low-status driver into war.  

while i am glad they softened the extent of nick’s involvement in the coup, it also makes it harder to understand why he said he was “due” a promotion to commander when his contributions to gilead are so relatively insignificant. again, we may never know.  

there were several cut voiceovers of june praying to god throughout the season, and despite calling holly mainly by “nichole” in dialogue, she only referred to her as holly in her prayers. so her real name is still holly. i will die on this hill.  

commander mackenzie mentions to nick that the move has been hard on hannah but the script does not clarify where they have moved to. hannah and mrs. mackenzie are presumably far from the great lakes region because nick’s response is, “May God bring you home to her soon.”  

can we talk about how nick has an active plan for hannah? and how he never gave up on his promise from 2x03? and that while june has lost all hope of seeing her daughter again, she has no idea how close nick is? and that this is sounding a lot like one of my fics? hire me already bruce. these are things i think about A Lot  

lake huron means nick is going back home to MICHIGAN so rebel commander blaine is back on the menu boys  

nick in the script is - as always - a bit more rough and forward than what we see onscreen. max has a talent for softening nick’s interactions with june and showing respect with his body language, while maintaining the intensity between them. i also cannot praise enough how much he makes out of little to no script direction and minimal dialogue.  

that sweet, sweet vindication of confirming yet again that nick is worth a lot more than viewers (and june) give him credit for. i only hope his value in this story isn’t realized too late.  

(gif credit: @splitscreen​, @outlassed​ & me)

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (17/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: Everyone enjoying all of these post-season games? Even if your team has already lost like mine 🙈 Anyways, we’re back in London for one more chapter here and @resident-of-storybrooke is still the mvp for reading all of these words. 

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

Emma can feel Killian’s nose nudging between her shoulder blades, his scruff scratching at her skin, and as good as it feels, she can’t help but curl further into her pillow and bring her knees up to her stomach, hoping that he’ll leave her alone so that she can sleep longer. So much longer. Jet-lag is a bitch, and she just wants to sleep forever. They don’t even get a day off when they get home, and just thinking about it has her dying.

Why in the world did she get sent over here when she’s only writing an article and doing social media stuff? Jeff should have come with her, Ruby too, but right now, she can’t really complain.

This bed is really soft.

London is wonderful.

Killian smells really good right now. He shouldn’t smell this good this early in the morning, and he probably got up to brush his teeth and put cologne on or something stupidly wonderful like that.

But she’s tired, and all she really wants is to sleep some more and for the pleasant ache between her thighs to lessen a bit so she won’t be thinking about it all day long. It’s a wonderful memory to have to think about as her day goes on, but still, a girl has got to be able to walk without her mind going to weird places.

The new phase of a relationship is so damn fun.

Sighing, she hugs her pillow more closely and keeps her eyes shut only for Killian to place the softest kiss in existence on the back of her neck that has the shiver multiplying its intensity by ten with each new vertebra that it reaches.

“Did you know that you are a kicker in your sleep?” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and gravely like it always is in the mornings. She really likes that. Like, really. “And that you are also a heat seeker, and I am in no way safe from your assault.”

“That sounds like a hard life,” Emma mumbles, still not bothering to open her eyes.

“The hardest. Do you know that we’ve only ever spent the night together in hotels? You’ve never even seen my bedroom. We somehow have never made it past the living room.”

“You’ve never seen mine.”

“True,” he sighs as his hand inches over her waist so that his nails can run over her stomach, making the muscles flutter. Or maybe those are the damn metaphorical butterflies. It doesn’t matter. “We should remedy that when we get home.” Home.

He means New York. He doesn’t mean his apartment or her apartment. He simply means the city they both happen to live in, but knowing that doesn’t change the way her heart is hammering in her chest, that residual feeling of being terrified that this is all going to blow up in her face still lingering. It’s not there as much as it used to be, some of the fear tampering down the more comfortable she becomes with Killian, but as old ones fade away, new ones emerge like one of those creepy aliens in movies.

Killian isn’t like Walsh or Neal or any of the people who have hurt her. Anyone with half-functioning eyes could see that, and it’s reaffirmed in how he supports her every day. He sends her articles she’s written in the past with little notes attached to them on what he thinks. Sometimes he shares links to YouTube videos of her interviews, asking her how she noticed the strategy they employed to win that day or simply complimenting her on thinking on her feet when she gets put in a tough situation. The only people who could possibly support her more are Ruth and David, but Killian is very much inching up to the top of the Emma Swan fan club.

He’d probably make t-shirts. Several. And wear them under all of his clothes, the dork.

Dark and broody but also dorky. That’s how she’d describe him if she had to in three words or less.

So she’s not worried that he’s going to demean her or belittle her or make her feel unworthy like she has felt in the past, but there are so many other ways for him to hurt her. Their relationship getting out, for one, could destroy her professional credibility, at least for a little while. That’s something she thinks about every time she sneaks out of her hotel room and into his. It’s ridiculous hard to find a time when someone isn’t in the hallway. But what if he’s secretly shitty in some kind of other way? What if he doesn’t continue to be so open and honest with her? What if he realizes that her hang-ups are too complicated? What if he realizes that he doesn’t want to be patient with her when she does have her freak outs? He’s so damn patient with her, always waiting for her to make the move before he does, and there’s no guarantee he won’t get tired of that.

Why is this the morning that she thinks about this?

Probably because the reality of them telling their friends and family is hitting her. It was her idea, the guilt of lying to everyone overwhelming her, but now the actuality is overwhelming her even more.

Last night, she told Killian that she would go to Addy’s birthday party under this insane plan that he has of them fake running into each other in the hallway, and the reality of meeting his family is kind of freaking her out. She’s never met a boyfriend’s family before, which was always such a blessing, and now she’s invading Killian’s niece’s birthday party.

Where his brother, who he absolutely admires in every way, will be, along with his wife and their kids and all of these other people who are important to Killian.

Emma wants to run. She knows that she does. Feelings overwhelm her, the feelings she has for Killian most of all, but she thinks she’d rather be overwhelmed by the happiness that he helps her feel rather than the anxiety.

The new phase of a relationship is fun but also terrifying.

“Are you inviting me over for a sleepover?” she finally asks, hoping that Killian can’t tell that she’s freaking out a little bit.

Killian hums into her neck, and she finally opens her eyes, the brightness of the sun shining through the curtains blurring everything for a moment. “I am. I can get you all kinds of snacks. We’ll wear our best pajamas, watch movies, play truth or dare, maybe have a pillow fight or two.”

“Do you get all of your sleepover knowledge from 2000s rom coms?”

“Possibly.”

Emma chuckles before turning on the mattress, shifting into Killian’s space like he shifted into hers, and when she’s turned in his arms, she blinks at him, taking in the unshaven scruff and unruly hair that most definitely hasn’t been tamed. She likes that too. His hair is always doing different things, and she can’t decide what she likes best.

“You very obviously did,” Emma sighs, running her hands over the muscled curves of his biceps, “but that’s okay. That’s where all of my knowledge came from too. The closest I’ve ever gotten to one that’s not, like, a sexual thing is when Ruby and I room together on road games.”

“I don’t think that counts because then Robin, Will, and I have had a ton of sleepovers, and none of them involve any of the fun things I was talking about before.” He reaches up to cover her hand with his before leaning in and lazily moving his lips against hers. There are a lot of things she’s learning at twenty-seven, and one of them is most definitely how much she likes lazy morning make out sessions. They’re definitely one of the seven wonders of the world. “And who said there was going to be nothing sexual about our sleepover? I was definitely planning at least a little something.”

Her nose scrunches up, and Killian moves to gently bite it, making her laugh. “We can have something sexual happen, but only if it’s during truth or dare. No funny business otherwise, mister.”

His lips part like he’s going to say something, and she runs her hand up and down his arm as she waits. But then he blinks one long, slow blink and shuts his mouth, whatever words he was going to say curling back on his tongue.

“What?” she questions, moving her leg against his.

“Nothing,” Killian smiles, pressing forward to run his lips over hers again, making her toes curl from the way that he knows just what to do in a kiss to make her happy. “I was simply thinking of this sleepover we’re going to have, and how I need to buy some better pajamas for it. I can’t have you seeing me in anything less than decent.”

“You’re not wearing any clothes right now.”

“And I’ve yet to hear a complaint from you about that, so I think this may be decent attire.”

“Well then,” she sighs, slowly running her foot up his calf again and watching his eyes darken, “I think it’ll be perfectly fine attire then too.”

-/-

This is stupid.

This is so, so stupid. She can’t believe she’s doing this. It’s ridiculous. The most ridiculous thing in the entire world. Okay, maybe not in the entire world, but she’s feeling extra dramatic right now.

The most dramatic, and that’s not an exaggeration.

Killian told her to meet him in the hallway where all of the suites in the stadium are located, and she’s been standing her for fifteen minutes pretending to look at her phone instead of actually looking at her phone and answering emails or something. Or checking stats for the game. She should be doing that, but they’re still in the top of the first inning, and she’s pretty sure this is going to be the game that never ends.

Ever.

And she’ll be stuck in this hallway in London for the rest of her life and die in the yellow maxi dress that she spent thirty minutes picking out because she had no idea what to wear to her secret boyfriend’s niece’s tea party birthday. She’d also debated on going out and getting a gift despite their conversation last night, but then she’d reminded herself that she’s not technically planning on coming to this thing. It’s some kind of fake spur of the moment thing, and bringing a gift would ruin that.

She needs to calm down.

This is fine.

A set of doors to her left open, and she sees Killian walk through. She’s so used to seeing him dressed in his uniform or sweatpants and some kind of team-branded t-shirt when they’re in a baseball stadium that it throws her off when she sees him in tight-fighting blue jeans with a light blue button down tucked in, the sleeves rolled up and several buttons at the top undone so that she can see little tufts of black hair and the silver chain that he wears to keep his mom’s ring next to his heart.

Athletes have all kinds of traditions and superstitions for every part of their life, but her favorite is that Killian keeps that ring on him at all times.

“Hello, kind acquaintance,” he teases when he sees her, eyes darting around the hallway while he steps closer, “funny running into you here looking absolutely gorgeous in that dress. I’d say it’s perfect for a tea party.”

“You are ridiculous.” “You have got to stop saying that about me like it’s new information.” Killian steps up to her then, looking around once more before quickly dipping his head to kiss her while grabbing her ass like they didn’t just see each other two hours ago when she finally left his room. “You do look just beautiful, though. Sometimes I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

Heat immediately rises to her cheeks, but she tries to shake it and the butterflies in her stomach off. “I ask myself the same thing about you all the time.”

Killian rolls his eyes at her before holding his arm out. “You ready to go?”

Her eyes glance down at his elbow before looking back up at him. “Why are you holding your arm like that?”

“Because it’s proper to escort a lady to an event by giving her your arm when you walk, and I like to do proper by such a lady.”

“Killian,” she protests even as her heart absolutely hammers in his chest, “we can’t do that. There are people.”

“There’s no one. Indulge me for sixty seconds, okay?”

Maybe it’s that she’s feeling overwhelmed and like taking a risk or maybe it’s the way that he smiles, but something about him has her taking his arm and placing her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walk down the hallway until they’re at the double doors of the suite.

“It’s going to be fine, Swan,” Killian promises, squeezing her hand before letting go and pushing the door open so that the sounds of children excitedly talking fill their ears and her eyes take in all of the people in the room.

It’s not many, less than are usually in a big suite, but she can see at least fifteen kids, most of them children of players, and maybe ten other adults. That doesn’t seem like the right ratio, but these kids are old enough to be semi self-sufficient about most things. Everything is fine. She’s just nervous, which only gets worse when Killian’s niece spots them.

“Uncle Killian,” Addison screeches, stopping where she is and running toward the two of them in her blue dress. Killian immediately crouches down to her level, opening his arms to her and taking her into the tightest embrace before lifting her off of the ground while Addison nuzzles into his shoulder.

It may very well be the cutest and most heart-warming thing she has ever seen in her entire life.

“Happy birthday, my little love,” he sighs, swaying her as they stand. “How are you six years old? I’m pretty sure you’re still supposed to be a baby.”

“I’m too big to be a baby. Don’t be silly.”

“Don’t be silly?” he guffaws, pulling back and adjusting his grip on Addison. “Darling, I am always silly, but so are you. You’re basically the silliest goose.”

Addison scrunches up her nose, and Emma can see Killian in her there. It might be the dimples or the blue of her eyes, but Emma can see something even though both of Killian’s nieces look exactly like their mom. She is not weird at all for noticing these things. “We have talked about this. I am not a silly goose. I am a girl.”

“Geese can be girls.”

“Did you bring me a present?”

“A present?” Killian gasps, tickling Addison’s sides so that she giggles. “Am I supposed to bring you a present? No one told me.”

“But it’s my birthday,” she pouts.

“Did you bring me a present on my birthday? I don’t remember.”

“Yes,” Addison groans, holding her head back. “I drew you a picture of us.”

“Oh, that’s right, that’s right,” Killian sighs, glancing to the side and winking at Emma, which definitely doesn’t do something weird to her heart. “You did. I have it framed on my bookshelf because I love it so much. I do have a present for you, but your mom and dad told me that I had to leave it at home so you can’t open it until you get back to America.”

“What is it?” she gasps, not at all deterred by the fact that she can’t open her present yet.

“Addy,” a male voice sighs, and Emma turns her head to the side to see Killian’s brother standing near them, and that definitely does something to her heart, “remember what we talked about? You have to be patient.”

“But I’m excited!” Killian puts her on the ground so that she’s no longer at eye-level with all of them, but her confidence might as well make her six feet tall. “Where’s Lucy? I don’t see her.”

“She’s sitting with Mommy. Why don’t you go find them while I talk to Killian and Ms. Emma here?”

That’s when Addison’s attention turns to her, and suddenly she feels like more eyes are on her than when she’s on television.

Is she terrified of a six-year-old? No, that would be ridiculous.

(Also, Killian’s brother knows her name, and while that’s not weird, she feels like it is. Then again, she knows his entire family.)

“Who are you?” she questions, her hands on her hips and eyes focused.

Emma plasters a smile on her face, one that was already there even if she didn’t realize it, before squatting down so that she’s eye-to-eye with Addison.

“Hi, Addison. My name is Emma. I work with your uncle.”

“Are you a baseball player?”

“No,” Emma laughs, and she looks up at Killian when she hears him chuckle. He simply shrugs his shoulders and waggles his brows across his forehead. “I wish I was, but I work on TV. You know those people who ask Killian all kinds of questions?”

“That’s you?”

“That’s me.”

Addison smiles, the teeth she has missing obvious, before she steps a little closer to Emma and touches her dress, running her fingers over the material. “I like your dress. It kind of looks like a princess dress. Are you going to stay for my party?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I do. Do you want to come and look at my cake with me? It’s shaped like a unicorn.”

“Sure, sweetie,” she answers, smiling at Addison and taking her hand as she’s dragged off to the other side of the room, leaving Killian and Liam behind.

For the next hour, her best friend in the world is Addy Jones, who very much takes Emma under her wings as she shows her around the suite and introduces her to all of her friends. The only real experience Emma has with kids is Leo, and the four-year difference between six and ten is kind of insane, but it’s not hard to adjust and talk about all of the right things. It gets a little more difficult when she meets Lucy, if only because Lucy is one reserved little girl, but Emma notices that she very easily follows in Addy’s footsteps and has her own little personality, even if it’s quieter.

Lucy Jones also very much loves her uncle, and it makes Emma’s heart do that funny stuttering thing every time she looks up and sees Lucy sitting with Killian as he animatedly talks to her and makes her laugh with this little high-pitched squeal. She’s always known how much Killian loves his nieces from how he talks about them and how he has pictures of them in his apartment and on his social media, but seeing it in person is this whole new thing. He’s in his element, even more than he is when he’s on a baseball field like the one just outside, and this smile that’s been with her most of today continues to increase, the corners of her lips constantly ticking up whenever she thinks about him.

Which is a lot.

Probably more than a normal amount, and she just loves him so damn much that…

Holy shit.

She loves him.

She loves him.

Why is she realizing that right now as she sits at a table with people she doesn’t really even know while she watches him very obviously stick his pinky out while drinking tea teaching Lucy to do the same?

How in the world did this happen?

And is she terrified or so incredibly excited that it feels a lot like the fear that’s been weaving in and out of her days lately?

Does he love her too? Can he? She thinks that he can, that he does, but how is she ever supposed to know for sure? It’s been a good while since she actually felt this way, and she’s not sure that she trusts her heart to realize the difference.

“It’s Emma, right?”

Emma looks up from her seat to see Elsa Jones standing above her, blonde hair pulled back into a complicated braid and soft smile painted across her lips.

“Yeah, yes, that’s me,” Emma stutters, holding out her hand to shake Elsa’s. “Elsa?”

“The one and only. Well, kind of,” she laughs before pulling out the empty chair next to Emma and sitting down. “It’s so nice to meet you. I feel like I know you from your job.”

“Funny, I feel like I know you.”

Okay, so that’s probably pretty creepy. Was that creepy?

Before Emma can think about it too much, Elsa laughs, something that sounds genuine, and Emma has to remind herself that this is just another person who she knows is kind. There’s nothing to be afraid of. She talks to people for a living.

“I would bet. Killian talks far too much, so you get a lot of information out of him when you’re likely just looking to talk about the game. I really liked the special you did at the beginning of the season. It felt very much like him as a person, which I’m always so happy to see.”

“He’s a great subject. It’s not easy getting a lot of these guys to be charming and funny about things other than baseball, so I love when I find one that knows how to open up. And he’s so good with your daughters. I hope I’m not intruding on your day, but Killian – ”

“Found you wandering the halls and dragged you along?” Emma arches her brow, but Elsa simply waves her away, shaking her head from side to side as she glances out the windows to the game that Emma is only half paying attention to even though it’s her job. “Liam told me. You’re not intruding at all. Addy has gone on and on about her pretty new friend Emma, and any friend of my girl is a friend of mine. Plus, we Joneses owe you about a million apologizes for my dumbass brother-in-law asking you out.”

She has to cover her mouth with her hand as she laughs, a snort escaping her before she can stop it. “Did you guys give him hell for that? I feel like he does deserve it.”

“Oh, most definitely. Killian is not a super spontaneous guy, especially when it comes to women, not anymore at least, so I’m not entirely convinced someone didn’t spike his water bottle. I actually choked on my own water bottle when I saw it happening, so I gave him hell for that too.”

