#AFTER THE BULB BEING A FRIDGE LIGHT BULB

[whoopseydaisy]

the time of shadows is when the book is closed u know i’m right

[be-good-to-bugs]

im literally soooo normal

[ellaa-writes]

The Beast Withiń

author note: Part 2. Part 1 here I rewrote this so many times. Some of them didn't end up saving but I like how this turned out. Not sure how long the series will be but going with the flow for now. Reminder this is an Alternative Universe to the cod franchise. Alpha König headcanon found here. masterlist

summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.

tags: a lot of angst in this one. brief mentions of death. Cocky König. König asking for consent (he's trying). Mention of psychical violence. Mention of rape but not to reader or by König. Slow burn, still no smut yet but I promise it is coming. World building, relationship establishing. König is a crime boss/war criminal. I think that's all, enjoy! :)

Konig squeezed himself on your small livingroom chair. His knees well above his hips, his arms clamped to his sides. If this were any other circumstance you would have laughed at the sight. But right now you were pissed, no not pissed furious. Your fist clenching and unclenching, your nails digging into your palms hard enough to draw blood. You stomped your foot and pointed at the giant in the too small of chair.

“How dare you!” you yelled at him.” You son of a bitch!” you continued to yell. König didn’t take well of you calling his Mütter a bitch, rest in piece her soul he thought. All he did was raise his shoulders and roll his neck. This chair wasn’t comfortable at all and he’ll be paying the price for it. You could tell he wasn’t taking you seriously. His dumb smug face and his eyes blinking at you with indifference. You wanted to smack him, no you were going to smack him. You walked right up to him, nearly eye level with the sitting giant. You raised your hand and swung it through the air. Waiting for the stinging impact but it never came, instead König own hand wrapped around your wrist. Squeezing just enough to feel the grind of bone on bone, just enough to leave a slight bruise that’ll be healed with in an hour. His fingers thick around your arm, he brought your hand to his mouth and gave it a small kiss. You yanked it back with disgust, turning away from him as he rose from the chair. His hips clicking a bit from the uncomfortable position. “Have you calmed down?” he asked. Brushing off your temper, your sweet scent had turned sour and he did not like it. But seeing you stomping around trying to act tough, he thought it was cute. It might even had turned him on if you hadn't tried to hit him.“You must be hungry” he proclaimed as he walked past you and into your small dingy kitchen. The light above the stove has burnt out the first week you moved in and you never bothered to replace it. It still buzzed every time you turned the switch on. König poked his head under the hood and yanked the bulb out, tossing it in your over flowing garbage bin. You scoffed at his response, yes what a smug asshole you thought. But you also became self conscious of how you apartment looked right now. Sure you haven’t cleaned up in a few days but you planned on doing a deep clean during your heat. Fuck, you almost forgot about your heat. It should be here in a few days, but now that you’ve been claimed and marked you didn’t know how that was going to play out. Still fumming, the only thing missing was the steam coming out of your ears.

