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[notmepromptmonth]

celebrate

...

It isn’t the same artist who did White the last time – Todd found that one, and White can’t imagine anyone who’s willing to tattoo off a photo of a clearly unconscious man with no questions asked is likely to be particularly ethically-minded, which is important to him now, so he’s found a new one for this.

She definitely recognises them when they come in, eyes going wide in that way that says I’m about to be cool about this but holy shit. They’re recognisable in alternative scenes, now, but it’s still weird when White thinks too hard.

“I- So,” she starts, before shaking her head as if to clear it, “To be clear, I don’t recommend getting couple tattoos, not to anyone. You’re not really supposed to get tattoos for a specific person unless they’re like, your kid, your parent, that type of thing. But I’ll do them, it’s just like, a disclaimer, okay?”

They nod obediently.

“But holy shit, in the message you said this was a wedding tattoo, like to celebrate your wedding, I can’t believe two of ROL are married, I’m extremely not cool about this, sorry-“

White snorts.

As she’s working on the design, a pigeon and a peacock twined together, she asks, “Is there a story about the birds?”

He glances at the button on his wrist, is about to explain, when Sean jumps in with, “Let me tell you how we met-“

“-You will fucking not,” White interrupts.

“I will fucking not,” Sean corrects himself, “Sorry, no story, we just like birds.”

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BAM! Now it's the 28th of july, prompt: spicy | heartbeats. Which obviously means that White gets a nipple piercing.

[notmepromptmonth]

gang - freedom

...

“Kind of thought you’d have more exciting plans than this,” notes Namo.

Yok turns around, confused, and says, “What’s not exciting?”

They’ve got drinks, they’ve got music, they’ve got paint for the garage walls – White, for some reason, has a Twister mat that he’s trying to convince the rest of them onto. It’s a whole party.

“We’re in your place of work, dude.”

That’s true, but, “It’s also our place of planning-and-occasionally-committing crimes, though.”

Gram wanders over, shirtless.

“See,” Yok points out, “Exciting!”

When he looks up, Gram’s covering his nipples suspiciously – “What?” he asks Namo.

She laughs.

Gram’s arms tighten over his own chest, like he thinks she’s laughing at his chest, and that just makes Yok join in with the laughing until Gram whines.

They’ve attracted Black’s attention by the time Namo gets herself together enough to say, “All I mean is that you guys are celebrating your freedom, they’ve officially let you all go, shouldn’t it be more of… you know, a party?”

“This is a party,” says Black in a perfectly neutral voice, which just sets Yok off again.

He’s right, though – over at the Twister mats, White and Eugene seem to be competing. That’s a sight that makes it a party  by default, right?

Oh, Yok won’t say that out loud.

Getting murdered by Sean and Black and possibly even Gram is not on Gumpa’s list of party-approved activities, he doesn’t want to upset Gumpa. But he can look.

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SURPRISE GUYS you travelled back in time to the 24th of july 2022! Because I just posted my namogene fic for prompt month, and obviously I wouldn't do that a week late!

[notmepromptmonth]

GramBlackEugene at the club, and Gene dressed up her boys all fun and sexy :)

Not Me Prompt Month Day 27: OT3

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parents - here

...

She nearly slept through her baby’s murder.

It’s not the way he wants her to think of it, her sweet and helpful son, he can’t stop apologising for it, saying he should have thought of what he was putting her through, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? Yok could have been killed by that bullet or another, he could have died on the first operating table or the second, the one that came after the-

The-

The people who took him were going to kill him.

And she was asleep the whole night, and she feels sick with it – she should have known. It’s something they say, isn’t it, that a mother feels the moment she loses her child, so maybe she would have awoken in the middle of the night with a sinking feeling and a certainty, but she’s pretty sure it would have gone the same as last night did, sleeping until morning, until she checked her phone and saw frantic messages from half-a-dozen acquaintances, and at least in this world they were all checking up on her still-alive baby, but she knows it could have gone differently.

He's the one sleeping, now, and she smooths the wrinkles from his forehead as he squirms in his sleep – he did when he was really a baby, too, he was a horribly active sleeper, she had to pad more things than she’d realised she had. Back then the squirming was happier.

A sudden shake and his eyes shoot open in the dim light, and she sees his mouth move but he still looks sleep-confused, so she just strokes his forehead until they close again.

Mae’s here, baby, she thinks but doesn’t sign – she’d have to stop stroking his head to do that.

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spicy - heartbeat

...

The air is thick, it being a hot summer’s day, but the fan in the corner is doing its best to combat that – and they’re doing their best to defeat the fan.

Nuch is like, ninety percent sure this is rebound sex for Eugene, and never mind the Gram thing, because she’s certain it’s Black that she’s still hung up on, so this is a bad idea, she knows this is a bad idea. But…

Well, Eugene is straddling Nuch’s lap and pulling her bra over her head, throwing it somewhere out of sight, and Nuch is fully clothed and under her so she feels really fucking warm.