“Good, but I’ve forgiven him as long as he never does something like that again. Our working relationship is much better now because he can basically never say no when I want an interview.”

“True,” she says, her smile somehow brighter. “You’ve got to use those kinds of things in your favor. I do it with Liam all the time. It works like a charm.”

“What does?” Liam asks as he steps up to them.

“Hi, sweetie,” Elsa greets him, tilting her head back so that Liam can kiss her. “Have you met Emma?”

“I did when she came in, but I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to her before Addy dragged her away. So, it’s nice to meet you, Emma.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well. I was telling Elsa that it’s good to put real faces to names I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard a lot about us?”

“Oh, y-yeah,” she mumbles, internally cursing herself again. “Work and all. I know far too much about the lives of all of the players, which is both a good and bad thing.”

“I would bet. Do you know about – ”

“Yesterday?” she asks. Liam nods his head, his smile tightened. “Yeah, I know. It was shitty, but it happens. And I’m glad Will and Killian and some of the other guys stood up for me like that, even if Killian was an idiot for messing up his hand. But I feel like I’m part of the team sometimes, and it’s nice to know they have my back.”

“Emma,” Addy squeals as she runs toward the three of them, completely ignoring her parents, “Killian said to come and get you to ask if you wanted to join our tea party. He says that you don’t know how to drink tea, and I have to help you.”

Her eyes immediately glance over to Killian, and when he moves his brow across his forehead, laughter bubbles inside of her stomach and her mouth falls into a soft smile. The ridiculous fool.

“You know what, Addy,” she sighs, “I don’t think I know how to drink tea. You and Lucy will have to teach me, okay?”

“I know. Come on.” Addison tugs at her arm until she rises from her chair, excusing herself to Liam and Elsa before she’s dragged across the room and over to the table where all of Addison’s friends and Killian are eat snacks and drinking tea, which looks a lot more like orange juice, and Emma is told to sit down in the chair next to Killian who is holding Lucy’s goldfish snacks while she inspects all of them. “Uncle Killian, I brought Emma over. Emma, do you want orange tea or apple tea?”

“Um, orange tea.”

Addy nods her head before she’s running off to the other side of the table and leaving Emma with Killian and Lucy.

“So, you need to teach me how to drink tea then?”

He shrugs his shoulders as he attempts to flip the hair that’s fallen over his forehead back. “My brother and sister-in-law had cornered you, and I thought you might need a little saving. I knew that you were a little nervous about meeting them.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You talk in your sleep.”

“I do not, you as – jerk,’” she corrects, stopping herself when Lucy looks up at her. “Hi, sweetheart. I like your dress.”

“Thank you,” she says quietly, sweetly. “It’s yellow. Yours is yellow.”

“I know. We’re basically twins. Are you going to eat your goldfish?”

Lucy softly smiles, little blonde curls falling in her face, before picking up a handful of her snacks from Killian and offering them over to Emma in a sweet gesture that definitely rivals everything romantic that her uncle has ever done.

“Thank you, Lucy.” Emma pops one into her mouth only to look up at Killian and see that his eyes are crinkled, those little lines showing up, and her stomach pleasantly twists at the sight of it. She realized that she loved him less than twenty minutes ago, and there are still a lot of crazy feelings processing in her brain right now. A lot. “Do you want some, twenty-nine?”

Killian blinks, almost like he doesn’t recognize her nickname for him, before reaching over and taking some of the fish that she’s offering him. It’s cheesy and very romance novel-ish, but she swears that she feels sparks when his fingers brush over the palm of her hands.

“Thank you, love.”

“I have your orange team, Emma,” Addy shouts as she comes back to them, balancing a far too full plastic cup of orange juice that spills a little on the carpet until Emma takes it from Addy’s hand.

“Well, thank you, Addy. But it’s your birthday. Shouldn’t I be helping you do something instead of you handing me my tea?”

Addy hums at this, her forefinger tapping against her chin while her foot taps on the ground. “You can help me open my presents later, okay?”

“That sounds like a deal.”

-/-

“Working hard or hardly working?”

Emma pulls the headphones from her ears so that she can hear Killian better, even though she could most definitely hear the cheesy phrase that just came out of his mouth. His family is flying back on the team plane, as are all of the other players’ families, and since she is Addison Jones’s new favorite person as of seven hours ago, she was asked to sit with all of the Jones clan, which has really just been her sitting in a seat by the window with Addy and Lucy switching seats until the both of them were corralled by their parents to go to sleep. And now she’s got Killian sitting next to her, which is what she was hoping for but isn’t the most subtle thing in the world.

They are not subtle people even when they probably think they are.

She’d never make it in federal law enforcement or something like that.

“My deadline is in an hour, and I had to pay twenty-seven dollars for WiFi so that I could send it in.”

“So, working hard?”

“Yep.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no,” she protests, reaching down to take another sip of her coffee. Her jet-lag is going to be even worse of a bitch tomorrow. “You can stay. I just have to check my stat facts, and then I’ll be finished. It’s kind of hard to work when everyone else is asleep and it’s so dark in here, so, you know, I’m drinking all of the caffeine to stay awake. I think I have a food baby made of unicorn cake.”

“Aye, me too,” he laughs as he pats his stomach. “That was too much sugar.”

“No such thing.”

“Oh, but there is, darling.” His hand brushes over her forearm, and she can see the slight scabs and marks from him punching Arthur yesterday. Nothing new has been said, no suspensions mentioned, and she hopes that it stays that way. She also hopes that nothing like that ever happens again.

“How does your hand feel?”

“A little sore, but I’m right as rain. It’s a good thing I have several days off, yeah?”

Emma groans, shutting her eyes just at the thought of getting up to work tomorrow like most people on this plane except for Killian and Robin. “Don’t remind me. I’m going to look like a zombie tomorrow, and feel even worse than that. If I ever go overseas again, it’s going to be for long enough to adjust to the time.”

“You and me both,” he yawns, and she’s totally endeared by the way his face contorts there only for him to smile at her with a tired, boyish grin that she’s endeared by even more. “Finish up your article, my love, and then I say that you at least try to go to sleep.”

“Always looking out for me.”

“You know it.”

Her hand reaches over his scarred one so that she can squeeze it, which is all she can really do right now. But honestly, being right here next to him simply sitting together after all of the craziness of these few days – baseball, meeting her boyfriend’s family, asshole players getting punched, quick tours of London that went by in a blur, and realizing that she loves Killian – is more than enough when it’s already absolutely everything.

[timeagainreviews]

Vengence on Gallifrey

Welcome back, friends. We’re meeting up sooner than we usually do! I could get used to the idea of a new episode every Wednesday and Sunday. Wouldn’t that be swanky? In the time since part one of "Spyfall," there has been a lot of speculation and theories about what would be in store for part two. How many of your fan predictions came true? I know a couple of mine did. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Before part two aired, I revisited part one. I was curious to review O’s storyline in light of the big reveal. Would I notice any nods or giveaways to his being the Master a second time around? The answer is basically, no. Other than the Master’s reaction of "ridiculous," to the inside of the TARDIS, there’s not much telegraphing to be had. I did, however, notice some things that seem head-slappingly stupid upon a second viewing.

My pal Steve compared the episode to "Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker," in that it moves so fast that you don’t have enough time to realise how stupid it actually is. One of those things I noticed the second time around was the big glass box in the middle of O’s home. My mind had kind of glazed over by that point that I never questioned how stupid it was that he would have a spring-loaded glass box in his ceiling. Now, I’m only human, but the Doctor isn’t. Why didn’t that seem weird to her that he would have a trap hanging from the ceiling? It made me think of Troll 2 when the dad walks over and grabs a fire extinguisher conveniently propped against the house. Why was it there? Because the plot demanded it.

Despite this, there is one thing I feel deserves saying. As much as I liked "Kerblam!" "The Witchfinders," or "It Takes You Away," I haven’t watched any of them since they first aired. I haven’t watched any of season 11 since my initial viewing. Regardless of any plotholes I found, I wanted to rewatch Spyfall. And I think that goes to show that despite various failings on Chris Chibnall’s behalf, he’s got me watching the show again! What then is different?

My first response would be that the stakes are higher this time around. A lot of that has to do with the fact that the Master is back. Regardless of how overused he may or may not be in the new series, their relationship has gravity. As an agent of chaos, the Master ups the tension as we have a history with him. Like with the Dalek in "Resolution," he lends a familiar element that this new era deeply needed. In these past few days, I was truly worried about how our friends were going to get out of this mess. I haven’t felt that way about Doctor Who in a long time.

When we last saw our heroes, the Doctor had been transported to the brain realm and the companions were about to crash on a plane. Through a bit of time travel, the Doctor saves the day via phone app, thus continuing the trend of the Doctor messing with Ryan’s phone. At least the dude got to keep his data this time. I found the whole sequence with the Doctor making plaques and laminating belaboured the point a bit, but it was cute.

We learn that the Doctor is walking around in some sort of synaptic realm. She meets Ada Lovelace who seems to think it's her own mind, but that was her best guess. I would complain that it was a weird design if it was a mind, but then I remember "The Invisible Enemy," and realise how much worse it could have looked! According to Ada, she’s been visiting this place since she was a wee bairn. She seems rather cool about the whole thing but is perplexed to see the Doctor.

The two flash into Ada’s timeline of 1834, where the Doctor has found herself at a steampunk convention. I found some of the steam-powered devices like the grenade to be a bit moronic. It was so unbelievable that my initial reaction was that she was in some sort of alternate history. But no, it’s just goofy. The Master discovers the Doctor survived and goes to finish the job. Before the episode, I was thinking "I hope they show the inside of his TARDIS." Turns out they already had. I guess it’s the same size on the inside. I had kind of expected it to be like Clara and Me’s TARDIS in that the diner was just part of the facade with the real bit hidden away. But no, his console is right there in the main room. Weird. Also, remember when chameleon circuits used to make TARDISes look inconspicuous? The biggest thing we ever saw it do was when the Master’s TARDIS became a truck. The coolest camouflage still goes to my man Professor Chronotis’ TARDIS in Shada. It was just a door along a wall. How cool is that? Not complaining, merely lamenting the loss of simplicity.

From within the Master’s TARDIS we see Barton confront the Master. The conversation between these two really only serves to show Barton as alive, and establish the power structure which is that the Master is in charge, which we already knew. It also establishes the existence of a sculpture that looks like something a third-year art student might have half-assed while hungover. Barton goes to intercept the companions, while the Master takes care of the Doctor. He makes a grand entrance with his tissue compression device doling out murder without reason. Did anyone else wonder why the device seemed not only to shrink people but also to turn them stiff like plastic or wood? I suppose compacting material like that could increase rigidity, but it was an odd choice.

To get the Master to stop killing people, the Doctor placates his ego by getting on her knees and calling him Master. It was, for lack of a better word- hot. Ada shoots the Master with a steam-powered gun and they get away. This was more of Chibnall’s weird relationship with guns. The Doctor says to Ada that she doesn’t approve, but the second Ada uses a grenade the Doctor is like "Hell yeah, this is my bad bitch Ada! Represent!" It’s like in "The Ghost Monument," when she hated the use of guns against a group of emotionless robots and then used a bomb to take out the same group of emotionless robots. It’s almost as though it’s not the killing the Doctor hates, it’s the inefficiency of the whole thing. "Mate, use bombs, way more effective!" Okay, Chris.

In the last five minutes of part one, I wasn’t sure if Sacha Dhawan was going to be a good Master or not. I was worried he was going to be too flamboyant, but the second he hits the screen in part two, it’s as though he had always been in the role. I really love him and Jodie Whittaker’s chemistry. It’s great to see her Doctor faced with someone truly evil, and I feel as though it’s given her a lot to work with. Watching the two of them verbally spar is nothing short of delightful.

Barton comes up empty-handed in his search for the companions, which is no sweat off his back as he is Mr Tech Empire. After a little bit of finagling with the internet, their faces are soon posted everywhere as wanted criminals. Exactly like in "The Sound of Drums," they’re going to have to go off the grid. They even take refuge in a construction site! Doing so gives them a bit of downtime to talk and regroup. In a moment of clarity, it dons on them that they don’t really know the Doctor all that well. They decide that after all is said and done, they’re going to have a talk with the Doctor. Like many people, I was hoping that they would visit this concept, as series eleven made them seem a little too keen. It was a welcome bit of character development.

Another thing I love about this scene is that Graham isn’t annoying in it. "But Natalie," you say, "I thought you loved Graham!" And you would be right, I do love Graham. But I feel like it’s worth pointing out that they didn’t ruin him. Usually with a lot of shows and movies, if something is good or popular with fans, the tendency is to overdo it. This is the same lovable dude from the previous series and I feel that should be acknowledged. One of the things I really admire about Chris Chibnall is that he really seems to know his own character’s voices. One of my biggest issues with Clara Oswald is that her personality was all over the board. We don’t get that here.

Having travelled with the Doctor for a while now, the companions decide to carry on like she would have them do. They still have their spy gear and like exploding cufflinks and Graham’s laser shoes, and their timing couldn’t have been more perfect as the baddies from part one show up. Sadly, they’re not the Voord as me and many others had hoped. They’re a species known as the Kasaavin. It’s a name that’s about as inspired as Ranskoor Av Kolos, and that is not a compliment. It’s simply a very forgettable name. I dunno what it is, but I really hate the way Chris Chibnall names stuff. He’s willing to do groan-inducing puns like "Arachnids in the UK," or "Dinosaurs on a Spaceship," but then decides to reign it in with "Resolution," despite the naming convention established in previous Dalek stories like "Revelation of the Daleks," or "Remembrance of the Daleks." Though I suppose in his defence, "Resolution," is about a singular Dalek. Either way, Graham’s laser shoes save the day. It’s ridiculous, but unlike the Master, it is a compliment when I say it.

The Doctor has now regrouped with Ada Lovelace and Charles Babbage. After a bit of fangirling on her part, she goes into Doctor brain mode. She pieces together that the multiple maps of the earth are, like I had guessed, different points in time. The aliens are spying on important people throughout time, for some reason that still makes zero sense to me. Why would they care about the Earth’s technology? Wouldn’t their computers completely best our technology? What threat could humans pose to them? I thought their sights were set on taking over the universe, but now it appears their sites are set on one planet’s technology. I guess you’ve got to start somewhere.

The Doctor surmises that the Kasaavin must have difficulty keeping their form in our universe, thus a need for a machine that keeps them stable. This, of course, is the bad art student sculpture we saw in the Master’s TARDIS which has now found its way into Charles Babbage’s study. This must have been too close to the truth as at this moment a Kasaavin shows up. The Doctor uses this as an opportunity to hitch a ride off of the Kasaavin’s energy surge in hopes to end up back in the present day. As she does, Ada grabs her hand and is transported as well. Instead of 2020, they end up in the year 1943 during a Nazi blitz on Paris. Literally, the first person they encounter is another historical figure- Noor Inayat Khan. That’s gotta be some kind of record for the show- three historical figures in one episode.

After establishing that they aren’t Nazis, the Doctor and Ada hide in the safety of Noor’s home. However, it is then that the Master shows up in full Nazi regalia and orders a team of Nazi soldiers to fire into the floor and leaves. I, like many of you, was immediately confused. The Nazis weren’t known to ally themselves with people of the Master’s current complexion. However, we learn that by using a series of perception filters, the Master has disguised himself as white, which makes sense in relation to the show. We discover the Doctor and Ada narrowly averted death as they were, in fact, hiding in the floor.

On the other end of things, Graham, Ryan, and Yaz use being under surveillance to draw Barton’s people into a trap. Using Graham’s laser shoes, they steal a vehicle and head to stop Barton. Speaking of Barton, we’re treated to a deliciously dark scene between him and his mother. It was pretty obvious that the woman strapped to a chair in his bad guy lair had to be his mother, but that didn’t make it any less funny.  This guy is such a piece of work that not even his mother likes him. He tells her that she is to be the first person to be subjected to his grand scheme. After being taken over by blue electricity, she appears to die. What a dick.

Back in Paris, the Doctor realises Noor is a British spy. Using her telegraph, the Doctor baits the Master by tapping out four beats- the heartbeat of a Time Lord. Unable to resist, the Master taps four beats in response to the Doctor. What happened next was one of the coolest things I’ve seen on Doctor Who in a while. The Doctor and the Master make contact telepathically, something of which hasn’t been seen in the show for years. I quite literally threw my hands up into the air with joy. Kudos to Chris Chibnall for giving me the nerd feels.

The Doctor and the Master meet up atop the Eifel Tower where they have a rather intimate conversation. We find out it was the Master who killed C in the previous episode. So yes, they did waste Stephen Fry, which officially makes me a disappoint. The Doctor deduces that the Master isn’t actually in control of the Kasaavin. Instead, the Master has merely allied himself with them, claiming to have given them a broader scope of vision. I’m not exactly sure how going from wanting to take over the universe to taking over a small planet is a broadening in scope, but stop asking questions and watch the show.

Now, remember how I just gave kudos to Chris Chibnall? Well, I am going to have to take those back. In an attempt to delay the Master, the Doctor gives him away to the Nazis. She makes them think he is a British spy and directs them to their location. However, not only does she do this, but she also disables his perception filters. So effectively, the Doctor, a white woman, gives up a brown man to the Nazis. It wasn’t enough to make them think he’s a spy, they had to also see that he had brown skin. I was honestly a bit disgusted by this. How would they even recognise him as the same guy they were told was a spy? They’re going to arrive and find a person of colour in a Nazi uniform and not know who he was. Jesus Christ, Chibnall.

The Doctor uses the Master’s TARDIS to get back to the present time, just in time to find Barton unrolling his big plan. He goes on a long speech about how we give all of our information to corporations and how we should watch who we allow to pry into our privacy. It’s the social media equivalent of "Don’t blink." It’s a very effective bit of writing on par with one of Steven Moffat’s better speeches. It’s a shame it was preceded by the Doctor selling the Master out to Nazis.

So what’s the big plan? Well, remember the spy woman in part one whose DNA had been rewritten? And remember how Barton was only 93% human? It turns out that the Kasaavin plan to rewrite the DNA of the human race and turn us into hard drives by storing information within our DNA. They do so by using our smartphones and tablets against us. In the same arc of blue electricity as Mother Barton, people all over the world begin to be assimilated. During this entire press conference scene, I’m not sure if any of the actors in the audience were given proper direction as they have the most benign faces throughout most of this. Barton, whose speech went from zero to megalomaniacal in the first few seconds, should have sent up red flags across the room, but instead, they were as serene as cows. It was bizarre.