König began rummaging through your cupboards, opening and closing the doors. Trying to find something he could feed you, giving up and moving to your fridge. He was shocked to find leftover take out containers and cheap premade food. Unhappy with his choices he gave up all together, bringing out his phone and typing away his orders. First he wants a car dropped off in front of your house, having ran to your apartment. He also ordered for plenty of food to be stocked at his place. Tons of fruit and vegetables and he couldn't forget protein. He knew your heat was only a day away, having smelt it at the night club. You were staring at him while he did all of this. “Get out.” you told him. He still completely ignoring you until he put his phone away. You still smelled sour, your anger hadn’t resided. “Are you not going to say anything?” you were going mad. “About what?” he finally spoke. Leaning against your counter, his arms crossed over his chest. His biceps and pectoral muscles bulging out from the tight long sleeve dress shirt he had on. This was the first time you actually got a good look at him. He had a scar running from his top lip up to his nostril, a childbirth defect he’s lived with his whole life. His hair was cut short, buzzed to the scalp a mixture of light blonde and grey hair. He was scruffy, sporting a five o’clock shadow the same coloring as his shaved head. His eyes were deep set, dark but bright at the same time. “Done checking me out omega?” he asked, his cocky attitude coming to the surface again. He smirked at you as a flush began rising from your chest and across your face. That’s it your going to slap that smug smirk off his face. Moving fast across the kitchen you reached up high, your hand connecting across König face. The loud crack and sting followed shortly after. Once again König grabbed you wrist in his bruising grip. Shoving you back against the opposite counter. He towered over you, completely trapping you in. “Get the hell out of my house.” you whispered. König's grip on you loosened a bit, but he still held you to his chest. Cradling you like a father would a wounded child. Running his hand through your hair, a low purr coming from his chest. The only time König ever purred was for his mother when she was sad. It’s been years since that moment, and honestly he didn’t believe he’d ever hear it again.

The adrenaline pumping through your body began to chip away, your shoulders sagged and your knees buckled but König held you in place. All the emotions running through your veins, you wanted to cry, scream and beat him bloody. But you couldn’t, you just wanted to be held. The dam holding back your tears finally broke and you began sobbing. Not caring that you are soaking the front of his shirt. Your new reality finally sinking in, the fear of what this Alphas intentions are. Your mother told you horror stories about groups of Alphas taking one female omega at a time. Raping her over and over again until she gave them enough pups to satisfy them. It scared you senseless as a child and still scares you now. You enjoyed the freedom you had, sure it wasn’t luxurious but it was yours none the less. “It’s ok omega, everything will be alright.” König tried to soothe your worries. Noticing the shift in your scent again, instead of the sourness from your anger it is now bitter, biting and snapping at him. “Stop calling me that.” you sobbed. Sniffling and wiping your nose on the back of your hand. You pulled away from the Alpha, suddenly feeling very vulnerable like you were a sheep waiting to be slaughtered. How could this have happened you thought while walking to your couch and throwing yourself down. Still only in the shirt König managed to put on you and the same panties from last night. Not caring if he sees anything, not like he didn’t before. You curled yourself into a ball, letting your emotions take control while you crawled back into your mind, into the darkest corner you could find. Everything you worked for, the years of masking your scent and blocking your hormones. Poof, gone in a second and the man responsible is now looking at you like a sad puppy.

You stayed in that position for what felt like hours but it was only a couple of minutes. König left you in your spot and went to your bedroom. Finding two small suitcases in your closet. Stuffing them with whatever he thought would be importance. His phone dinged, he went to the window facing the street. The car he ordered was parked neat in front of your apartment. He turned his focus back to your bedroom. He knew he couldn't fit everything in the car, not now anyways. And he wasn't sure if he even wanted most of this stuff at his place. His eyes lingered on your bed spread, you'd need something fimilar to nest with. Yanking them off and into a ball, König began moving stuff from your apartment to the car. You still hadn't moved an inch from your spot, only coming to when your tummy began protesting its hunger. Oh right, you were supposed to go grocery shopping today. To stock up on not only food but other supplies for your upcoming heat. You’ve always done it alone, as a child your mother would lock you in the basement. Lining the windows and doors with fresh lavender and honeysuckle, hoping the sweet scent of the herbs helped mask the scent of a female omega in heat. You heard König call your name, your real name and not omega. You crawled out from the dark corner of your mind, eyes focusing on the alpha that is now squatted in front of you on the couch. “Let me take care of you.” he wasn’t asking he was pleading. He can smell your hurt and see it in your eyes. This place wasn’t safe for you anymore, it never was. He got himself angry earlier thinking about another Alpha or let alone a lowly beta breaking into your apartment and having their way with you. He ignored the fact that he was the one that broke in, but he viewed himself has different. Not letting his cock and lust control him. But he won’t lie, he was very attracted to you. The moment his eyes locked onto your body moving through the crowd. It took him a second to single out your scent among the hundreds of bodies in that club. He was there on business, or he would never be in such a place. He hated crowed and loud spaces, his business partner knowing that chose the location out of spite. That’s why he’s now chopped up and fed to dogs, in his defense it wasn't the only reason. But there was something different about your scent, it was sweet like most females but there was something lingering underneath it. It burned his nostrils and filled his lungs, musky and heady. It was your incoming heat, he couldn’t believe it. An omega.