With a coy expression that could maybe have worked with the bra still on, but – Nuch glances down, sees Eugene's (spectacular, amazing, holy shit) tits and feels her face burn – now, not so much, Eugene leans forward, forward, into her face and a hand creeping into her waistband as she says, “Aren’t you feeling warm?”

Nuch’s heartbeat is going about as fast as the fan is spinning, fucking hell – just as she has the thought, the fan finally sputters and dies.

That might be her fate, too, before the day is up.

[notmepromptmonth]

ot3 - trust

...

“I’m not doing that, I’ll get fucking hurt, he’s like five foot three-“

“-Yok! I’m five foot six! And I caught Sean, he’s heavy-“

“-Don’t be a pussy, babe-“

“-Sean don’t call him names-“

“-I’m just not doing it, guys,” Yok exclaims over the other two, still bickering.

As one, they turn frowns on him – Sean’s annoyed, White’s quietly disappointed, and he starts to think maybe it would be okay-

He has to stay strong.

The trust fall thing off the bed was kind of cute, sure, he liked that – catching White is easy, because again, White’s tiny. He should have asked more questions when Sean started talking about “taking Yok to the warehouse to do the rest of it”, but he can put his foot down now.

While he’s making that decision, the other two have been in a semi-verbal conference, and now they turn back to him.

“So I guess you don’t want to do the one where he catches you after a two-meter jump?” Sean asks with a smirk.

Yok looks between his boyfriends – White’s face is deadly serious and expectant, Sean’s cocky, but neither of them looks like they’re about to break into laughter and reveal the prank – and he realises, “There’s something wrong with you both. What have I gotten into?”

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namonuch - voice

...

Namo slides the cup casually under Nuch’s nose, between her face and her notes.

“This one’s legit, I promise,” she wheedles.

Nuch raises a – prewritten, she’s such a bitch – note that says, I do not intend to consume any more of your “legit” creations. It’s with a completely deadpan face, but Namo can see the amusement she’s trying to hide. Okay, maybe the note is fair, but having it ready is rude, right?

Who’s she kidding, Namo loves her.

With a laugh, she gives in and says, “This one’s just lemon and ginger, perfect for preserving your voice. C’mon, babe, you know I wouldn’t fuck with you over this the day before court.”

The still-disbelieving expression is… maybe fair. Namo likes to be artistic in all she does, and that includes the drinks she makes. Some people have been known to call her preferred flavour combinations “abominations” or “evil” – Nuch tends to be more subtle, but she agreed with Gram when he said it.

She watches as Nuch picks the tea up, sniffs it, and cautiously takes a sip.

Then holds up another note, one she had to rummage for a little: Thanks babe.

“Didn’t have that one by your hand? Rude.”

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nuchgene - move

...

Nuch doesn’t like crowded places that much.

“Gene, I’m not sure…” she trails off.

The reason she trails off is the perfectly calibrated pout, aimed right at her face – it’s dazzling, it’s heartbreaking, it’s very, very Eugene. It annoys her.

So she lies, “You know that doesn’t work on me.”

“But you’re coming in anyway, right?” Gene smiles, grabbing her arm and leaning half-against it as she says, “Right, na?”

Fuck.

Thirty minutes later, they’re walking towards the line for the nightclub Gene wants to check out – five minutes after that, they’re getting waved in ahead of the line, clearly because of Gene, but Gene’s grabbing her arm again and dragging her through.

“Remember,” is the last thing Gene tells her before it’s too loud to talk, “You can’t just stand in the middle of the dance floor looking nervous – you have to actually move!”

“You do that, I’ll stay at the bar.”

“Nuuuuuuuch.”

“Geeeeeeeeeeeene.”

In a war of pouts, Eugene always wins – Nuch has to break off laughing after a few seconds, and then they’re inside.

[notmepromptmonth]

namogene - muse

...

It’s hard to call any of Namo’s pieces “private” – she does them in public places, it’s kind of her whole thing.

But there are levels to what’s public and what’s private, and the abandoned warehouses, disused rail tunnels, back walls of lots that have been left to rot, they’re where she puts her more personal pieces. The angry shit, the embarrassing shit, all the Sean shit, Namo lets hardly anyone see any of it.

She normally doesn’t go back to look at those, either.

There’s one, though, in an unlikely back corner of a parking lot that is, actually, still in use, it’s just not used at full capacity so the floor she painted is rarely used and even more rarely monitored, and she finds herself going back to it from time to time.

If anyone saw it, they’d have no idea what it was supposed to represent – even if her muse saw it, she’d have no idea. The winding lines are of a dance that was burned into her head once, a dance she can ever unsee.

Eugene doesn’t even know she was there; she definitely doesn’t know she painted it.

It’s Namo’s secret.