That was it, that was the big plan. Turn people into hard drives. I think? I had to ask a few of my friends what they thought it was supposed to be because I was worried I had missed something. Were they trying to take over the bodies of humans so they could have corporeal form? If so, then why say they wanted to store data in our DNA? Why do they need so much data storage anyway? Have they got a huge stash of hentai in their universe? Were they torrenting all of Doctor Who? Seriously, I do not understand their motivation or their methods. But honestly, I hardly care, because the real star of the show is the Master.

Having waited 77 years, the Master shows up just in time to be kind of late to the show. Like, he didn’t even buy a gun in that time. I do however look forward to the Big Finish audios pertaining to that era of his life. However, in the meantime, the Doctor took it upon herself to put a bug in the Kasaavin’s system which negates their mission and reverses the conversion. She informs the Kasaavin that the Master had planned to double-cross them. As they depart from our universe, they take the Master with them, but not before he mentions to the Doctor that Gallifrey was destroyed.

After getting Ada and Noor to their respective timelines, the Doctor goes to see Gallifrey for herself. Sure enough, the once-great Time Lord society has been raised to the ground. It’s a powerful bit of acting on Jodie Whittaker’s behalf. Devastated, the Doctor returns to the TARDIS only to be greeted by a hologram of the Master telling her it was him that did it, as a sort of act of punishment or vengeance. This is a much needed source of motivation for the Master’s current rage, considering how much of a departure it is from Missy’s redemption arc. Remember the timeless child storyline I’ve been dreading? Well, I’m genuinely surprised to be sitting here today to tell you that it has piqued my interest. Having something to do with the founders of Time Lord society, Rassilon and Omega, the implication is that their legend is based upon a lie, thus the Master’s final warning to the Doctor at the end of part one. 

So who is the timeless child? Well, I am relieved to say I don’t think it’s the Doctor. My wildest guess is that she was some sort of person that didn’t experience time like the rest of us and was killed to harness that power. Think Rusty Venture powering his dream machine with the heart of an orphan. Like I said, my wildest guess. The biggest takeaway from all of this is that I’m sitting here speculating about Doctor Who. With Moffat’s plotlines oftentimes leading nowhere interesting, I had grown wary of speculation. Why wonder what was next when it was most likely something disappointing? It’s nice to feel intrigued by Doctor Who again.

Upon returning to her fam, the Doctor is distant and quiet. The companions can tell something is up, but as they decided earlier, they needed to have a talk with the Doctor. The Doctor concedes and tells them the basics- she’s a Time Lord, she’s from Gallifrey, she can regenerate her body, the Master was her friend. This bit of truth on her behalf seems to please the trio as they don’t press the issue further. The Doctor throws the TARDIS into gear and we’re left lingering on her face for a moment before the episode ends.

Afterwards, my wife and boyfriend and I sat in silence. As the biggest Whovian in the house, I think they were waiting for my reaction. And in some ways, I think I was too. I really enjoyed the episode, I did. But I had my issues, which I’ve listed extensively above. My main qualms at that time were of structure. Much like the first episode, this one was clunky. The pacing was definitely better than last time, but still had issues. But otherwise, I needed to think about what I had just seen. I liked the anti-fascism angle, save for the Doctor selling out the Master to the Nazis. And there were a lot of great callbacks to classic Who. My wife had checked out at the DNA storage bit because she’s a giant nerd and was feeling nitpicky about the science in a science fiction show. But it was Duncan whose comments I think were the most on point. He told me that he, as a casual viewer, was lost throughout much of the episode. For him, a little bit of explanation peppered throughout the episode would have gone a long way.

One of the most persistent flaws in classic Doctor Who is that oftentimes they would explain what was happening within the final episode of a story, leaving you in the dark for the first few episodes. In the same way, Spyfall had left him feeling lost. I even said it recently that I am not the kind of fan Doctor Who needs to please. I will watch the show regardless of its quality. If someone as fanatical as myself was feeling confused, imagine how my boyfriend felt. It is, as he said, why people start tuning out. The show is on course to what may possibly be one of it’s best seasons in years. I’m hoping that the next few episodes give us a bit of breathing room before throwing us back into the deep end.

[stellalux-universe]

Without You

Summary: It was just a stupid fight, that's all it was. But when your passion runs as high as theirs does, sometimes that's all it takes to rip you apart. The real question is, are you brave enough to try again?

Hello!

This is my first Crüe fic and I was so excited to write it because I adore Tommy and Nikki together but then I started writing and what was supposed to be like 8,000 words max grew out of my control because it seems I'm incapable of writing anything short.

So what was the end result? Nearly 50 damn pages of angst and sadness and emotion. A little happy, fun stuff here and there too, but still!

In any case, a couple of things to know, this story is set in an au where hair metal is seeing it's heyday in the current year, so modern timeline and it is A/B/O because I have been dying to explore writing with omega!Tommy and alpha!Nikki. Hopefully I did it some justice. Also, the timeline skips back and forth between 2018 and 2019, all of the past is in italics just in case you miss the date change!

This is also posted on my AO3 under StellaLux if you would prefer to read it there! I just thought, “maybe some people are on tumblr but not AO3? What the hell, I’ll post it tumblr to get like 2 notes just for kicks!”

Enjoy!

~May 15th, 2019~

In retrospect, Tommy supposes that this entire situation was his own damn fault.

Not that he would ever say that out loud. Introspective contemplation of his past choices and mistakes have never really been his style. In his experience, such things only led to a tortured mind and put you into a depressive mood and that was definitely not his vibe. He couldn’t go back in time to change anything, so he may as well not worry about it anymore.

Even still, he has to admit that if he hadn’t been so bone dead tired a day ago after not only a photo shoot but also a reshoot on top of that because the fucking photographer hadn’t liked the fucking lighting, he probably wouldn’t be in this mess.

Because then, when Tom had called to beg him to attend this party for the band he had just signed, he would have had the wit to ask the most basic but important question, “Which band is it?”

But Zutaut had called him right after he had changed into his street clothes. Right after shooting from 5 in the fucking morning to 6 in the evening, when he was ready to go home, crawl into bed and not wake up for a full 24 hours. Tom was lucky he had even answered honestly. When his phone rang, Tommy had looked at it with nothing short of absolute disgust and had wanted so badly to just ignore him.

Tom Zutaut wasn’t a person that people had hard line opinions about. Despite having a cool job that usually got people’s attention, the newest producer at Elektra records was, to put it as nicely as possible, an absolute fucking bore. He was the epitome of a brown paper bag, plain and bland, the kind of person who was just… there. Tommy didn’t particularly like him, but he didn’t dislike him either.

Had Tom been anyone else, Tommy would have declined the call and continued unencumbered with his plan to get home as soon as possible to pass out. But it was Tom, and despite thinking the producer was probably the most yawn-inducing individual he had ever met, Tommy couldn’t ignore him and the reason was simple. Tommy owed Tom. He owed him a lot.

Tom had come into his life when Tommy was at his lowest; he had just broken up with the man that he was pretty sure was meant to be his mate, was forced to leave his new, fledgling band that he was in love with, and was living on a friend’s couch. Tom had seen him at a party one night and after talking for just a few minutes had gotten him a role as an extra in a music video. That cameo had caught the eye of an up and coming photographer and landed him his first photoshoot and that photoshoot had landed him a 5 year contract with a pretty big modeling company. It wasn’t necessarily what Tommy had envisioned for his life, but it paid the bills for a nice apartment, a nice car, and a fairly glamorous lifestyle so he couldn’t really complain.

And he couldn’t ignore Tom, who had put everything in motion for him.

~May 14th, 2019~

Tommy feels like crying when his phone rings. He’s so damn tired and he barely has enough in him to drive himself home, let alone entertain a conversation but the caller id says it’s Tom and despite not typically caring to follow the rules of social niceties, Tommy would feel bad about ignoring the other man who has helped him so much. So he picked up reluctantly and threw himself down into a chair in his stylist’s dressing room so he could at least sit through whatever banality that Zutaut had to throw at him.

“Hey Tom.”

“Tommy! You are exactly who I wanted to talk to!” Tom’s voice is higher than normal and overly happy. The tone is familiar to Tommy, it’s the tone the other man takes when he’s about to ask for a favor that he’s going to wheedle him into doing by throwing the fact that Tommy owes him in his face.

Tommy sighs, eyes drooping as he tapped the fingers of his right hand against his jean clad legs to a beat of a song in his head, “Yeah, I figured, you know, since it was me you called.”

Tom gives a nervous chuckle and when he speaks again, his words are stilted and hesitant like they always are when he tries to cash in his IOUs, “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Well, uhh, I kind of need a favor.”

“Uh huh.” Tommy responded, eyes falling shut against his will as he waited for Tom to continue.

“You see, I just signed this band, and it’s my first major signing and they’re going to be fucking awesome Tommy, like seriously, they’re going to be huge and they’re right up your alley. Like, for real Tommy, you would love them, they’re so cool-“

“Tom, please, for the love of god. I’m literally like a minute from fucking passing out here, please just tell me what you want.” Tommy interrupts as he gets up to start walking to his car. He’s not paying much attention anyway so he may as well multitask.

“Oh shit, yeah, you had a job today. Hope that went well, I saw that stuff you did for Gucci last season. I don’t know much about that stuff but you looked great-”

“TOM!” Tommy growls into the phone, startling some of the people in the hallway. Tommy waves an apologetic hand and flashes a smile and they laugh and shake their heads at him.

“Yeah, okay, so here’s the thing, we’re throwing them this signing party to celebrate and introduce them to other people at the company and I really need some cred with these guys Tommy, so they’ll respect me-”

“You got them a record deal Tom, that’s not enough for them to respect you?” He rolls his eyes as he pushes his way out of the back door, waving to the security guard and walking over to where he parked his car.

“These guys are crazy Tommy, the first time I sat down to talk to them, they had a woman underneath the table who tried to surprise blow me!”

Despite his exhaustion and the fact that he’s barely listening, Tommy snorts out a laugh at that because that’s fucking hilarious. Thinking about a straight laced guy like Zutaut in a situation like that… his reaction had probably been priceless. He gets exactly what Tom is getting at now. The type of wildness that comes with that kind of activity, those guys probably see Tom as a fucking doormat.

Which he is, but still.

“And what do you think I can do about this Tom?”

“Well, you see, I was thinking that if I show up at the party with a gorgeous omega model, maybe it will earn me a little bit of credibility.”

Tommy groans as he opens his car door and slides in. He could honestly probably afford a driver and right about now that sounded like heaven but there was something he absolutely adored about driving around LA and he didn’t want to give that up just to be boujee and lazy.

“So you want to use my looks and profession to make a good impression on some wild rock stars? I really don’t know how much of an impact I’ll have Tom.”

“Tommy. Seriously. Have you seen you? You’re literally one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen and I work with a ton of attractive people. You literally just did a campaign with Gucci last season. You’re the perfect blend of ridiculously sexy and cool that these guys will appreciate! If I walked into the party with you on my arm, it’d be a good start to getting them to listen to me a little bit more.”

Tom’s voice is plaintive, almost whiny and the flattery would be nice if the beta didn’t say it in such a matter of fact way. That was part of the problem with Zutaut, Tommy thought. There wasn’t an ounce of passion in the man. Everything was a calculation, everything had a purpose, and Tommy’s attractiveness was just something to be used. It made him a fairly shrewd businessman and definitely contributed to why he was able to make producer at such a young age, but it was also the reason for the current predicament he was in. With his wild rock star clients not giving two shits about what he said because he was such a damn square.

Tommy starts the engine and there’s a brief pause in their conversation as his phone pairs with his car’s system and then Tom’s voice comes back, “Please Tommy. Last favor, I swear. We’re even-steven after this.”

That was familiar, Tommy’s pretty sure Zutaut has said that the last four times he has asked for favors. Still, it was just a party and Tommy was still a sucker for parties. And honestly, if it ended this conversation so Tommy could focus on driving himself home to sleep, he’d agree to anything.

“Fine.”

“Awesome! Thanks Tommy, this is going to help me so much, you have no idea. Try to look your best okay? Like total knockout. The party is on-”

Tommy sighs in frustration for what has to be the billionth time that day and cuts the beta off as he continues to prattle on, “I’m hanging up on you now Zutaut. I need to focus on driving so I don’t fall asleep at the wheel and crash. Just text me the damn details.”

And with that, Tommy presses end.

Tom texts him as soon as he hangs up to tell him that he would pick him up at 7pm the next night and to remind him in a completely blatant way to “dress up”. Tommy guesses that’s Zutaut’s way of asking him to dress slutty to appeal to a bunch of rock stars and he immediately regrets agreeing to go at all. Tom is generally annoying to be around for any extended length of time and it grates on his nerves when people treat him like he’s only worth having around to ‘look good’. It comes with the territory when your job is built around your physical appearance, but that doesn’t mean that the people in Tommy’s life should treat him as such and he certainly didn’t tolerate it when they did.

He feels better after he wakes up the next day a little after 1pm. He hadn’t even bothered to change when he had gotten home, had just shed his pants and collapsed into his bed, so he feels a little gross while he walks out of his bedroom in yesterday’s shirt and underwear to head to the kitchen to make coffee and get some food.

He pauses in the living room when his eyes catch the drum kit shining in the afternoon sun. It’s tucked away in the corner between two large windows, unassuming and gleaming in a way that pulls at his heart and makes his fingers twitch.

He hasn’t played in a year.

It’s tortuous sometimes. Drums are ingrained into his very being, as much a part of him as the blood that rushes through his veins when he’s hitting out a beat. He misses it with a severity that’s intense and all-encompassing but the pain he feels when he looks at the kit now dampens his desire until he can’t summon the will to pick up his sticks again.

He can barely remember back to the time when all he felt when he looked at his drum kit was joy and pride. It’s there, back behind the pain and the heartache and the sadness. A memory of a room and three other guys, hard hitting vocals, a shredding guitar, his own limbs heavy with exhaustion but adrenaline lighting him up as he pounds a beat out hard. A memory of a bassist with pale green eyes who gives him a heart stopping smile when they come to a break.

It’s only been a year, but Tommy has shoved those memories down so far into his heart that the men in them feel like ghosts to him. He sometimes feels like a ghost himself. The Tommy Lee who so loved his drums, who was wild, and excitable and so, so in love with life was dead.

Now all that’s left is this stereotype of a tall, pretty omega model in Hollywood who can’t even think about pursuing his passions because of how much it hurts him to remember.

Tommy scoffs at himself and tears his eyes away from his drum set, walking into the kitchen and letting muscle memory guide him into making coffee and reheating leftovers from the day before as he thinks that this is exactly why he doesn’t focus on the past. It’s just too damn depressing.

~January 18th, 2018~

Tommy is nearly bouncing in his seat at the diner in excitement. He keeps throwing little glances at the man a few booths away to make sure it’s who he thinks it is, but Tommy’s pretty fucking confident that it is.

He looks at his friend’s amused face across from him and the girl laughs softly at what has to be the goofiest of hopeful expressions that is morphing his features.

They had just gotten out of the concert they had met up for, and Tommy was already a ball of energy because London was one of his favorite up and coming bands and the show had been sick but as soon as they had been seated after deciding to get some food, he had caught sight of a familiar face and then proceeded to steadily lose his shit.

“Seriously, that’s him right? That’s Nikki fucking Sixx sitting just a few booths away from me?” Tommy harshly whispers, as if the other man was paying any attention to anything other than the paper spread out in front of him and the tissue he kept pressing to his bloody nose.

His friend just grins at him, “Looks like it, yeah.”

Tommy fidgets and bites his lip, “Should I go over and talk to him?”

The girl across from him nods, small little wicked smirk on her face. She’s a good friend but she loves watching him make a fool of himself, which is no doubt exactly what she thinks he’s about to do now.

“Yeah, you should. I’m just gonna get a milkshake and get gone.”

Tommy is already sliding out of his seat as she speaks, giving her a thumbs up and a ‘see you later.’

He walks over as confidently as he can with his nerves flaring up. Tommy isn’t one to be shy or embarrassed by much, but he’s eighteen and the older bassist is probably one of the coolest musicians on the scene right now and that’s enough to make him jittery. It also doesn’t help that the man is probably the most gorgeous alpha that Tommy has ever actually seen in public. Dark hair, killer jaw line, intense pale green eyes and just as intense alpha aura, Tommy practically shivers the closer he gets. Tommy could hardly be called inexperienced, he’s been with a couple of alpha’s before but it’s always been with people his own age, fumbling around, figuring out how their biology even worked. But the vibe that Nikki gives off is nothing like the alpha’s Tommy has been with, and the omega in him is intensely attracted to that.

He stops right in front of the table the other man is sitting at, bounces on his heels a few times and decides to just go for it, “Hey, that was badass dude. The show, not the nose… but the nose was pretty badass too.”

Tommy almost blushes as Nikki looks up at him while he rambles. The other man doesn’t say anything for a second, just drags his eyes over Tommy a few times before he finally replies in a drawling voice, accent something that Tommy can’t really identify, “The singer’s an asshole.”

Tommy releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when he hears Nikki’s reply and feels a little more confident, “I know. I saw. Hey, fuck him though, he deserved it.”

Nikki gives him a nod and goes back to scanning the paper in front of him, he seems to have lost interest or something and Tommy bites his lip before blurting out, “I got your poster on my bedroom wall.”

The alpha looks up at him incredulously then, raising an eyebrow and letting a small, delicious smirk stretch across his lips when Tommy closes his eyes and groans at how that sounded. “I can’t believe I just said that. I mean, fuck, I didn’t mean it, you know, like that, I just meant-“

Nikki chuckles as he stumbles over his words and shakes his head, “Take the fucking poster down man, London’s dead.”

Tommy opens his mouth to reply when the waitress comes over and stops on the other side of Nikki’s table, “What can I get you boys?”

Tommy blinks and slides into the booth across from Nikki, giving the man a smile when he gets a confused look from the bassist. The alpha just gives a small smirk again before looking up at the older beta waitress with a charming smile, “Can I please get a Jack and coke Dottie?”

The waitress rolls her eyes but writes it down regardless and Tommy gets the feeling that maybe Nikki is a regular here and she’s used to the request. The woman looks at him then, “And for you honey?”

Tommy smiles brightly at the woman and is satisfied when her lips tug upwards in response, always happy to make others a little happier, “Blueberry pancakes, please.”