"I'm scared." you finally admitted. Hugging your arms around yourself, trying to comfort and self soothe. König didn't like any of it, not one bit. "You can trust me omega. I want to only love, cherish and worship you." now it was Königs turn to confess. As a child he dreamed about finding a mate, preferably an omega. To love her and take care of her. Someone to worship and kill for. And right now that someone was you. You took in his words, looking into his eyes. The burning flames swirling around the blue, the rich scent rolling off his body. It's not like you had a choice but you let yourself believe you chose this. You chose him. You nodded your head, which made König smile. It was a genuine smile and not that smug smirk from earlier. Up close he was attractive as hell, finally allowing yourself to feel something other than anger. He had to be at least 200cm tall, weighing as much as a brick house. Thick in all the right places, his shoulders wide and legs strong. "Can I carry you?" he asked. Hesitate to touch you right now, you were so fragile he was scared your crumble in his grip. You nodded your head again, too tired for words and still hungry. A cramp began forming deep in your lower stomach, causing you to gasp a little. It was coming to the surface, spreading out across your lower abdomen and down to your uterus. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Not now, please not now. You begged the holy mother that watched over her children. You felt the slick heat slowly making its way down to your panties. Finally becoming self conscious in what you were wearing in front of the Alpha. König was taken back, the sent of your slick filling the small space. His head began spinning and his heart nearly pounding out of his chest. The beast clamoring to get a taste. But he was in control, shoving the beast down and focusing on the present. Ignoring your sweet and heady scent, König carried you out of your apartment. A few people were up early enough, watching has a giant alpha emerged from the door. Bringing you to the car and setting you down in the back were he shoved your bedding as well. Closing the door behind you has you untwined your fluffy duvet and wrapped it around you body. Burying yourself in the warmth and softness of the materials. König sat in the driver seat, locking the doors and starting the car. Pulling away front he curb and towards his home and now your new home.

[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

Summery: Where Charlie ignores Vaggie's warning once again and falls into a disaster

Master list

CH- 2 : The golden book

*Back to the present*

You released the sheep on the kitchen floor as you went to your fridge. 'Wait, sheeps do eat lettuces right? I think they do..' you thought as you picked up some lettuces that you were saving for salad. You made sure to properly wash them before putting it on a bowl and giving it to the sheep. As for the moth, you cut a bit of orange that you had and put it on a small plate near the moth.

Charlie was looking around and trying to take all of your room in. She was suddenly painfully aware of how small she was and how big everything looked. For Vaggie it was worse. She was trying to take everything in too but the light bulb in the room was far too distracting. They told each other what they were while coming inside. Charlie was squealing in joy to learn she was a fluffy adorable little sheep, though a bit worried on how to turn back.

Vaggie on the other hand, was not happy to learn at all that she was a moth now. She was small and weak now and can't do anything to help herself or Charlie. Plus being a moth came with its disadvantages. Like right now.

'damn light bulb....'

With a click you put down the plate in front of the little sheep wondering around. The sheep started to eat it rather quickly and you chuckled looking at it.

You looked around to find the moth on the orange bits you put out. You decided it's time for you to eat and pass for the day. You were tired as hell from unpacking today. You can start working tomorrow.

You just warmed up some foods that were prepared beforehand. While washing your dishes you felt a poke at your leg. You looked down to see the little sheep staring up at you.