[notmepromptmonth]

todd & black ; now we’re aiming arrows at each other

Not Me Prompt Month ; Day 15: ToddBlack | Bruise

[notmepromptmonth]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: เขา…ไม่ใช่ผม | Not Me (TV 2021) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sean/White (Not Me TV 2021), Black/Gram (Not Me TV 2021) Characters: White (Not Me TV 2021), Sean (Not Me TV 2021), Black (Not Me TV 2021), Gram (Not Me TV 2021), Nuch (Not Me TV 2021) Additional Tags: Not Me Prompt Month, POV Outsider, but only kind of Summary:

“Nuch says Gram’s avoiding her now, too,” White says without looking up from his phone.

Sean shifts beside him on the bed. “I thought Gram got his head out of his ass.”

“No, he and Black are still being weird when they’re not arguing over class.”

Or: White accidentally stumbles into Gram and Black working things out. Kind of.

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friendships - bicker and affection

...

“It won’t work-“

“-Bullshit, you’re just saying that ‘cause you don’t want to do it-“

“-The garage is too fucking tall! And hell yeah I’m afraid, we don’t have crash mats-“

Is the argument the twins walk into. Carefully, White looks over at Black – does he know what’s going on? – the look he gets back says that’s a no, so another silent exchange determines that figuring it out is Black’s job.

With a grimace, Black wanders over, smacks Gram – lightly, affectionately – on the back of the head, and says, “Sup dumbasses, what’s the issue?”

Not quite how White would have asked it, but it’s what he’d have meant.

Gram pouts at Black and says, “They’re arguing about whether we could get that paper aeroplane down from the ceiling if we did a human pyramid.”

White watches as Black tilts his head back and visibly counts down from ten.

Before the violence can start, White climbs over the back of the chair Sean’s on and announces, “Sean’s right, the roof’s too tall unless you wanted to get some more people involved.”

“Thank you, White-“

“-I could tweet from the account, see who turns up-“

“White!”

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chaos team: gram&yok - play

...

“I don’t get why hia’s making us practice this, it’s so easy,” will probably be Yok’s last words, one day, but this time he’s just complaining about Molotov cocktail target practice to Gram.

With a grunt and a thrown bottle, Gram says, “I think it’s ‘cause we didn’t make as many throws as the others.”

“I know that,” Yok throws his own, hitting the centre of the hula-hoop that’s his own target, lying on the ground a few yards away, “But it’s not like we missed loads – it’s just that those two got all of them.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s not fair.”

They have to wait a few minutes after each success because they don’t want to accidentally let a fire spread – this is an abandoned parking lot, there’s nothing flammable around, but never say never when it comes to fires! So that gives Yok a little time to look around, and that’s when he spots it.

“Man,” he grabs Gram’s arm and points, “I bet we could get up onto that ledge.”

Gram looks kind of confused and kind of alarmed.

“Why?”

“If we make the shot from up there we’ll have done better than the other two-“

“-Oh! Yeah, let’s do it.”

…

Gumpa puts down the fire extinguisher and raises an eyebrow.

“I left you guys here to train, not to play,” he reminds them.

Gram, indignant, says, “We were training!”

“-We were at least doing both,” is Yok’s more reasonable defense.

His two headaches are only mildly singed, so he lets it go. Mostly, anyway.

“You two have to clean up this mess.”

“Hia-“

“-There’s so much glass, do you want us to get hurt-“

“-Not fair, just because we weren’t as good as-“

[notmepromptmonth]

sean&black – twin

...

White opens his eyes and swiftly closes them against the burst of painfully-bright light, recognising it as sterile hospital lighting against white walls – but he doesn’t remember entering a hospital.

Groaning, he opens his eyes more slowly and winces again; his eyes adjust well enough to see two figures in chairs beside his bed, straightening up and leaning forward. When his eyes adjust better, he can’t help the smile.

Sean’s holding his hand, Black’s got a hand resting on his leg, and they’re wearing twin expressions of concern, eyes focused intently on his own.

“Hi,” he says, “Did something happen?”

They’ve been up against some pretty awful people, as always – there’s always the possibility that one of them could get seriously hurt. He’d hoped he’d remember anything like that going down, hoped he’d be able to roll with it nearly as well as Black, but he can’t remember anything after having lunch with an interview subject.

He watches as Sean and Black exchange a glance – Sean nervous, Black reserved and too-calm in the way that means he’s scared too.

Sean swallows and says, “Your appendix burst.”

Huh.

“Not on the list,” he says.

Sean frowns at him for that – he doesn’t like the way White puts space between himself and his pain, or any situation they’re in, but White can’t help that being how he deals with things, so he pouts back.

Black hisses and gets up, just as upset as Sean.

“Thought you’d been shot,” he mutters.

“I’m just glad you two are hanging out,” White says with a smile, then pauses. “Am I on pain medication?”

Black snorts and Sean laughs, again at the exact same time – White giggles too, but not at the same thing as them.

[notmepromptmonth]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39994044/chapters/101294163

BlackEugene/Paint