“Of course hun.” She says lightly as she walks away and when Tommy looks back at Nikki, the bassist is staring at him with this intense gleam in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Sitting across from him now, Tommy can make out his scent prominently, and it’s something that goes straight to his head. Nikki smells like the aftermath of a storm, when the trees and the soil are wet with rain water and everything is saturated in bold, rich color. Tommy wonders if Nikki can smell him too, he’s been told before that has a particularly pleasant scent, he wonders if that’s why the bassist is looking at him with more interest than he had before.

Tommy watches in rapt attention as Nikki leans forward and starts talking with more passion than previously, “My next band is going to be something no one’s ever fucking seen before.”

The alpha’s eyes drop back down to the paper in front of him. Tommy studies it more closely then and sees ads for musicians looking for bands. One in particular catches his eye, Mick Mars: loud, aggressive guitarist and without thinking he whips one of his drumsticks out from his belt and uses it to point at the ad, “That dude looks pretty cool.”

Nikki uses the pen he has to circle it and Tommy feels joy flood him when the older man takes his suggestion before Nikki leans back against the booth and regards him with a curious look, head tilted slightly to the side, “Do you carry those around with you everywhere?”

“Yep.” Tommy smiles, popping the p at the end of the word playfully and thrilling when Nikki chuckles at him.

The waitress is coming back then and she sits a coke and a small bottle of Jack in front of Nikki, “Here you go kid. Your pancakes will be out soon honey.”

Nikki thanks the older woman gratefully and proceeds to twist the top of the liquor bottle and instead of pouring it into the coke like Tommy had expected him to, proceeds to down the contents in one go, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s as the omega bites his lip and starts twirling his drumstick in his fingers. It’s a habit he had developed ever since he had taught himself how to do it, especially when he was nervous or stressed and the way Nikki was looking at him was making him both in the most electric way possible.

He sees Nikki eye the movement with a slightly impressed look on his face and it makes Tommy giddy to have caused it, “Where did you learn to do that?”

Tommy does blush at that but he’s honest when says, “High school marching band.”

Nikki full out laughs at that, not meanly, but in surprise, like he hadn’t expected Tommy to be that honest and it makes the omega grin when he adds, “But hey, I rock too.”

Nikki is leaning forward and smirks then and Tommy feels the warmth of arousal spread through him when the bassist lowers his voice and says, “I bet you do babe.”

A plate is sat in front of him and it makes Tommy blink in confusion as the moment between him and Nikki is interrupted, Dottie smiling at him gently for startling him. He looks back up and Nikki has gone back to looking through ads, but Tommy sees the little smile pulling at his lips and it makes him grin again, pushing the pancakes more toward the center of the table to get Nikki’s attention.

“Help me eat these pancakes and tell me more about this band.”

Nikki full out smiles at him then, and Tommy knows that he’s going to be gone for this man in no time flat.

It only takes six full days in fact.

Nikki had pretty much demanded he be his band’s drummer as soon as he found out that Tommy had drummed for Suite 19 before the band had dissolved.

“I saw you guys once. Shitty band but you have some real fucking talent babe.”

Tommy’s pretty sure he had fucking beamed with hearts in his eyes when he heard Nikki say that.

They spent the next couple days meeting up and talking about their vision for what was going to be their band. Nikki always said that, always called it “our band” and not “my band” and Tommy always felt pride move through him when he did. They spent their mornings and nights planning in Nikki’s shitty little efficiency that Tommy adored just like he adored when Nikki would pull him in close with an arm around his shoulders on the couch to look through lyrics. Tommy could see the way Nikki’s eyes would follow him as he walked through Nikki’s home, following his body when he would get up to grab them beer from the small refrigerator that was against the far wall from the couch. There was a hazy atmosphere that settled over them when they were together, it was palpable and charged and Tommy knew they could both feel it.

Their sixth day hanging out together they were sitting outside on the fire escape, taking a break between seeing guitarists and sharing Nikki’s last cigarette when a breeze blew past them. Tommy tilted his head back, enjoying the brisk air blowing his curls around his face but when he opened his eyes, he was immediately met with Nikki’s eyes squeezed closed and body tense.

Tommy put a hand on the bassist’s shoulder and squeezed at the muscle gently, “Hey, you okay Nik?”

Nikki breathed in a deep lungful of air and he smiled in what had to be the softest way Tommy had seen so far, “I’m good babe, you just…”

The alpha trailed off for a minute, the look on his face contemplating as Tommy prompted, “I just?”

Nikki shook his head with that smile, fingers coming up to brush Tommy’s hair out of his face, “You just smell really fucking good T.”

“Oh.” Tommy breaths out, heart jolting and beating fast at the admission. Before he could think to reply to that though, an absolutely shitty little hatchback was screeching to a halt in front of Nikki’s complex and a short beta with jet black hair was grumbling as he tried to get an amp out of the trunk.

Tommy and Nikki both snorted out a laugh but Tommy, being Tommy, was already running down the stairs to help the shorter man out, “Whoa, dude. You got it? Here for the audition?”

The older man levels a deadpan look at him that Tommy took to meant, ‘well no shit genius’, but he sticks with a simple, “Yep.”

Tommy helps him get the damn amp out of the trunk and the man looks at him with a scrutinizing glance, “You the singer?”

The omega laughs at that, “Absolutely not. That’s funny though, drummer.”

The beta gives him an odd look, “Pretty scrawny for a drummer.”

Tommy narrows his eyes in response. He feels Nikki moving in behind him but that doesn’t stop the annoyance from filling him. He doesn’t know this beta, he doesn’t know if he’s the type who means ‘It’s unusual for an omega to be a drummer’ when he said what he said but just for good measure he asks, “Do you have a fucking problem with that?”

Nikki is looking at him, Tommy sees him from the corner of his eyes but he doesn’t move his narrowed gaze away from the beta’s who looks satisfied at the challenge, “I meant scrawny, drummer, I didn’t mean omega. And I don’t have a fucking problem with either as long as you can fucking play good fucking music.”

Tommy’s whole demeanor changes at that, bright smile back on his face and he grabs one side of the amp and motions for the beta to do the same so they can carry it up the stairs, “Good, would have hated to give you a no before even seeing you play, old man.”

The beta growls at him at that, “Fucking teenager.”

Tommy just laughs, “I’m Tommy, the lazy fuck behind you carrying wires is Nikki.”

The short man gives the barest hint of a smile, like he doesn’t want to but just can’t help it. “Mick.”

Mick is in from the first riff of his guitar and as they play Tommy sneaks glances at Nikki just to see the nearly manic grin on the bassist’s face. Every so often their eyes will meet, and the passion Tommy finds in their locked gaze overwhelms him so much he has to look back down at his kit so he won’t blush. He’s pretty sure he still does. And he’s pretty sure that Nikki sees.

He thinks about Nikki that night while he’s at home. He’s probably going to have to move out soon. His parents don’t approve of him wanting to skip college to be in a band and as loving as they are, they aren’t going to let him live in their house unless they feel like he’s working towards something worthwhile.

But that’s not important right now. What’s important is that he’s pretty sure he’s in love with his bandmate. Tommy has a bad habit of falling too hard and too fast for people. He thinks maybe it’s a combination of his general enthusiasm for everything and his general love for people that makes him the way he is but this doesn’t feel like his usual falling in, falling out routine.

The thing between him and Nikki is magnetic. Tommy feels like he’s stuck in the bassist’s orbit, completely unable and unwilling to move too far away from him. There is just something inside of him that slots perfectly into place when he’s around Nikki and by the look in the alpha’s eyes when Tommy catches him staring, he’s pretty sure Nikki feels the same.

A few weeks of pining later he’s letting himself into Nikki’s efficiency, it’s about 11am so he knows that the bassist is probably still asleep but he hasn’t let that stop him the previous mornings and it’s not going to stop him today so he opens and shuts the door and takes off his shoes before flinging himself at the alpha who is spread across the mattress on the floor.

Nikki groans loudly and starts swatting at Tommy, because he knows it’s the younger boy, this routine becoming way too familiar but instead of laughing and rolling off of him like usual, Tommy just laughs and straddles his hips.

“Nikki, Nik, listen! I was up all night thinking about this,” Tommy starts, not even phased when Nikki tiredly tries to hit him for waking him up, “Listen Nikki! We’ve been looking for a singer and I thought about it and I think I know a guy. I actually went to high school with him, he’s absolutely perfect-”

Tommy yelps when Nikki tries to roll over and dislodge him from his perch so he can go back to sleep but Tommy is stubborn and he tightens his legs around the older man’s hips and whines out, “Nikki!”

The drummer feels Nikki go stiff as a board underneath him and when he meets his gaze, Tommy feels frozen, absolutely pinned by the intensity in the bassist’s green eyes.

“Nikki…” Tommy practically breaths, kind of scared by how silent and still the man underneath him is and that fear has him rambling pretty quickly, “Shit, I’m sorry Nik, I shouldn’t have woken you up, sorry if I annoyed you, I know you’re always telling me that you would rather I wake you up later in the afternoon and I never listen which must be irritating but I just- mmph!”

Tommy doesn’t even have time to process what is happening when Nikki suddenly surges to sit up, one hand firm on his hip to keep him stable on his lap and the other twisting in his hair to hold him still as the bassist presses their lips together in a sudden kiss.

It lasts seconds but when they part Tommy is panting like it had been hours and there’s a flush on Nikki’s cheeks when he sees the surprise in Tommy’s big brown eyes, “You, uh, you have this habit of licking your bottom lip when you nervous ramble you know? It’s really, really fucking cute.”

It’s Nikki’s turn to squirm a bit as Tommy sits there in his lap in shock and the alpha swallows before he starts talking again, “I know I probably shouldn’t have, you know, just fucking went for it without asking you for your permission or some shit like that first but fuck Tommy, I just feel, I feel so right around you. You’re so fucking beautiful, and passionate and talented and you’re not fucking annoying so don’t say that again and I just-”

It’s Tommy’s turn to interrupt him now, hands burying themselves in Nikki’s hair and pulling him forward to connect their lips again and Tommy moans when he feels Nikki’s arms wrap around his waist to pull him as close as possible, chest to chest as the bassist licks at his lower lip and dips it inside when Tommy opens his mouth. Tommy feels delirious and so fucking high that he whines in protest when Nikki breaks their kiss to breath.

Tommy laughs happily after he catches his breath, wrapping his arms around Nikki’s neck and throwing them down to lay back against the mattress, “What the fuck took you so long?!”

Nikki is laughing then too, rolling them over to hover on top of him and press kisses into every inch of Tommy’s face and neck and the omega giggles at the action but releases a sharp gasp when Nikki suddenly bites down underneath the scent gland just behind his ear.

“Sorry for making you wait babe,” Nikki’s speaks into his ear, lips brushing against the lobe and voice so low and gritty that Tommy feels a wave of heat spreading from his lower body, flush blooming along his cheeks, “Let me make it up to you.”

And he certainly proceeds to do that.

Life becomes a whirlwind for Tommy, they get his old high school friend Vince Neil to join their band and soon they’re Mötley Crüe. They spend their days writing music and preparing to take Sunset Strip by storm and they spend their nights partying and meeting people and raising hell. Tommy gets a job as a waiter at a strip bar just down the street which the rest of the boys love because it means they can drink for free during Tommy’s shifts and he, Nikki, and Vince pull their resources to get a small two bedroom apartment right on the Strip.

Tommy and Nikki are inseparable. They are so caught up in each other most of the time that they often can’t keep their hands to themselves and more than a few times Vince has to yell at them to take it to their bedroom so he doesn’t have to watch them fucking.

Nikki surprises Tommy every day with how thoughtful he can be, taking him on dates to the beach even though he hates it because he knows Tommy loves it, always picking a movie that he thinks Tommy will like even if it’s something Nikki probably wouldn’t otherwise be interested in, murmuring praises against Tommy’s skin in the early morning sun until he sits up to grab the book he keeps by the bed, arms wrapped around Tommy’s waist as the drummer sits in his lap as he writes out lyrics all about Tommy. Nikki will hum out a melody and Tommy will listen intently and fill in the spaces with a beat that he hits out on Nikki’s arms or legs, whatever is closest and the bassist will beam at him and nine times out of ten, tackle him against the bed. Nikki looks at him like he’s the most precious fucking thing in the world and when he’s with Nikki, he feels like he is.

They go into summer with a plan and a full list of songs to take over the world with. Tommy has his alpha, his lover, his absolute best friend by his side. He has his band, his chosen family, and his whole future ahead of him.

Of course, life can never be that fucking easy, can it?

~May 15th, 2019~

It’s a little after 6pm and Tommy has just gotten out of the shower, sipping from a bottle of Rosé as he stands in front of his open closet, music blasting from his speakers. Wine isn’t typically his drink of choice, but he hadn’t restocked his liquor cabinet and a few bottles had been left in his fridge from the last time he had friends over, so wine will have to do for now. If he was going to spend the rest of the night letting people assume that Tom fucking Zutaut was his date, he was at least going to get hammered. May as well start early.

Tom had asked him to dress nice, which Tommy translated in his head as “please dress slutty so my new rock star clients are envious of me for landing you as a date”.

Tommy grabs out his favorite black jeans. They’re torn to hell all up and down the legs and honestly show more of his skin than they cover up but they’re also super comfortable. He had thought about the soft leather pants right next to them but everyone was probably going to be in leather if this was a party to celebrate signing a new rock band and his stylist’s voice was sounding in his ear saying ‘dare to be different Tommy!’

With that catch phrase in mind, he pulls out some fishnet stockings too. He slides them on before pulling his jeans up carefully, mindful of the rips and tears and looks back at the mirror in the corner of his room. He lets a small smirk pulls at his lips as he takes in the band of his fishnets settling at the smallest dip of his waist and remaining visible for about three inches before disappearing below his jeans, making reappearances through the rips and tears along his legs. Yeah, that will do nicely. For the top he picks out a black worn tee. It’s cropped, so it shows the fishnet off and it’s just oversized enough that the neckline is constantly dipping down his left shoulder and it would be almost plain if it weren’t for the beautiful embroidered red roses that stretched along the entire right shoulder. He doesn’t even remember what brand it is but he loves it and it’s simple and chic enough when paired with the lower half of his outfit.

He thinks he’s dressed well enough to turn a few heads so he works on taming his hair into soft waves, briefly toying with the idea of teasing it before deciding that it was too much work for the likes of Zutaut and he prefers it loose and natural anyway. He does just enough make up to even out his complexion, give him those smoky, bedroom eyes that his photographers love so much and darkens his lips with a long lasting burgundy red.

As he finishes his makeup, he finds himself thinking that this is first time in a year that he’s done anything related to music or musicians in general. Tom is the only one even remotely tied to the music industry that he still speaks to and that’s only because of everything the other man has done for him. He ghosted everyone tied to his previous life when he walked out on him a year ago and he avoided the music scene like the plague ever since.

Nikki. Tommy does his best to not think about the green eyed bassist but no matter what Tommy does, the alpha inevitably pops back into his thoughts. It must be a combination of his earlier nostalgia with his drums, the fact that he’s about to go to a party for some up and coming rock stars and the wine, Tommy thinks as he takes a shaky breath. There was no other reason to think about his ex. Nikki was his past. Sure, he still loved the man like he doubts he would love anyone again, still longed for him during his one night stands with piss poor alphas who couldn’t hold a damn candle to the bassist, still hurt every time he wondered what he was doing at that very instant.

But he wouldn’t ever see him again, and he just needed to deal with it and push past it and continue living his damn life. Half alive was better than nothing he supposed.

Tommy downs the last of his wine and touches up his lips one last time. He’s putting on a black choker and some long dangling earrings when he sees his phone go off in the corner of his eye.

He picks it up as he walks out of his bedroom, boots in hand, “Hello?”

“Hey Tommy, I’m outside.” Tom’s voice is nervous and it makes Tommy roll his eyes as he pulls on his black boots. The heels are pretty conservative, just two inches but they’re just tall enough to give a little swing to his hips as he walks.

“I’ll be right down.”

Tommy flips the switch on his stereo system and turns out his lights, he really doesn’t need anything else, so he slips his key into his pocket after he locks his door and spins his phone in his hand like he used to spin his sticks and walks down the hall to the elevator.

Zutaut has a nice car but like everything else even remotely cool that Tom owns, he only has it because he thinks it makes him look cool. Which to Tommy is just so fucking sad. Still, he slides into the passenger seat and laughs when Tom nods at him approvingly.

“You look good Tommy.” The beta says happily as he pulls away from the curb and proceeds with what has to be the slowest drive to the Hollywood Hills that Tommy has ever experienced.

“Thanks, you told me to, but thank you I guess. You look…” Tommy trails off as he takes in Tom’s outfit of choice, “Like you’re going to church.”

Tom frowns instantly and points to the seatbelt that Tommy had neglected when he got into the car. “I like to dress professionally when I’m around my clients.”

Tommy scoffs and flicks at Zutaut’s arm lightly, “It’s a party Tom. Who the fuck wears a cardigan to a rock n’ roll signing party?”

“California is chilly at night! You’ll be begging for this cardigan later on!” Tom protests and Tommy laughs.

“Hos don’t get cold Zutaut. All you had to wear was jeans and a t-shirt and it would have been better than this. At least take off the cardigan and roll up your sleeves. You look like a goddamn missionary.”

“I’m regretting this already. They think I’m a loser Tommy!” Tom whines and even though it’s annoying, Tommy feels a little bad for the guy. So he resolves to do his best as Tom’s fake date for the night to get him noticed a little.

“Well, they won’t think that for long. That’s why you invited me, right?” Tom looks at the omega briefly before looking back quickly at the road, pulling into a long circular driveway and joining the line of cars waiting to be valeted. Tommy can hear the music already, something heavy and loud and it moves through him and makes him grin already.

Tom for his part looks sick and Tommy wants to bash his head in. What a night he’s in for. Okay, he thinks, time to at least set some ground rules.

“Listen Tom. I’m okay with letting people assume what they want to, alright? But if anyone blatantly asks what we are, you will tell them that we are friends. Okay?” Tommy speaks slowly so the other man doesn’t misunderstand through his nerves.

Tom’s face screws up unhappily, “But I thought-”

“I’ll walk in there with you. I’ll let you get me a drink, and I’ll let you put your arm around my waist while you introduce me to these guys that you signed but letting people think what they want to think and letting you blatantly say that you’re fucking me are two totally different things. I’m not playing that game. That’s where I draw the line, okay?” Tommy thinks that he’s being fair. Besides, being friends with a model is almost as good as scoring with one right? Maybe not, but that’s all Tom’s getting so, he should probably make his peace with it now.