"Aww, has my little ewe finished eating? Don't worry dear, I'm giving you a spot to sleep soon." You said while walking over to pick up the bowl and plate." Just let me finish washing these real soon"

After cleaning them you quickly took out a big ass basket that you had in your room. You took out your stuff from there and placed a soft pillow there. You then picked up the sheep and put it there. And behold, it fit perfectly!

"Sleep here darling, it's comfy no?" You said while petting the ewe again and feeling it fluffy wool. 'thank you for doing these for us!' Charlie wanted to tell you but all she managed was a little Baa.

"I take that you like it then?" You said smiling. The moth from before suddenly flew over and sat on top of the sheep's wool.

"Hey look your little friend is here too. Sleep tight both of you" you said as you got up and went around the house making sure everything was locked properly since you've living alone now.

You moved to your own bed after finishing some small things you needed to do and prepared to sleep. As soon as you layed down, exhaustion quickly caught up to you leaving you knocked out soon. Charlie and Vaggie soon followed being exhausted by today's turn of events as well. You slept in peace knowing you made two small friends today.

However, that peace was broken when you woke up to loud barking the next morning.

(image not mine!!)

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Lost son of catbat au where Danny learns who his bio parents are and freaks out. Batman was notoriously observant and would find him out in a heartbeat. Not to mention if it came to a custody battle he would win against the Fentons easily, or worse, someone would get overshadowed and the situation could get messy.

Batman might also seek ways to control or contain him which was terrifying. He spent his entire life feeling like he was in a cage, trapped by his adoptive parents. He didn't have many friends because his parents would scare people off with thier high tech weapons and neon jumpsuits and the ones that did stay...well they did more than look down the barrel of the sci-fi guns they touted, even if they were only covered in goo, getting shot at must be a traumatic experience. The rest of the time he felt like he was trying to creep across landmines without setting them off.

No one wanted his parents undivided attention not even thier children. That combined with the fact his house was mixed with a lab resulted in it being a giant cluster of Osha violations. Opening the fridge was dangerous long before the portal opened and the food inside it would come to life, this was because they often stored dangerous and volatile chemicals inside of it and something as small as the light bulb flicking on inside could cause something to explode.

Danny had never felt safe in his house. Tuckers place had always been his safe haven and his parents had practically raised him as thier own. Thank the Ancients for Mr and Mrs Foley. He didn't know where he would be without them. This, of course, changed after the accident. Now he didn't feel safe anywhere.

After six months with his powers he began making contingency plans for everything. His friends called him paranoid but were forced to eat thier words not even a three days later when one stopped a new ghost from taking over the city.

Danny had always been good at making plans when he actually had time to sit down and think things through. He was also excellent at sneaking around and stealing. Now he knew why.

He might not want anything to do with his parents but he very much wanted more siblings. Jazz was great but she helped raise him since she was a baby. She felt way more like a mom than a sister. Dani was self explanatory. It hurt him to know that his siblings didn't know about him-couldn't know about him.

That is, until Red Hood appeared on the scene. At this point Danny had given up on his human life and found he had so much more free time. Sure he was technically still going to school, but that was to fight ghosts, he didn't attend classes. He set up alliances with other ghosts in the zone to help defend his territory and now Amity Park had a thiving ghostly undercity that few of the living knew about.

Danny finally had time to himself, even though Sam hated it. She kept telling him it was wrong. This was a hot topic of debate between him, Sam and Tucker with the boys both against her. Sure, watching the people who took him in and -well, not raise him exactly but fed and clothed him for years- drive around the city desperatly calling his name did make him feel kinda crappy.

Red Hood gave him hope. He was estranged from Bruce but was still his brother. Jackpot! Plus he was older than him and a known killer, so he wasn't likely to tattle on him to the big bad bat about Danny making Vlad "disappear" a few months ago. Hood made people disappear all the time so who was he to judge anyway?