Tom nods sulkily as he pulls his car up to the front, “Okay.”

Tommy sighs before putting a smile on his face when his door is opened for him. The house is monstrous, beautiful in that very in your face kind of way that Tommy doesn’t really care for. He’s been here once before, it’s Tom’s boss’ house, but the party that’s going on now is way rowdier than the last one he had attended here and Tommy feels his smile becoming more real. At least he’ll probably have fun tonight. All he has to do is meet Tom’s new clients and then hopefully he can go off and get drunk and act his normal foolish self when they lose interest and move on.

Tommy nearly startles when he feels an arm wrapping around his waist before he realizes that it’s just Tom and going by the look on the man’s face, Tommy is going to need to be the one to lead here. So he walks confidently up the sidewalk, dragging Tom along with the grip the other man has on his waist, and doesn’t even bother knocking on the door, pushing them open and walking inside like he owns the damn place.

“This is ridiculous.” Tom mutters under his breath so only Tommy can hear.

“This is awesome, Tom. Come on, at least try to have a little fun.” Tommy laughs happily, taking in the chaos that’s going on inside. The music is loud and aggressive and the lights are blued out in places and faintly strobing, enough to be special but not enough to be annoying, and twinkling white in others. There’s a sea of people dancing and Tommy spots a pool table in the room to the far right, a swimming pool visible through the glass walls with people fully dressed in it and surrounding it, and plush suede couches along the back wall.

Tommy has spotted at least a handful of musicians that he knows about, a half a dozen models he’s worked with, a couple of photographer’s and designers, and everyone else he has no idea.

“I need to find the guys!” Tom yells out to him, eyes darting around nervously. There’s a table to their left, one end empty while a bunch of guys play cards at the other end and Tommy sighs before hoisting himself up to sit on the edge.

“I’ll stay right here. You go ahead and get me a drink and bring whoever back that you want.” Tommy yells back. He crosses one long leg over the other and leans back just a little, weight resting on one arm that he props against the table a little behind him, taking note as one of the guys playing cards follows the movement with his eyes. Tommy gives him a coy smile and a wink just because he can as Tom nods and walks away.

The guy watching him from his card game looks at him curiously before grinning and getting up to walk over. He looks vaguely familiar to Tommy, with his long blonde hair, cute grin, and tall stature. It’s hard to tell people’s sub-gender’s in an environment like this, too many people in too close a proximity to really make anything out, but the man holds himself like an alpha.

He’s standing in front of Tommy before the omega has time to figure out where he knows the other man from and his grin is absolutely giddy as he looks at him.

“You’re Tommy Lee.”

Tommy blinks in surprise. It’s not like he doesn’t get recognized. He does occasionally, but people more often remember his face, they don’t really know his name.

“Umm, yeah, I am… How do you kno-”

“My lead singer is an absolute Gucci freak and your spread is literally one of his favorites. He has the photos posted up on his bunk wall on our tour bus.” The guy is laughing happily, sharing a conspiratorial look as he confides his friend’s secret and Tommy has to laugh along with him.

The omega shakes his head as he grins, “I really don’t know what to do with that information.”  

“Oh, tease the hell out of Axl when I bring him over to meet you, I hope. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather have you all to myself, but he would literally, and I mean literally, kill me if he were to find out that I met you and didn’t go get him.” A lightbulb goes off in his head at the name Axl and suddenly Tommy knows exactly who he’s talking to.

The omega smiles at him, “Well, we can’t have that now can we?”

The blond beams again, holding his hand out for Tommy to take and shake, “Duff Mckagen.”

Tommy leans back again when he releases the man’s hand, “I know, I watched your music video on MTV the other day. Guns N’ Roses, right?”

Duff nods, scratching at the back of his head somewhat sheepishly, “Yeah? What did you think?”

Tommy just can’t resist the opportunity to tease, “Eh.”

Duff throws his head back and laughs and Tommy smiles at him when he leans in a little closer, “You don’t pull your punches do you sweetheart?”

Tommy’s grin turns sharp as he lowers his gaze and looks at the bassist through his eyelashes, “You have no idea.”

The blond haired alpha leans his hip against the side of the table, nearly pressed right against Tommy’s side and he brings a hand up to lightly grip at his chin, tilting it to meet his gaze as he gives a little smirk that’s definitely attractive on him, “Maybe I should risk death and forget about introducing you to Axl, don’t need him to whisk your attention away from me.”

“Tommy!”

The omega sighs and rolls his eyes at the questioning look Duff gives him. Tom is making his way back over but Tommy doesn’t see anyone with him so he figures that he’s free to keep flirting with the blond bassist as Tom presses a drink into his hand.

“Did you find them?” Tommy asks politely. Zutaut looks anxious as all hell, so Tommy feels the need to be nice to the man.

“Uh, yeah, they were right behind me? I guess they got side tracked, they’ll be here.” Tom says, eyes flitting over the crowd before finally realizing that he had company.

“Duff? Hey man.” Tom says, voice at a higher pitch than usual, and Tommy raises an eyebrow at the producer. God, no wonder his clients didn’t respect him. The man couldn’t even talk to a musician without losing his shit.

“Hey Zutaut. Are you here with…” Duff asks but trails off like the question is so ridiculous he can’t even finish it.

Tom is about to answer but Tommy is cutting him off with a glare, “Yes and no. He’s a friend that I’m doing a favor for.”

Tom looks a bit put out but Duff smiles again, arm draping around Tommy’s shoulders, “Good, I was about to be really bummed out.”

“Look out Zutaut! Duffie’s gonna steal your model if you aren’t careful!” An obnoxious voice calls out boisterously followed nearly immediately by a loud and startlingly familiar, “HOLY FUCK.”

Tommy freezes. His whole body feels like a block of lead and he all of a sudden can’t breathe because there’s no fucking way.  

There’s no fucking way that after a year, Vince Neil is at the same party as him. But then a softer and achingly recognizable, “Shit,” has him wanting to cry because that was definitely Mick’s voice. He feels cold all over and despite not wanting to look up, he just has to because he knows, if Vince and Mick are there together, someone else is probably there too.  

So he shifts his gaze to look directly in front of him and sure enough, he’s there. Vince is staring at him with the most shocked expression on his face, Mick is looking at him with something that looks apologetic but he’s barely aware of any of that because Nikki is standing behind them both with the most intensely indiscernible expression on his face, eyes locked onto Tommy’s face.

He looks so good. So damn good in black jeans that are cut up at the knees and a tank top that shows off his muscled arms that are littered with more tattoos than he remembers, hair still jet black but pushed off of his forehead so his gorgeous face is visible and Tommy wants to whine and reach out for him, the longing he feels in his heart wanting a physical expression.

“Hi Nikki.” Tommy manages to force out even though the words had felt stuck in his throat before dragging his eyes away from the dark haired bassist, “Vince, Mick.”

Tommy narrows his eyes at the fourth person, “I don’t know you.”

“Sammy doll face, drummer.” The man reaches a hand out to shake but Tommy ignores it. And yeah, that may be petty but considering the situation, the omega feels like his actions are pretty justified.

Instead he tips his head back and downs the full glass of whiskey that Tom had brought him while the producer asks, “Tommy, you know the guys?”

“Apparently.” Tommy glares at the man. Why the hell didn’t he say earlier that the band he had signed was Mötley Crüe? Why the fuck hadn’t Tommy asked who this fucking party was for.

“Tommy was actually our original drummer.” Mick sighs, probably trying to ease the awkward atmosphere that’s settled around the group.

Sammy laughs, “No shit?! What happened? Couldn’t take the heat doll face?”

Tommy growls and is about lay into the asshole when Nikki all of a sudden finds his voice, “No, I fucked it all up. It was my fault he left.”

The omega feels a sharp spike of pain shoot through him and it’s enough to make his eyes water and he tries to take a breath without being too obvious about the fact that he suddenly can’t seem to get enough air.

He unexpectedly feels Duff’s arm moves from his shoulder to around his waist, hand squeezing his hip gently and Tommy can see the way Nikki’s jaw clenches and his eyes narrow, “Hey, you alright?”

Tommy shakes his head, “I’m not drunk enough for this shit, come get me another drink.”

And with that Tommy is dragging Duff with him and away from the people, the person, who was supposed to stay in his past.

Tommy feels panic bubbling up in his chest as he walks away from the alpha, and he can’t help but think about the last time he did this, a little less than a year ago.

~May 22nd, 2018~

Tommy didn’t necessarily like his job. It was alright, most of the time, and the owner never minded if he sent free drinks to his boys whenever they would come in to wait until the end of his shift so they could go out.

But the patrons were fucking annoying. They constantly groped or made comments to him after they had too much to drink, and while Tommy could usually handle this with a smile that typically got him extra tips, sometimes it went a little too far and it just flat out made him uncomfortable.

The most annoying part of his job though, is the goddamn strippers who don’t seem to understand- even though Tommy has very clearly and explicitly spelled it out for them- that Nikki is fucking off limits. Several girls would often caress the bassist’s shoulders as they walked by or lean down to peck him on the cheek but that was usually just to tease Tommy and while it annoyed the hell out of him, it was all in good fun and at the end of the day he knew that they respected him enough to never actually cross the line.

All of them, except Mindy.

Fucking Mindy, with her stupid fucking ‘only appropriate for a stripper’ name, was constantly flying past the goddamn line. Tommy hated the nights that he worked with her because that meant that she would usually plant herself right in Nikki’s lap for a free dance. Tommy confronted her about it a couple of times and she always said the same damn thing.

“You’re not mated Tommy. Until you are, Nikki is fair game so fuck off.” Fucking blonde haired bimbo.

Mindy and her shitty behavior made him seethe, but what really troubled him about the whole thing was how Nikki would just sit there and let it happen. Tommy had told him before that it bothered him, but the handful of times they talked about it Nikki would just dismiss his concerns with a ‘she’s just doing her job babe, doesn’t mean anything’ or a ‘you know her type doesn’t do anything for me babe, I prefer tall, leggy brunettes’ before he would proceed to make Tommy forget whatever they had just been talking about.

Despite Nikki’s nonchalance at the whole situation, it continues to upset Tommy every time it happens. Besides just the instinctual surge of possession that it stirs up in him when he sees the skank grinding on his alpha, there’s also the hurt that Nikki doesn’t seem to care that it bothers him. He could get maybe that Nikki doesn’t understand that seeing him under another omega, in a place of business or not, makes him feel terribly insecure which is so far from the norm for Tommy it actually turns his stomach when it happens. But to Tommy, it should have just taken him telling Nikki that it upset him for the alpha to put a stop to the activity.

But he doesn’t, and tonight it’s worse than usual because Mindy stays in Nikki’s lap even after Tommy clocks out. This is unusual because she typically times it to steer clear of Tommy after the omega had growled at her when they bumped into each other backstage last month but tonight when he walks out of the back, she’s still there and Nikki is calmly taking a sip from a bottle of Jack as he talks to Vince who has a girl in his own lap.

Tommy feels an unbridled rage fill him when he sees it and he has half a mind to stomp over there, push the bitch off of Nikki’s lap and maybe even punch that handsome face that belonged to his boyfriend, but he figures physical violence would probably get him fired and wouldn’t exactly be healthy for his relationship

So he decides to get drunk instead and wait for Mindy to leave so he can go over there, drag Nikki home and scream at him until Nikki just gets it because this is ending, tonight.

He huffs angrily when he harshly sits himself down on a stool at the bar and glowers, even when the bartender gives him a sympathetic smile and a drink without him having to ask.

“Mindy at it again?” She asks.

Tommy looks at her with a storm brewing behind his eyes, “Do you have to ask?”

“I don’t get why he doesn’t just knock her on her ass. He can do that if she’s giving him a dance he’s not paying for.”

“That’s what I fucking said.” Tommy grumbles before knocking back his drink. He sighs as he spins the empty glass and is about to motion for another one when the red haired beta behind the counter is passing another drink into his hands.

He gives her a grateful look but she shakes her head at him, “That one’s not from me honey.”

She points a little ways down the bar and a man that Tommy recognizes from his rotation is waving at him with a little half smile. He’s attractive, objectively. He’s a little shorter than Tommy which isn’t surprising, most people are, but he’s built well and he must be some sort of Hispanic because his skin is tanned cinnamon and his short hair is thick and a deep dark brown just like his eyes. Tommy is a little surprised and he’s waving back as he takes a sip from the drink. Apparently the guy takes that as an invitation because he’s walking over immediately.

He’s sliding to stand against the bar right next to where Tommy is sitting and the drummer’s eyes widen at how close the other man is so suddenly.

“So, I’m guessing since you’re drinking that means that your off?” The guy has a nice smile, Tommy will give him that. And he smells pretty good, obviously an alpha and like strong coffee. But this is really not anything that Tommy is interested in.

“What an intelligent observation. Give the guy a prize.” Tommy rolls his eyes. Yeah, that was a little bitchy but he’s mad, and upset, so sue him.

The guy’s smile stays firmly stretched across his face though, brown eyes lit up in amusement, “Ouch.”

Tommy snorts a laugh at the guy’s determination not to be deterred by his obviously pissy mood, “Sorry, you just really caught me at a bad time. I’m taken anyway.”

The omega looks back to check on Nikki and practically growls in frustration when he see Mindy still seated on his alpha’s lap. When the fuck does she get off work anyway?

The alpha at his side leans around him to follow his gaze and raises an eyebrow when Tommy meets his eyes again, “Is that who you’re taken by?”

Tommy bristles at the judgment he hears in the man’s voice and finishes his drink quickly, not minding in the least when the alpha motions for another round from the bartender.

“Didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just, how much of a moron is he if he has someone like you waiting for him and he’s wasting his time with that dime a dozen slut?” The guy snorts and presses the glass of another drink into Tommy’s hands.

And well, wasn’t that just the most dangerously right thing for him to have said.

Tommy watches as the guy smiles again, obviously amused that Tommy is so shocked by what he just said, “I’m Gabe.”

“Tommy.” The drummer answers almost unthinking, “And he may be a moron but I’m, unfortunately at the moment, in love with him so if you could not insult him, I’d appreciate it.”

Gabe shakes his head incredulously, “You’re really something else. Really irritates me that you’re not available. Well Tommy, I have a proposition for you if you’re interested.”

“This ought to be good. Go ahead.” Tommy smiles in amusement. He wasn’t doing anything else at the moment. Just waiting for a slut to get off of his boyfriend. No big deal. He had time to waste.

The smile across Gabe’s face morphs into a smirk and he takes a step further into Tommy’s space so that he’s very nearly knocking knees with him, “I’m just going to throw it out there that I am totally okay with you using me to give your guy over there a taste of his own medicine. Like, completely okay with it, down right on board to flirt with you for a while until he learns his lesson.”

Tommy’s laughing even though he doesn’t want to. From the corner of his eye he sees Mindy finally get off of Nikki’s lap and even though Nikki looks completely unbothered by her absence, head turning this way and that, obviously looking for Tommy, the omega is still incredibly angry and upset and maybe a little tipsy. Liquor doesn’t typically hit him this hard but three drinks so fast on an empty stomach while he’s tired from a shift obviously have had more of an effect than usual.

And Gabe is nice and funny, and Tommy really wants to just make Nikki understand how he’s been feeling. His head is screaming ‘bad idea, bad idea, bad idea’ but the pain in his heart just says ‘fuck off, we’re doing this’ and he’s spreading his legs just enough for the alpha to push just a little bit closer. It’s nothing explicit really, the man is just standing in the space between his knees, nowhere nears his thighs or his hips, but the suggestion is there and Tommy looks up at the other man, “And what lesson would that be?”

Gabe is still smiling but his eyes are serious when he lifts a hand to sweep his fingers through the curls that frame Tommy’s face, “That you’re a fucking knock out, and if he isn’t careful, someone will definitely sweep in to take you away.”

Tommy laughs softly, no fucking way was anyone taking him away from Nikki, but he’s flattered all the same, “You really are pretty fucking smooth, if I wasn’t-”

“Tommy.”

The sound of Nikki’s voice, pitched low and warning, has Tommy jerking away from Gabe so fast he nearly gets whiplash. He also teeters precariously on the stool at the movement and he feels Gabe place his hands on his waist to steady him so he doesn’t fall but the deep, loud growl that Nikki lets out has Gabe’s hands flying away in a flash.

Tommy faces Nikki fully then and the alpha looks like a force of nature standing there, body tense and eyes dark, jaw and fists clenched, looking for all intents and purposes that he’s seconds away from lunging at the alpha that’s standing so close to Tommy.

“We’re going home now Tommy.”

Nikki’s tone leaves no room for argument but Tommy still rolls his eyes and out of spite, because how dare Nikki sit there for like an hour with a stripper in his lap and then get this angry over a few minutes of harmless flirting, he turns back to Gabe as he stands up and says, “Thanks for the drinks, and the company.”

Tommy can practically hear Nikki’s teeth grinding when Gabe beams at him, “Anytime sweetheart.”

Nikki is gripping his hand then and pulling them rapidly toward the door but Gabe catches up with them, apparently unable to resist fucking with Nikki’s head one more time, and presses a napkin into Tommy’s hand, “Just in case you ever find yourself unattached.”

They’re out the door in a flash after that and Tommy throws the napkin with what he expects is Gabe’s phone number scribbled on it away. He knows Nikki sees him do it but it does little to calm the older man down as he pulls Tommy quickly down the street, dropping his hand when they approach their apartment and taking the stairs two at a time, leaving the door open for Tommy to shut.

As soon as the lock clicks into place, Nikki is speaking, and his tone is so raw and angry that Tommy is actually startled.

“What the fuck was that Tommy?” Nikki’s eyes are stone cold as he looks at him from across the living room.

Tommy is quiet for a minute because this is a little more intense than he had thought it would be. He figured Nikki would be pissed and they would scream at each other before falling together into angry passionate sex to relieve the frustration and then kiss and whisper apologies into each other’s skin afterwards. That was what was typical for them, both running a little too hot and energy just too high between them to argue quietly or passive aggressively.

Though, Tommy thinks a little guiltily, flirting with Gabe was some pretty passive aggressive shit on his part but no! Fuck this, this whole thing started because of Nikki’s shitty behavior and lack of regard for his feelings so he doesn’t get to stand there on the offensive and make Tommy feel bad. Fuck that.

“Oh fuck off Nikki, you’re not seriously going to stand there and question me over a little fucking flirting are you?” Tommy crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the alpha, not backing down and rearing to tear into him over this finally.

“A little fucking flirting? The guy was between your fucking legs and looked to be about one fucking drink from getting you into bed with him.” Nikki snarks at him cruelly.

Tommy narrows his eyes further and snarls back, “I would never have done that Nikki, thanks for the fucking vote of confidence though. It’s absolutely fucking mind blowing that you can stand there and call me a whore for letting another man barely touch me when you literally just spent an hour my with coworker’s ass grinding on your dick.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, is this coming up fucking again?! She’s a fucking stripper Tommy, that’s what she fucking does for a living.” Nikki has the audacity to look annoyed now and Tommy growls at the alpha for still being so stupid.

“No, this is ending fucking tonight because I am so sick of you just not fucking comprehending this. She’s not fucking accepting payment from you for those fucking dances Nikki. That means she’s doing it because she fucking wants you and you fucking entertain her, while I’m literally feet away working, you selfish, cold fucking dick! What fucking part of this confuses you? It would have been no different if I had pushed that fucking guy into a seat and rode him in the middle of the fucking room. And you do this every fucking week! Fuck! Maybe I should have kept his fucking number, as least he had the damn sense to see that I was more worth his time than a fucking stripper!” Tommy fumes, and yeah, that was a little harder than he typically goes but he needs to get this through Nikki’s skull right fucking now.

Nikki’s pale green eyes are ice right now, hardening the more Tommy lays into him, but Tommy can see the wild panic that shoots through them when he mentions keeping Gabe’s number. Tommy knows that this isn’t good, he knows that Nikki has abandonment issues from how he grew up and fear makes Nikki do irrational, terrible things and he immediately wants to de-escalate the situation but then Nikki is speaking again and his tone is nothing short of disgusted when he says, “Are you really that fucking insecure?”

It’s like a sharp slap to the face and Tommy feels his control of the situation slipping through his fingers, knows that Nikki has none to speak of either and this is spiraling much further than it needed to.

He tries to soften his approach and weakly says, “Nikki…”

But it’s too late for that now, fear and pain and panic have a hold on Nikki now and the older man is backing away from him then and shaking his head, not even screaming but voice still cutting into Tommy’s heart when he continues his assault, “I should have fucking knew that you were too immature to handle this Tommy. What kind of a juvenile fucking slut tries to fuck with another guy just to make their boyfriend jealous over a few fucking lap dances?”

Tommy bites his lip to try to stifle the whimper the wants to come out because Nikki doesn’t usually speak to him like this. They scream and curse and they’ll insult each other but it’s always general, this, this is personal and he feels like he’s going to cry, eyes watering but doing his best to clear his expression and stop this before it goes too far to fix, “Nikki, baby, please…”

Nikki shakes his head, “Who fucking fucks up their relationship because of some stupid insecurity? A fucking kid does that Tommy, it’s fucking pathetic.”

Tommy takes in a shuddering breath, “Nikki stop, just stop!”

“This is the fucking life Tommy. This is being a goddamn rock star. This is what we fucking wanted. If you can’t handle a few fucking strippers without thinking that I want them more than I want you then we should just fucking end this now before you bring us all down with your goddamn pathetic insecurities. I don’t want anything to do with someone like that.”

Tommy feels a shattering pain in his chest and distantly hears a small broken whimper that he’s startled to realize has come from him. He can feel the warmth and wetness of his tears finally falling down his cheeks and Nikki is looking at him with what looks like immediate regret mixed up with the anger and the fear but Tommy can’t analyze that look, he can’t stay there for one more fucking minute and he’s running out of the apartment as fast as his long legs can take him, heart breaking all the more when he realizes that Nikki isn’t coming after him.

He ends up on a friend’s couch that night, and after several nights with no word from Nikki, he supposes that the set-up is permanent. He feels broken, unable to get himself to do the simplest of things, and as the days go by it doesn’t get any easier. He spends his nights curled up on the couch in physical pain from missing the older man so damn much. Everything in him wants to call Nikki. If he wants to fix this, he needs to be the one to do it because he knows that Nikki is probably buried too deep in a hole of self-loathing to even think that this is repairable. But every time he goes to press the alpha’s number into his phone he hears those terrible things he had said to him and he physically recoils from the slim possibility that Nikki actually meant them.

His friends go get his stuff from the apartment. Vince and Mick try calling him and texting but he can’t read them after the first few glances revealed Nikki’s name so he blocks all of their numbers, the last of Tommy Lee, drummer of Mötley Crüe, dying as he presses the delete button on Nikki’s contact information.

~May 15th, 2019~

Tommy all but collapses again the counter top when they reach the kitchen and Duff has the common sense to move them a little further into a more secluded corner, away from most of the people who are milling in and out of the room.

The omega is grateful to him because he feels like he’s about to have a panic attack, and wow, he’s never had one of those before. But Duff presses into his space, cupping his face to push his hair back so that Tommy focuses on his face.

“Hey, hey, Tommy, look at me okay? Focus on me, I need you to try to breathe a little more deeply okay? Just slow down a little bit okay?”

Tommy feels his breathing even out a little bit, still a little shaky but not nearly as gasping as he had been. He pulls back from the other man and leans against the glass door that leads to the balcony, the cold seeping through his shirt at his shoulder blades and grounding him.

Duff gives him a minute to calm down, but when Tommy is lucid enough to clearly meet his eyes, he’s raising an eyebrow, “So….”

Tommy groans and covers his eyes with his hands before resolutely dragging them through his hair.

“I’m guessing you and Sixx have history then.” Duff says gently, settling against the door next to Tommy.

Tommy closes his eyes and feels the words sink into his brain. History. Images of Nikki grabbing him around the waist, the both of them giggling loudly as they dance crazy and wild in the living room, of Nikki wrapping his arms around his waist from behind randomly and pressing his lips to his shoulder softly to inhale his scent, flash before his eyes and he walks to the table where the liquor is. He grabs the first thing he sees, a bottle of vodka in an ice bucket and unscrews it to take a gulp as he stands there.

Duff nods, “Yeah, definitely history. Shit, I knew Sixx was fucked up over someone, never imagined it would be over Tommy fucking Lee.”

Tommy whips his head around to stare at the blond haired alpha, “What do you mean?”

“Dude, Nikki has been a damn mess ever since I met him. We didn’t know what his deal was, you know? Because he doesn’t do the typical rock star shit, like yeah, he drinks like no one I have ever seen and he’ll take a bump every now and again and he smokes weed whenever you offer but the whole one night stand, fucking groupies, going to strip clubs, all that other shit, he wants nothing to do with. We couldn’t believe it because Nikki Sixx is one crazy mother fucker, we thought for sure that he would have a constant rotation of omega’s and beta’s but he was never with anyone. So we asked Sammy because he’s the only one who will talk about it and he said that Sixx fucked up his shot with his true mate and he hasn’t been interested in anyone since. Guessing that was you.”

Tommy bites his lip, taking in the information and feeling his heart hurt at the thought of his alpha in pain over him. “We were always, we were always so intense you know?”

Duff doesn’t say anything, just nods and listens like he knows that Tommy needs to just talk it out.

“It was immediate, like a gasoline fire, coming to life so fucking fast but it just never, it never burned out. I think we almost half expected it to, that’s why we took a couple weeks to acknowledge it but it just never went away. Not after we confessed, not after we got together, not even after months of being a couple. It was incredible because it meant that everything was so passionate, everything was electric and so fulfilling but it was a double edged sword because when we fought, Christ, we fought hard. That’s what did it, a stupid fucking fight we should never have gotten into. He said some things, I said some terrible shit back, and then he said some really terrible shit and it just spiraled out of control until we broke and neither of us could bring ourselves out of our heart break to try to repair it.”

Duff watches Tommy as he takes another pull from the vodka bottle, his eyes are closed, brown waves still falling softly around his face and every inch of him screams longing. Sixx is a fucking lucky guy.

“You still love him.”

Tommy lowers the vodka bottle and opens his eyes and the look he gives Duff, the sad little smile, is heartbreaking, “Of course I still love him. He’s my true mate. I knew it from that very first night we met in that dingy little fucking diner.”

Duff is nodding suddenly, and it confuses Tommy because the blond alpha looks resolute as he says, “Why don’t we get some air? You go wait out there on the balcony and I’ll be right back, I’m just going tell Zutaut that you’re okay and you’re calming down so he doesn’t come bothering you.”

Tommy finds himself nodding along gently, some air would be nice and there weren’t any people out there on the balcony. So he slides the glass door open as Duff walks out of the kitchen and closes it behind him.

Zutaut had been right, California does get chilly at night but Tommy has lived here all his life and he embraces it happily. It feels nice against his stress heated skin and he walks over to lean his elbows on the wide stone railing and look out over the garden.

He’s taking another long sip from his vodka bottle when he hears the door behind him slide open and shut again and he turns around as he says, “Well that didn’t take too long.”

But it isn’t Duff standing there just a few feet away from him. Of course it isn’t. Because life isn’t fair like that and it doesn’t care what Tommy thinks he wants, it only cares about what he needs.

Which is why Nikki stands there like one of Tommy’s damn dreams. Tommy is quiet as he drinks in the sight of the alpha in front of him, eyes tracking over the familiarities of his features and noting the changes, how his body seems broader, muscles thicker than just a year ago but his face and his eyes are looking at Tommy like they always used to, with that damn expression that made Tommy feel like the most important thing in the whole damn world to Nikki.

It makes him angry.

“What do you want Sixx, I’m trying to drink myself into a stupor here.” Tommy says as he turns his back to the man so he wouldn’t have to see his eyes anymore.

“Tommy.”

The omega fucking flinches at the sound of his name like that. Nikki didn’t speak it so much as breathed it reverently, and he needed to shut that shit down right now.

“Don’t say my name like that.” Tommy snaps at him, whirling back around to face his past head on. Nikki is looking at with a determined expression that literally scares the hell out of Tommy, the omega’s eyes widening when Nikki starts walking towards him.

“Stay the fuck away from me Sixx.” Tommy warns him, but his voice is nowhere near as strong as he wants it to be, cracking underneath the weight of his emotions as Nikki gets closer to him.

Nikki just shakes his head and simply says, “No baby.”  

There are tears in Tommy’s eyes again at the pet name and he’s weakly demanding, “Don’t fucking call me that.”

But Nikki is right on top of him then and his arms are wrapping around Tommy like they belong there, one going around his waist to pull him close and the other coming up to bury his fingers in Tommy’s hair and cradle the back of his head as the omega melts into him with a sob, face buried in Nikki’s neck.

Nikki is pressing gentle kisses into his hair but he’s breathing harshly and Tommy can feel tears dropping to land on his shoulder but he’s sobbing too, shoulders shaking with his hands against Nikki’s chest, the alpha’s heart beating so fucking fast as he talks, “I know, fucking hell, baby, I know, should have done this that night, I was so stupid, Jesus Christ Tommy, baby.”

Tommy cries soften at that, just enough for him to stammer out, “What the fuck happened? What the hell happened to us?”

Nikki is pulling back just enough to look into Tommy’s face and his cheeks are wet with tears when he shakes his head again, “It was me baby. It was all fucking me. I got, I was so caught up in portraying this image of what I thought I should be and I let it get way too fucking out of hand. Fuck Tommy, I was so fucking disrespectful towards you, I should never have even let that slut come near me, let alone… fuck and even then I should have stopped it the minute you said it upset you.”

Tommy looks away to the side, his own guilt eating him up until he says, “I shouldn’t have flirted with that guy in the bar that night. It was fucking petty and I knew it was a bad idea, I was just so mad and upset and I-”

Nikki cups the side of Tommy’s face gently with one hand to turn it back to meet his gaze, calloused thumb swiping over his cheekbone to brush the tears away as they continue to fall, “You had every fucking right to do whatever you could to try to get me to see how much I was hurting you Tommy. When I saw you with him, fuck I had already been drinking and that just sent me into a rage and when I got closer and heard him fucking say that shit about taking you away from me, I just lost control for the rest of the night. I was so scared Tommy, I was so fucking scared of that happening, you have no damn idea because I knew, I knew I wasn’t good enough for you. I let that fear and my own damn fucking ego influence me and I didn’t mean a goddamn thing I said to you that night baby. If nothing else, I need you to know that. I didn’t mean a single word.”

Tommy lets the words fall over him and feels his heart break all over again at how they had let something like this ruin them, keeping his eyes locked with Nikki’s when he asks something that has kept him awake for many nights over the past year, “Why didn’t you come after me? Why didn’t you call? I was waiting for you Nikki. Do you know how much I fucking tortured myself with wanting to call but refusing to because I thought that maybe you didn’t want me around anymore? Part of me knew you still loved me, part of me knew that it was just a stupid fucking fight that got out of hand but as soon as that part of me would convince me to call, I would think about what you said and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand the thought, the possibility that maybe that was really how you felt.”

Nikki makes a pained sound in the back of his throat, more tears tracking softly down his face as he presses his forehead into Tommy’s and the omega can’t help how his hands curl over the sides of his neck, Nikki’s pain a reflection of his own.

“I’m sorry Tommy. I’m so absolutely and completely fucking sorry. I was the moment I finished talking but the look on your face...”

Nikki suddenly releases the grip he has on Tommy and the omega feels the loss of contact in the form of a physical pain as the other man take a few steps away and looks out over the railing, “I didn’t fucking deserve you Tommy. I don’t deserve you. The expression on your face that night before you ran out the door, I did that. That was my fault, I made you feel like that and that fucking haunted me. I couldn’t call you, I was afraid that if I did, if you came back, I would do something to put that expression back on your face again eventually. You were better off without me.”

Tommy bites his lip softly. There were a million ways that he could respond to that and initially he wants to yell at Nikki that he’s a fucking idiot because not only was that completely untrue, that also wasn’t Nikki’s choice to make. But he knows Nikki, he knows him so well and being back in his arms, even as stressful and brief as it had been, has brought back in stark relief just how desperately Tommy had missed him.

“You never got it Sixx. You could never quite understand that you’re not the bad guy.”

Nikki shifts his gaze back to Tommy quickly, eyes wide and mouth open like he wants to protest but Tommy doesn’t give him the opportunity, “You’ve never been the bad guy Nikki. No matter what you think about yourself, it’s just not the truth. You try to be sometimes, but you can’t quite manage to be what you seem to think you are. Better off without you? I was fucking miserable every damn day. You hurt me that night Nik, but I hurt you too. You don’t carry the responsibility for where we are now alone.”

The alpha shakes his head, about to respond when the doors to the balcony are suddenly thrown open, a drunken couple practically falling through the doors before crowding themselves against the railing to make out without even a glance to see who was around them.

Tommy has to let out a breathy laugh as he wipes at the tear tracks on his cheeks. He remembers when he and Nikki used to be like that, their passion consuming any sense of shame or modesty. Nikki must be thinking the same thing because he’s looking at Tommy with a wistful little smile.

“Not exactly the best setting to have this conversation I guess.” Nikki sighs gently, moving a little closer to Tommy now to keep their words private.

Tommy shakes his head, wrapping his arms around himself, unsure of what to say or do now that the emotionally charged moment has been broken.

Nikki reaches a hand up to sweep through his hair, pushing it back off his face before he grimaces, obviously at war with what he’s about to say but forcing the words out anyway, “Do you want to go back to the party? It looked like you were having fun before, with… with Duff.”

Tommy can see how the statement hurts him to say, can see how hard Nikki is trying to respect that Tommy isn’t his anymore and not get possessive but Tommy doesn’t want to go back to the party. He doesn’t want to go back to flirting with Duff and pretending like Nikki is just another person in the room, like they weren’t still desperate for each other.

Tommy didn’t know a lot right now, he was confused and overwhelmed but if there was one thing he knew with certainty it was that he had never stopped loving Nikki. Even just standing here next to the alpha after everything that had happened over the last year has Tommy feeling like something in him is finally settling back into place, a warmth reawakening that piece of him that had been dormant without his bassist.

If they were going to fix this, if they had a second chance, it wasn’t going to happen with them parting ways here and acting like nothing had happened for the rest of the night.

So Tommy shakes his head, “I don’t want to go back to the party Nikki…”

The bassist lets out a long exhale, relief clear on his face before hesitating. It’s new to Tommy, to see Nikki acting so cautious, so careful and unsure.

“I could drive you home? We could talk a little more in the car, if you want?”

“It’s your party Nikki. Fuck, you guys got signed! You should stay and enjoy it.” Tommy is earnest when he says it, despite wanting nothing more than to continue talking. He doesn’t know what’s going to come of this, if it’s closure that he’s after or maybe something more, the idea of a second chance settling dangerously in his mind and in his heart the more Nikki looks at him. But just because he isn’t exactly in a party mood anymore doesn’t mean that Nikki shouldn’t stay and celebrate.

But Nikki’s lips pull into that smile that always leaves Tommy a little breathless, the alpha reaching towards him to sweep some of the curls around Tommy’s face back behind his ear, “Like I give a fuck about anything else in the world when I have the chance to stay with you just a little bit longer.”

“Nikki…” Tommy whispers his name so softly, like he couldn’t help himself, it makes Nikki shudder to hear it from the omega’s lips.

“Let me drive you home Tommy, please?” Nikki is almost begging at this point and he looks completely unbothered by this fact. So okay with pleading for just a few more minutes of his time that Tommy is nodding without even thinking about it.

“Yeah, okay. Okay Nik.”

The dark haired bassist nods in acceptance, hand coming down to rest against the small of his back and lead him through the doors. Tommy sets the bottle of vodka he had swiped back on the counter top as they move through the kitchen, not needing it as much as he had when he walked away from Nikki earlier that night.

Nikki’s hand is warm against his lower back and it lights him up in a way he hasn’t felt in the past year. Such simple contact, such a simple touch but even so, it’s eliciting more passion from him than the entire experience of the four one night stands he has had over the past year. It’s deliciously distracting, so much so that Tommy barely notices his surroundings as they move through the house, not even acknowledging anyone who calls out to him and Nikki is much the same, moving at a steady pace with single minded determination.

The valet brings Nikki’s car so fast that they barely get the opportunity to even look at each other, eyes meeting shyly and cautiously. Tommy grins when the car pulls up. He knows nearly nothing about cars, but he recognizes the sleek black vehicle as one that Nikki used to go on and on about when they were together.