Still, he could admit just showing up unannounced in his apartment was kinda dangerous. There was no garentee Hood would shoot him, brother or not. I mean, he's been violent with Robin lately and no one knows why, and he's thier brother.

Just as he was about to talk himself out of this and go back to his own city he heard the tell tale click of a gun. Crap.

"So, who are you?" Hood asked, seemingly aloof even while being confronted with a stranger breaking into his home.

Danny nervously gestured to the cookies he had made for them, "If i tell you will you promise not to tell Batman?"

[neonthewrite]

The Office Fae

The next prompt was Tangled, and I ended up with a brand new character for this one. He's fun so far. I'm enjoying his very gremlin energy. I hope you all like him too!

~~~

Life in an office building generally worked well for Simon, despite technically being a house fae. The rules could be fuzzy on that front, with so many humans coming and going every day. Sure, there wasn’t a singular family loving the place and cherishing their lives there, but a lot of humans from many families liked the building and their jobs there well enough to make the energy inviting. Something about flexible hours, good wages, and a solid benefits package made for a harmonious office with plenty of memories–some friendly, some dramatic, even some spicy memories.

Plus there was a vending machine. Simon came for the vibes originally, but he absolutely stayed for the vending machine. At a modest five and three quarter inches tall, he had easy access to a good variety of things in portions that lasted him days.

Another house fae rule he bent–it wasn’t precisely a bowl of cream left out for him specifically, but nobody could expect that these days. Keeping the vending machine stocked was close enough, and if the light bulbs and printer cartridges in the building all lasted longer than they should, well, Simon earned his keep. He probably saved them hundreds on the annual operations budget.

Work always slowed down around the end of winter, aside from some buzzing over in the accounting office. All the holiday parties were done and the potluck food all taken home from the break room fridges. Simon planned for it and handled it well, though things could get cold with the shorter hours and heat on less to make up for the emptier office.

To that end, Simon wintered in the ceiling of the server room. The servers, bulkier and taller than a human, stood clustered in a side room and were never turned off. Blinking lights of green and red and blue twinkled on each machine, colors filtering into the ceiling along with the ample warmth those hulking obelisks gave off.

With so much downtime, he found himself perched near an opening in the ceiling, a spot where the tile had broken off long ago, and watched the server lights flicker on the tangled mess of multicolored cables that ran between them. It was a game of his to trace each cable from end to end with his eyes, idly kicking his bare, grey-skinned feet (his skin had shifted to a tasteful, cool grey a few years ago after an office refresh had updated all the paint). Long, slender fingers absently braided silky hair the color of faded ballpoint ink while he scanned the cables with eyes reminiscent of the shocking, dreaded blue of a computer on its way out.

Most house fae took on colors in equal parts camouflage and defense. Simon would be tough to spot if he happened to be out in the open near a human, but if someone did see him, humans never liked seeing that blue. So his eyes would probably protect him.

Not that he ever intended to test that. As much as he liked his many many humans and their water cooler chatter, Simon was realistic. They wouldn’t like him much even if he shared their scale. All his features were a bit elongated, just enough to seem strange and other. He only wore flowing pants made of scrap fabric and he ate bugs sometimes. Humans would call him scary or freaky or any number of words they had for things they didn’t like, and if his eyes couldn’t scare them off he’d be in danger of a rolled up magazine or a dusty phone book.

He’d stayed hidden for a long time, and he anticipated many games of look-at-cables in his future, all without humans being a bother.

Of course, until they were a slight bother anyway. Simon paused his movements and tensed when the door opened abruptly. Light flooded in and he lost track of the cable he was tracing when he looked over, grateful for his higher vantage point and the human tendency to ignore background details.