Nikki notices his eyes light up in recognition and laughs softly, “My signing bonus was well spent, yeah?”

Tommy laughs along with him, suddenly so happy for the other man. He knows that Nikki’s upbringing was tumultuous, between his neglectful mother and living poor with his grandparents. Being able to buy something that he had dreamed about for years, owning something that, was absolutely incredible.

“That’s a fucking understatement.” Tommy teases as Nikki insists on opening his door instead of the valet attendant.

Nikki slides into the driver’s seat and as soon as he starts the car, the engine roaring to life, heat shoots through Tommy so abruptly he nearly gasps. Nikki just looks so good like this, just as fucking gorgeous as he always was and the whole scenario is suddenly crashing into Tommy’s head like a wave. If they hadn’t been so stupid that night, if either of them had just been brave enough to reach out sooner, Tommy would have seen this on the regular. He’d have probably been there when Nikki went to purchase the damn car in the first place.

If the past year hadn’t happened, Tommy would be able to do something about the lust rushing through him at the sight of Nikki right now. Tommy blushes when he realizes that he probably wouldn’t have hesitated to do exactly what he wanted, how he would have undone his seatbelt so he could lean over far enough to bury his face in Nikki’s lap, how he would have pressed kisses to Nikki’s length through the material of his jeans until Nikki would growl at him like he used to when he would tease. How he would have continued to go much further than that.

Nikki is inhaling sharply suddenly and the sound has Tommy blinking away the daze that he had been in just in time to hear what Nikki says, “Tommy, baby, whatever you’re thinking about, please stop.”

Tommy’s blush deepens when he realizes that sometime during his heated daze he had gotten wet. Jesus Christ, has anyone ever been able to wind him up like that just by sitting in the damn driver’s seat of a fucking car?

“Sorry…” Tommy says quietly in embarrassment and Nikki turns to him sharply, eyes dark and serious.

“Don’t ever be sorry for that Tommy. Fuck, I’m so deliriously happy that you even still… fuck, that you even want me like that. I just, you smell so fucking good babe and it’s making it really difficult to control myself and I don’t think it’s going to help us talk about everything we need to talk about if I jump you right here in my car.”

Tommy shivers, a small part of him wanting to encourage Nikki to do just that, but he was right. They had a lot to work out before coming close to that point.

So he takes a deep breath, trying to cool down a little bit and decides to tease the older man to break the tension, “You’re right Nikki, it’s just, it’s a really fucking nice car.”

The alpha laughs at that, the sound just as boisterous as Tommy remembered and it has him laughing too. Nikki quiets down to a chuckle and brings up the navigation screen.

“What’s your address babe?” Nikki asks and Tommy leans forward to put the address in, looking at the estimated time of 25 minutes and then Nikki is grinning.

“Want to see how much we can beat that time by?” Nikki challenges, voice mischievous as the engine revs and Tommy feels a tingle of excitement creep into his chest.

“Trying to impress me Nik?” Tommy asks, brown eyes bright as he looks into Nikki’s pale green ones.

Nikki grins, “Fucking always babe.”

Tommy doesn’t even have time to respond after that because he’s letting out a small surprised yelp as Nikki floors it and takes the fuck off. He hears the alpha chuckling again and he reaches out to slap his arm for scaring him but he’s laughing anyway too.

It’s so easy. So ridiculously easy falling back into the fun, playful flirting. This was how it was supposed to be, the two of them laughing as Nikki sped down the streets of Los Angeles with Tommy encouraging him to go faster, music blasting out of open windows and by the time they pull into an open space on the street outside of Tommy’s apartment, a full ten minutes faster than their navigation had said, both of their cheeks hurt from smiling.

Tommy knows his hair is an absolute wreck from the wind but Nikki’s eyes are moving over him after they park and sit there for a minute, and Tommy feels more stunning with the bassist staring at him with that look in his eyes than he does glammed out in front of the camera for work.

“I always loved when you looked at me like that.”

The words are escaping his lips before Tommy has a chance to pull them back but Nikki smiles at him softly, “Like what?”

Tommy looks down briefly, biting his lip as he thinks about it before deciding to just say it, “Like you think I’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.”

Nikki’s smile grows, his eyes still warm and intense as he stares at him, “I always look at you like that.”

Tommy nods and exhales a shaky breath, “I know.”

Nikki reaches out slowly, giving Tommy time to stop him if he wants to as he cups his cheek in his hand, thumb rubbing softly over his cheekbones, “We didn’t really talk like we were supposed to.”

Tommy leans into the caress, eyes closing as he thinks over what he wants to do. He knows most people in his position would do the logical thing, the safe thing. They would tell Nikki that they can meet up tomorrow or whenever they both had free time. They would take this slow, take the time to heal together before moving on to maybe try a relationship again.

Tommy opens his eyes, knowing exactly what he wants to say.

“You could come up? To talk now, if you want.” Tommy has never been most people.

Nikki is looking at him searchingly, silent for a minute as he takes his hand away before nodding.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s talk.”

They’re quiet as Tommy scans his key card to let them into the lobby and they wait for an elevator. Nikki is looking around curiously, trying to acquaint himself with this new aspect of Tommy’s life that he missed out on.

Tommy likes his apartment. He could afford something bigger if he really wanted, but he never really felt the need for more when it was just him. A part of him reasons that maybe he just didn’t have the enthusiasm over the past year that he once did and that was why he didn’t necessarily care about having fun with his money. But still, he lived in a nice area and the building had been an old 1940’s hotel that had been renovated into apartments. His own unit is nice, with tall ceilings and massive windows that give a stunning view of the city but with that interesting old world charm that makes it unique. When they make it to the peak floor nine stories up and Tommy opens his front door, Nikki grins wide and nods to himself in some sort of approval.

“I love it T, not something I’d expect from a Gucci model but I absolutely fucking love it.”

Tommy blushes as he throws his keys and phone onto the small table by the door and takes his shoes off to get more comfortable, “Oh, you saw that huh?”

Nikki surprises him by blushing too, the older man toeing his own shoes off to match Tommy, “Uh, yeah, well... I don’t want to say that I stalked you on social media for the last six months but that’s kind of exactly what I was doing I guess.”

“Oh.” Tommy says quietly, and Nikki would be worried but the omega has a small little smile on his face.

“Yeah.” Nikki exhales, looking around as they stand in the front entrance of Tommy’s apartment.

Tommy feels nerves flood him suddenly. It was easier in the car when they had something fun to distract them but there’s something much more intimate about having Nikki in his apartment. He had tried to completely erase any sign of Nikki from his life when he had left and now the man was here, standing barefoot in his home.

He takes a shaky breath and moves to the open kitchen, needing an outlet for his nervous energy, already opening up cabinets and getting glasses down as he asks, “Do you want anything? I mean, I haven’t restocked my liquor but I have wine that someone left here if you want some.”

Tommy nearly screams when he feels hands touch his waist softly to settle and turn him around.

“Wine is good T, why don’t you sit down and I’ll get it?” Nikki asks him slowly, obviously trying to calm him down a little bit.

Tommy nods and follows Nikki’s suggestion, sitting himself down on the couch and taking a few deep breaths until Nikki hands him a glass of some sort of white wine, sitting the bottle on the coffee table and sitting down himself a respectful distance away. Tommy doesn’t know if he wishes he would move closer or further. Not sure what would settle his nerves better.

They drink quietly for a few minutes, trying to figure out where to start. There’s so much Tommy wants to say and yet everything escapes him at the moment but he has to say something and a sudden thought lights up in his head.

“Duff said that you haven’t been with anyone in the past year.”

Tommy blushes when Nikki starts coughing on the sip of wine he was taking. And he can’t really blame him, of all the places to start, Tommy chooses that.

“He fucking told you that?” Nikki groans, hand coming up to cover his eyes in what seems to be mortification.

“Don’t be mad at him, he was trying to get me to calm down and I think he could sense that we, you know that we had history and was probably just telling me what he thought I wanted to hear.” Tommy tried to sooth.

Nikki shakes his head and moves his hand but he keeps his eyes on the glass of wine in his hands, “He wasn’t.”

Tommy looks at the other man in confusion, body twisting to settle so that he’s angled towards the alpha, “He wasn’t what?”

Nikki sighs and moves so that he mirrors Tommy, looking him in the eyes again, “He wasn’t just telling you what you wanted to hear. I haven’t been with anyone in the past year.”

Tommy widens his eyes as he stares at the bassist incredulously, “Why?”

Nikki downs the rest of his wine and then sighs, “Tommy, you... you really have no idea how much it hurt me to lose you do you? I fucking, I hated myself. When you ran out, I wanted to follow you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get myself to move because I was so fucking angry at myself and then you didn’t come back. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You were always so much better than me with talking things out and expressing yourself and I was being selfish again by waiting for you to reach out but when you didn’t, I fucking lost it. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore, and I thought the only way I could do that was by staying away.”

“That was stupid.” Tommy replies heatedly, “We were both so fucking stupid.”

Nikki nods solemnly, “I know. I know that now. Seeing you sitting on that table, I swear, I think my breathing just stopped. My whole body stopped. Vince literally had to drag me forward. You were just there and so damn stunning, fuck Tommy, how could I have wanted anyone after you?”

Tommy feels his eyes watering but he can’t cry anymore tonight. He thinks back to the one night stands he had while trying to forget Nikki and he feels so guilty that he’s covering his face with his free hand to hide.

“Babe, Tommy, it’s okay baby.” Nikki is scooting closer to him and gently pulling his hand away. “It’s okay if you were with someone else. You didn’t owe me shit, and besides, I wouldn’t have wanted you to go through a heat by yourself.”

Tommy’s eyes widen again and frantically catch Nikki’s gaze because no, he absolutely can’t think that.

“I didn’t spend my heat with anyone Nikki. How in the absolute hell, that was never an option. I couldn’t, you… you’re the only alpha I ever want for my heat Nik.”

Nikki growls at that and the sounds sends shivers down Tommy’s spine and heat through his lower stomach. That sound was always one of Tommy’s favorites, it was just so primal, so deep and possessive that it never failed to get him hot and now is no exception.

Nikki swallows hard and lets go of Tommy’s hand, “I think I need to go baby.”

Tommy flat out whines at that, still caught up in the headspace that Nikki’s growl had sent him into but he comes out of it quickly enough, “Wait, what, but what are we…”

“Babe, I don’t want to leave. Trust me. But between what you just said and your earlier stunt in the car… I may not be a bad guy but I’m not a saint either baby and I’m really running out of self-control here and I’m trying to respect your space.”

Tommy frowns, heat still spreading through him at the blatant desire in Nikki’s eyes. He doesn’t want Nikki to leave. It’s such a sudden but desperate thought that Tommy is reaching forward and grabbing at Nikki’s hand, “Don’t leave.”

Nikki’s eyes soften and his fingers of his free hand rake through Tommy’s hair until it rests under his jaw, “Let me take you to dinner tomorrow.”

Tommy blinks in confusion, dizzy from how all the different directions this night has gone, “Huh?”

Nikki nods and smiles nervously at him, “Dinner T. You know, like a date. Or a pre-date, or just a get together between friends who may or may not pursue each romantically after a period of healing. Whatever you want it to be, this is totally up to you-”

Tommy laughs softly and nods just to put Nikki out of his misery, “It’s a date.”

Nikki laughs, “Okay. So it’s a date.”

Tommy smiles but then Nikki is pressing a sweet kiss to the fingers of the hand Tommy had used to grab his and getting up to walk to the door.

This is good, Tommy thinks. This is beyond anything he could have ever hoped for and really, to go one day without Nikki in his life to having a date with him the next day was far faster than most people would have moved were they in his situation so he should be satisfied. He should be okay with letting Nikki leave and then going to bed by himself. That’s healthy.

Tommy is moving before he even thinks about it, “Nikki.”

The alpha turns around just in time for Tommy to wrap his arms around his neck and press their lips together and the absolute sigh of relief that Nikki lets out makes Tommy melt, releasing his own desperate little noise when Nikki’s hands find their way to his hips automatically.

They part gently, arms still around each other tightly as they stare with half lidded eyes.

“Tommy…” Nikki groans, obviously still fighting with himself about giving Tommy more time.

The omega just nudges his nose against Nikki’s cheek softly, breathing in his scent, “Stay Nikki. I want you to stay.”

Nikki nudges Tommy’s cheek back before reconnecting their lips in a brief, sweet kiss. They part again and Nikki exhales loudly, “God, Tommy.”

Tommy feels delirious when Nikki surges forward to press him against the door, lips pressing harshly against his in desperation and Tommy feels more alive than he has all year.

Nikki groans at the absolute plushness of the omega’s lips, the feeling better than he could have ever imagined after an entire year apart. He pushes harder against Tommy’s lips, dragging his hands down his sides to grip at his waist and hold him as close as possible. When Tommy gasps he can feel it and Nikki can’t help himself from running his tongue over the omega’s full bottom lip, angling his head so he can lick into the drummer’s mouth.

Nikki feels his body burning, igniting all the more at the way Tommy whines into the kiss, the way his hands reach up again to tangle in his hair, until he feels drunk off the feeling, no whiskey needed, breaking the contact of their lips to trail kisses and nips along the omega’s jaw and down his neck, firmly licking at the scent gland just underneath his ear. The moan Tommy lets out is so loud and unexpectedly high pitched, but he couldn’t have held it in for anything. Nikki is here with him, he’s touching him just the way he loves and Tommy wants this, wants it so badly and that only becomes more true when Nikki growls his approval as a wave of arousal crashes through him.

He smells so sweet, so fresh, Nikki can’t get enough as he keeps licking and nipping at the gland until he starts to smell the heat of arousal thick around Tommy’s usual honey orange scent and that, that just sets him off even more.

His hands run firmly over Tommy’s hips until they come to a stop on his ass, squeezing both cheeks and the omega keens and pushes his hips up into Nikki’s, the alpha answering with an automatic roll of his own before he grips the backs of Tommy’s perfect fucking thighs, thankful for the natural strength that comes from being an alpha as he lifts him easily to wrap those sinfully long legs around his waist, hips pinning the drummer’s to the door.

The move surprises Tommy, body heating up even more at how effortlessly Nikki lifted him, thighs trembling around the bassist’s hips as he feels himself slicking up, getting wet because of the man he loves in between his legs. It’s straight out of a dream but so much better because it’s real and Tommy uses the grip he has on Nikki’s hair to tilt his face back up and kisses him desperately.

Nikki is sharply inhaling through his nose suddenly and he pulls back from the kiss to stare sharply into Tommy’s eyes, his own pale greens dark and wild and it makes Tommy whine to see him that way again. But the alpha shakes his head, rests his forehead against the drummer’s again.

“Is this too fast babe? Do I need to slow down because shit, I can fucking smell how wet you are and if we don’t stop now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to. Tell me, tell me what you want baby.” His voice is pitched so low and his cock throbs when he smells the slick Tommy is producing, struggling to keep his hips still as he flexes his hands around the omega’s thighs.

Tommy is shaking his head, hands carding through Nikki’s long black hair and pulling him back a little to look him in the face, “Don’t stop, Nikki, alpha, don’t stop please.”

Nikki groans, hips rocking forward against Tommy’s, grinding against him deliciously as his hands move back to grip the omega’s ass to hold him up more firmly.

“Don’t fucking stop,” Tommy is saying again, dragging his lips down Nikki’s neck, whimpering at the friction between his legs and the heavy forest rain scent that blossoms on his tongue when he licks over the alpha’s scent gland, giddy at the choked moan he gets as a reward. “It’s not, ah, it’s not too fast, it’s perfect. It’s right, it’s, fucking finally Sixx.”

Nikki feels his lips pull into a smile, “Fucking finally.”

Then he pulls Tommy against him roughly with the grip he has on his ass, making sure he has him secure in his arms before he pulls them away from the door.

Tommy’s legs tighten around his hips, arms around his shoulders, and the needy noise he makes in his throat is intoxicating.

“Don’t worry baby, I won’t drop you.” Nikki teases, thinking Tommy’s gasp and tight grip are from the fear of falling. He keeps them upright as Tommy hides his face in his neck, the omega’s hands moving from his shoulders to feel where the muscles are tight and flexed in his arms.

“I know you won’t, you’re so strong, my alpha.” Tommy calls him so breathlessly, it has Nikki walking back to press him up against the wall next to the door, surging forward to devour the youngers lips in a rough kiss, running his tongue over every surface in Tommy’s mouth. His hands drag along the omega’s legs wrapped around him, up and down his waist, everywhere.

“Tommy, Tommy, fuck, I know baby. I know exactly how you like it.” Nikki thrills, biting at the base of Tommy’s neck in an instinctive bout of possession. “You like that I can carry you around, like that I can move you, shape you however I want. I could hold you up and fuck you right here baby, and you’d fucking love it, wouldn’t you.”

Tommy keens, body burning, absolutely on fire. God, he loved this, always loved how Nikki would talk, Tommy can’t believe that he had forgotten this, but he can’t say those things and expect Tommy to be able to actually answer coherently.

“Come on baby, I want to hear you say it, need to hear what you want,” Nikki whispers lowly in his ear, one hand coming up to grip Tommy’s chin to force him to look at him. Nikki’s breath rushes out of him when he sees the omega’s face, the blush staining his cheeks, curly hair messy, big brown eyes dilated and lips kiss swollen. “Need you to tell me everything you like babe, want to hear everything, want to make it so good for you.”

Tommy moans when Nikki’s hips start moving again, the alpha staring into his eyes expectantly, and really, Nikki did such a wonderful job communicating tonight, so good at starting to bring them back together like they should be, he could do this now for the other man if it means that much.

So he nods, hands clenching on Nikki’s shoulders and nosing at his neck, “I like it Nikki, it’s so good, makes me feel so good, want more baby.”

“Fuck. I’ll give it to you babe, give you anything you want, always.” Nikki pulls him away from the wall and walks him through the kitchen and into the hallway before he stops, “Where do you want me babe? You’re bed, the wall, the floor, god wherever you want, I’m there.”

Tommy laughs at the question, Nikki grinning at the sound. But Tommy quiets after a few seconds and bites his lip, eyes hooded, small smirk growing along with some of his confidence. Nikki isn’t the only one who can tease.

The omega pulls lightly on the long black strands at the base of Nikki’s hairline, reveling in the groan the alpha lets out, the way his hands tighten on his ass, “My bed baby, want you to take me in my bed, want you to get your scent all over it and me, please, alpha.”

Nikki breaths in sharply, heat punching through his gut and he starts down the hall, kicking the door open that Tommy points to, “Don’t fucking push me Tommy. I’m struggling to control myself as it is.”

“Don’t,” Tommy gasps as Nikki drops him down onto the bed before kneeling between the omega’s spread legs. Nikki stops at the word, hands kneading into the younger boy’s thighs, but not moving down and Tommy realizes that he didn’t finish his sentence. He had gotten overwhelmed by the alpha’s scent surrounding him and the notion of having Nikki in his bed like this.

“Don’t control yourself Nik, I want it, I want you so bad, can fucking handle anything you give me.” Tommy reaches up and uses a hand on Nikki’s neck to pull himself up, arching his back to peck the alpha on the lips, “I can handle you, baby.”

Nikki’s growl comes from deep in his chest as he reaches out and pulls the black tee shirt off of Tommy swiftly before pushing him back down. Tommy’s a fucking perfect omega, so fucking beautiful just like Nikki remember, long slender limbs, flat stomach, small waist. Nikki eyes the small swell of his hips through the fishnet with hunger, hands yanking his own tank top over his head and throwing it off to the side before sinking down into the omega’s arms and attaching his mouth to Tommy’s collarbones, biting harshly to hear him yelp and then soothing the mark with soft licks, moving on to suck bruises into the line of his throat. His hands smooth up the soft skin of his sides until he gets to his chest, both thumbs rubbing at his nipples.

Tommy whines, long and needy as Nikki continues the assault on his chest, fingers pinching and pulling as he sits back to watch the omega squirm, “Fuck, yeah, you can handle me. I know you can babe, I remember, you’re going to be so good for me, already making me so fucking hard sweetheart.”

Nikki abandons one of his nipples to grab a hand that Tommy has thrown over his head, bringing it down and putting it on the bulge of his cock and even through the material of his jeans, the touch is heavenly.

“Feel that babe? That’s for you, you’re making your alpha so fucking hard because you’re so goddamn hot. Want you more than anything baby.”

Tommy can’t do much at this point but moan helplessly at the words, his hand rubs at Nikki’s cock through his jeans and the omega’s mouth waters because it’s so hard and feels so big in his hand, just like it always did.

“Shit, T.” Nikki groans, ducking back down to kiss him roughly, fast, before moving down to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently and flicking his tongue against it, loving the way Tommy arches it further into his mouth, hands attaching to Nikki’s hair, pulling lightly and whimpering so pretty for him.

Nikki continues to kiss his way down, sucks a bruise or two into his ribs and then busies himself with making hickies across his hips as he unbuttons and unzips the tight black jean still keeping him from seeing all of the drummer.

“Nikki, mmm, feels so good, come here, please, fuckin’ want to kiss you.” And really, Nikki doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to deny his drummer anything ever again, so he moves back up Tommy’s body and kisses him deep.

The alpha feels Tommy’s hands caressing down his chest and abs, fingers tracing the indents of the lean muscle, making him groan until the omega finally reaches his jeans, undoing his own button and opening the zipper, both struggling to push each other’s pants down while still staying connected in their kiss.

Eventually they break apart in giggles when it of course doesn’t work, then Nikki kisses Tommy quickly once more before moving off him and the bed and hurriedly removing his jeans and underwear in one smooth movement. He groans at the relief of his cock being free from the tightness of his pants and when he looks up Tommy is staring at him with so much desire in his eyes, tongue coming out to wet his lips, and Nikki knows that look. He remembers that look so fucking well, it has him letting out a heated moan.

He gets back on the bed quickly and pushes Tommy down where the boy was attempting to get up with a firm hand on his chest.

“Now, now babe,” Nikki says as Tommy whines at being pushed back down, “As much as I am dying to see those pretty lips around my cock, I really don’t think I’ll last as long as I want inside of you if you do that first.”

Tommy pouts and it makes Nikki huff out a laugh in surprise, “You can blow me after baby, promise. Right now I just need to get inside of you before I go crazy.”

The omega moans and nods in acceptance, “Okay, okay Nik, just please, hurry.”

Nikki’s hands drop back down to Tommy’s hips, pushing down below the material of his pants and peeling them off slowly, eyes never leaving the omega’s until they’re completely off. Nikki’s heart pounds as his eyes run over every inch of the younger boy below him, moving to settle on his haunches so he can look at all of him. He’s so pretty, so goddamn pretty. His cock is long and thin, curving up along his pelvis, long legs smooth and slender and covered in those goddamn fishnets that drive him crazy to look at. Nikki pushes the stockings down his legs mournfully, sad to see them go but his mouth waters when he sees Tommy’s thighs glistening with slick. With his pants removed, the sweet smell of it is even stronger and Nikki feels desperation move him to grab Tommy’s ankles and drag him further down the bed so Nikki can run his hands down his legs, wrap them around the underside of his thighs and push them back towards the omega’s chest.

Tommy moans loudly at the rough action, feeling another wave of slick gush out of him at the manhandling and shivering at Nikki’s answering growl when the alpha sees it where he’s staring at him with those intense green eyes.

Tommy is fucking gorgeous ivory skin everywhere and Nikki could come just from looking at him for too long.

He has plans for now though, and as much as he wants to dive at the omega’s entrance immediately, Tommy’s thighs are driving him wild. Bending down from where he’s holding him up and open, Nikki groans when he sinks his teeth into the flesh of the inside of Tommy’s right thigh, making the boy underneath him cry out in surprise.

Tommy’s hands attach themselves to his hair again and when Nikki looks up, the omega is looking down at him, lips open and panting, expression absolutely wrecked as he whimpers when Nikki grinds his teeth into the flesh of his thigh. Nikki feels a little crazy, but he can’t stop licking and sucking at the soft skin, the taste of his slick sweet on his tongue and tempting him to move closer to the source but it’s not until Tommy begs him, strings of ‘Nik, please’ and ‘more, Nikki, god I need more’, does he move his hands to his ass, spreading him apart and giving a firm lick right over his hole.

“You’re so fucking pretty down here Tommy, so smooth and gorgeous for me babe, gonna eat you out so good.”

The broken whimper he gets is addicting and Nikki wants to hear it again, so he moves up a bit, lets Tommy’s legs fall onto his shoulders, hands groping at the firm cheeks in his palms, and presses his face in deep, tongue licking over his hole gently, gliding through his slick over and over until he firms his tongue up and feels Tommy opening up for it and drives it inside as deep as he can.

Tommy is floating, distantly he can hear himself making these embarrassing high pitched gasps with every thrust of Nikki’s tongue, arching his back and using the grip he has on the alpha’s hair to keep him in place as if the other boy had any notion of moving, but he can’t think about anything other than the pleasure he’s in. Tommy feels the pressure building in his lower stomach, heat getting too intense and his cock twitching as pre-come drips from the tip.

“Nn-Nikki, please, unnn, you have to stop, I’m gonna, ah, gonna come if you don’t s-stop.” Tommy moans and his toes curl when Nikki’s tongue rubs against the walls of his entrance.

Nikki pulls back just a little, enough for Tommy to see his lips, his nose and chin wet with his slick, his eyes are impossibly dark, jaw sharp and Tommy’s thighs tremble at the arousal that moves through him at the sight.

The alpha grins darkly when he feels it, turning to place a small kiss on the biggest bite mark he left on his thigh, “Then come babe, fucking want you to come from my mouth, I’ll make you come again when I’m inside you, don’t you worry about that.”

And then he’s diving back down, lips closing around Tommy’s rim and sucking hard while one of his hands squeezes around the omega’s cock and Tommy feels his orgasm ripped from him, body shaking and belatedly realizing that he had screamed Nikki’s name.

The alpha licks him through it, not stopping even when Tommy whines as he starts getting hard again too fast and it’s sensitive and so good it hurts a little.

Nikki pulls off with one last kiss to the omega’s thigh and moves back so that Tommy’s hips fall back down to the bed, hitching his legs up to wrap around his waist again and resting his weight on his forearms on either side of Tommy’s head so he can kiss him, groaning when Tommy starts sucking at his tongue. He rubs his hips against Tommy’s ass where it’s still tilted up a bit, cock getting wet from the slick the younger boy is still producing, the head catching on Tommy’s rim a few times.

“Nik, Nikki, need you inside me now, please, no more teasing, I’m so wet for you, ready for you, need you to fuck me, been waiting so long for it, please alpha, please.” Tommy babbles, desperate for the older boy to just slide into him already, tilting his hips up to try to get him inside.

Nikki lets out a harsh breath, “Baby, fuck, babe wait, need to get a condom.”

Tommy makes a plaintive whine in his throat before pushing at Nikki’s shoulders, the unexpected movement catching Nikki off guard so he’s easy for Tommy to push down onto his back and straddle him.

The alpha grunts when he feels Tommy reach a hand back and grab his cock, his hands flying up to hold the omega’s hips when the drummer rubs him against his entrance andTommy whimpers at the awestruck look on Nikki’s face.

“I’m clean, I’m clean Nik and I know you are too and I’m on birth control. We don’t need a condom, want to feel you in me, please baby.” Tommy bites his lip, wanting to sink down onto Nikki’s cock, has been wanting it in him since Nikki took off his pants and he saw it, big and hard and as perfect as Tommy remembered.

Nikki groans, shooting to sit up straight, mouth meeting Tommy’s in an open kiss, arms wrapping around his waist and hips and pulling him down so he sinks onto the alpha’s cock below him. Tommy feels his heart swelling as they finally start connecting in the most intimate way.

Nikki grits his teeth as inch by inch his cock disappears into Tommy’s warmth, he feels heady, light headed and Tommy is panting by the time he’s fully seated. Tommy can see the tears clinging to Nikki’s lash line as they sit still for a minute, body’s getting used to the sensation of being connected again. Nikki needs to distract himself from the surge of emotions flooding through him so he grips Tommy’s ass roughly, and talks.

“Fuck babe, fucking hell baby, you feel so good around me. Took my cock so well babe, so tight and wet, beyond my dreams, can’t wait to fuck you, can you move now sweetheart? Wanna see you fuck yourself on my cock.” Tommy’s body is a live wire listening to his alpha whispering filth in his ears and his hips start rocking without him even thinking about it when Nikki asks him to move.

He’s gentle at first, just a soft rocking motion but before he knows it he’s bouncing himself onto Nikki’s cock, hips grinding when he sinks all the way down, his alpha gripping his hips, fingers sinking into the flesh and groaning into his ear.

It feels so good, so good beyond anything Tommy has ever felt in the past year and his mind jumps back to earlier when Nikki had asked him to let him know what he liked and so he starts to tell him.

“Nngh, Nikki, oh, so good, your cock is so good, baby, I want it, want it more, want more, don’t hold back.”

Nikki snarls in his ear, throwing Tommy down against the mattress, arms over his head, before hitching his legs around his waist and sinking his cock back into his entrance. The wet sound makes Tommy squirm because he’s dripping, he doesn’t think his body has ever produced so much slick outside of a heat before. Nikki sets a brutal pace, thrusting into Tommy with smooth thrusts that end with a snap that have him moaning every time his cock punches into him.

The alpha gives his own deep, long moan when he feels Tommy purposely tightening around him, teasing him and Nikki smacks his ass once in warning.

“Be good babe, be good for me. I don’t want to have to punish you.” Nikki smirks when Tommy flushes further, gasping when Nikki sits up and grips his hips hard enough to bruise, tilting them up to change the angle and nailing his prostrate on every other thrust. Tommy’s hands latch onto his shoulders, dragging him back down so they can slip to claw at his back, rolling his hips up to meet Nikki’s in a nasty grind that makes his legs shake.

Nikki is fucking hot above him, sleek with sweat, green eyes dark and narrowed in concentration, breathing harshly through open lips. Tommy can see his abs flexing every time he thrusts into him and he is winded by the thought that this beautiful man is in his arms again. The idea has him clawing into his back more harshly, giving his own dark grin through his panting when Nikki hisses at the sensation and looks at him heatedly.

Tommy arches his back so he can bite at Nikki’s neck, sinking his own teeth into the base where it meets his shoulder and then licking at the mark, moaning into the alpha’s ear, “Mine, my alpha, mine.”

Hearing the possession in the declaration snaps something in Nikki and Tommy licks his lips at the wild look in the alpha’s eyes before the older boy is pulling out, flipping him over, pulling up on his hips and growling out a “chest down” that has Tommy automatically complying, screaming when Nikki pounds back into him from behind.

Nikki has a bruising grip on his hips and he’s forcibly moving his ass to bounce back on his cock with every thrust forward and Tommy has never been fucked this good before. He feels dumb with pleasure, crying out because Nikki is hitting him just right every single time and he’s in total control of how Tommy moves and it’s so good, he’s crying.

“You’re so fucking hot babe, and all mine. Missed you so fucking much baby. I’m yours, your alpha, but you’re my fucking omega, my baby, mine.” Nikki’s voice is all base now, gritty and he growls at how fucking good Tommy looks below him. The drummer’s long slender back is bowed, chest to the bed just like he asked, skin glistening with sweat and face contorted in pleasure. He keeps making these ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ that are driving Nikki out of his mind, moans making Nikki’s cock twitch where he’s buried inside of him.

“You look so damn hot on my cock sweetheart, never seen anything so fucking beautiful, sound so good, do you feel good baby? Tell me how good you feel taking my cock.” Nikki lifts his hips up further and Tommy screams again.

“I- ahhh, nnngh Nn-nikki, ff-fuck, ahh I can’t, mmm…” Nikki smirks at the other boy, slowing his thrusts down until he’s just grinding his cock lightly into Tommy’s prostrate, making him shiver and whimper.

“Sorry baby, I was making it hard for you to answer me, go ahead now babe, tell me how good I’m making you feel, please, need to hear it baby.” Nikki whispers in his ear, leaning over to drape across his back, pushing his cock impossibly deeper into the omega beneath him.

Tommy whines, trying to push his ass back and fuck himself on Nikki’s cock, squeezing around him unconsciously to try to entice him into thrusting again, but all he gets for his effort is a smack to his ass that has him jolting.

“Please Nikki, please don’t stop, keep fucking me, it’s so good, the best, fucking me better than anyone else could alpha, I’m so close, gonna come again for you, plea- ahhhh!”

Tommy screams again when Nikki abruptly starts fucking him even harder than before, snapping his hips so hard Tommy is pushed up the mattress until he puts his hands against the headboard, making it bang against the wall harshly with every thrust.

Nikki leans forward and licks at the back of Tommy’s neck, feels the omega squeeze tightly around him, feels his body shake.

“I love you Tommy, fucking love you so much baby, come on, come for me again. Want to feel you come on my dick.”

And then Nikki bites down, right underneath Tommy’s scent gland and Tommy moans his name so loudly as he comes, hole contracting around his cock, Nikki couldn’t hold off his own orgasm if he tried, groaning lowly as his come flows into the omega and the brief instinctual flash of an idea bursts into his mind, of breeding Tommy, of seeing him swollen with his pups growing inside of him and his heart jolts and he’s dropping kisses along every inch of skin he can reach, pulling out of the younger boy slowly.

Tommy turns around onto his back and Nikki’s hands come up to cradle his jaw, peppering his face and neck with kisses, whispering under his breath, “Love you baby, I love you so much Tommy, can’t even fucking believe this is real, you did so good, so good babe, absolutely unreal. You’re fucking amazing.”

Tommy’s tired arms come up around his back, meeting Nikki’s mouth suddenly to kiss him, once, twice, again and again.

“I love you Nikki,” Tommy says, rubbing his nose against Nikki’s cheek, eyes a bit teary from the intense pleasure of their fucking and from how loved he feels with Nikki whispering endless praise and confessions of love. “Love you so fucking much, my alpha, missed you so much.”

Nikki settles onto his back and pulls Tommy to him with an arm around his waist. Tommy nuzzles his faces into Nikki’s chest, yawning but smiling right after when he feels Nikki burying his nose in his hair and inhaling.

Tommy’s eyes are falling shut against his will, still fighting against the pull of sleep until Nikki presses a kiss against his forehead, “Sleep baby.”

~April 12th, 2018~

Tommy slowly comes into consciousness with the feeling of arms wrapped around his waist and kisses being pressed into his neck from behind. He smiles, can’t help himself when his lover is touching him like this.

“You need to be careful there Sixx, I might start expecting this kind of treatment all the time.”

Nikki pauses his kisses for a short moment and Tommy feels his lips pull into a smile of his own against his skin.

“I’ll do this every day for the rest of our lives as long as you want me Tommy.”

~May 16th, 2019~

When he wakes up, Nikki is still asleep next to him. Tommy hadn’t pulled the blinds shut the night before and the sun is filtering into the windows and making Nikki’s tan skin glow. He’s so busy looking at the man that he doesn’t even notice that Nikki is awake and staring right back at him.

“Good morning baby.”

Tommy startles a little before blushing at the soft, loving look in Nikki’s eyes. He shifts onto his side so that he’s facing the alpha, “Hi.”

Nikki smiles and moves onto his own side to mirror Tommy, hand coming up to tangle gently into his curls, “Hi.”

“So that was, beyond fucking incredible.” Tommy says it quietly, enjoying the stillness of the moment.

Nikki nods emphatically but he’s sobering up quickly, “Are you okay though, I didn’t come here with that as my intention Tommy, I really want to do this right, I need to get this right.”

Tommy arches his back to press a soft kiss to Nikki’s lips, staying close when he pulls away, “I’m perfect Nikki. Screw how anyone else would handle this, that was us baby.”

Nikki’s smile spreads back onto his face and he presses their foreheads together with a happy little sigh,  “Yeah.”

He’s about to say more but Tommy’s stomach gives a loud growl and they laugh at the interruption.

Nikki grins, “You want to add a breakfast date to today’s agenda too?”

“Only if you take me to that diner where we met.”

Tommy knows they still have a lot to talk about. They have healing to do, both individually and together. He needs to apologize, he had been the one to run off after all and even if he had a good reason, he was serious when he told Nikki that he was responsible for their split as well. He needs to apologize to Mick and Vince for having left them like that and not even being strong enough to talk to them about it.

They need to catch up on everything that had happened over the past year, but Nikki gives him an excited laugh in response to his request, practically pulling him off the bed with him to get ready to go and says, “Anything for you baby.”

And Tommy knows that they’ll get to all of that. For now though, for now, he’s fully alive with Nikki. Just like they were always meant to be.