Two figures stood there, one familiar and one not. One was Tom, a human whose limbs gangled a bit but whose middle had padded out after so many years in a desk job. His bald spot glowed with light from the hallway, and his rumpled t-shirt sported a band name Simon thought he recognized. From what Simon knew, Tom was every bit an IT master and a vital cog in keeping the office running smoothly. He didn’t have to dress any higher than casual.

The other human was a new face. A woman, probably younger than Tom by a couple decades. Her dark skin contrasted with his pale complexion. Her hair, coily and thick, grew longer atop her head though it was tapered close at the sides. She wore a smart blouse and slacks, which Simon immediately recognized as the sort of thing one wore to a job interview, or one’s first day at work.

Tom waved a hand at the servers whirring away in the room. “Servers in here. Probably not gonna need to be in here a ton, but y’know. If something needs a reset…”

The woman nodded and smiled faintly as she scanned the room. “What are the chances I can fix up some of those cables?”

She said it as a joke. Simon didn’t find it funny at all. Tom did. He laughed. “Now that I get someone to pass tasks like that along to, I imagine I can convince the bossman to let me schedule a maintenance day. Now, let’s get you some of your equipment…”

The door closed and the humans walked away, and Simon cared not at all for their conversation or the rest of the onboarding for this new IT interloper. She wanted to organize the cables, which simply would not do. Simon stalked back to his makeshift camp to get his pack.

This new hire was simply not a good fit, and he’d do what he could to stop her horrible plan.

[skyziej]

Gavril x y/n: To the beach

so, um, hi yall again, yep im back to just put a fanfic here, for @peaches-blook0-0 and my inspo writer is @nebulous-nevermore

Because of slinking shadows by @nebulous-nevermore i wanted to do a fanfic of gavril, so enjoy, u lil critters :))

(p.s, also, THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING IN A WHILE, SO PLEASE NO HATE ToT)

(also it's very long, so u can skim read if u want :))

Y/n x Gavril: to the beach (part 1)

Today was a slack day, you had no work and Gav, like always, had nothing to do. He was supposedly going out today to “borrow” people’s food from their houses, but why would he have to go, if the fridge at y/n’s house was already stocked up with cheese, fruit and many other delicious delectables, hence, there was no reason for Gavril to go to other people’s houses. After you had finished cutting up some watermelon and putting some cheese on an extra plate, you met Gav on the sofa in the lounge room before sitting next to him.

“What’s on the agenda today?” you asked Gavril, as you put the plates down on the coffee table Infront of youse.

 “Oh nothing darling, just relaxing for today before heading out, again, that is” he said with a relaxed sigh.

 Y/N:  “Uh huh, and don’t you always relax anyways, because u get to live in my house rent free?” you say picking up the tv remote.

 “Ha! Good one!” he said picking up a piece of cheese.

 U just roll your eyes at him before turning the tv on. As you turned it on, a wine commercial, with the beach as the background, played, making a sudden idea light up like a light bulb in your head.

“Gav, I know what we’re doing today.” You said as u turned the tv off.

 “What?” he asked.

“Were going to the beach.” U said.

“The what?”-Gav.

Gavril x y/n: to the beach (part 2)

After shopping and packing the car, u, Gavril and Sabolan (yes, sobolan is included 😊), were heading off to the beach.

“I can’t believe u don’t know what a beach is!?, What have u been doing Gav!?” you said as u were driving.

“Well, trying to survive, playing music, and being, well, a man of the night.” (he’s secretly batman peoples :33 (jk jk))” he said as he looked out the window.

 “Well that clearly hasn’t gotten u to see the most” you said.

After an hour of driving, youse finally got to a beach.

 “Up! Sleepy heads!” you said as u unbuckled yourself.

 Gav woke up drowsily, rubbing his face to wake up. “5 more minutes” he said as he fell asleep.

“Nope! Were all going, come on!” you said as u got out from the car, walked over to the passenger side, opened his door, and headed off to the boot of the car. You were unpacking the car until Gav came to help u too. After 40 mins, youse were all set. You both had all your stuff out and were ready to enjoy the beach.

You then walked onto the beach and ushered him to follow. He walked onto the sand with a precautionary step, taking him 5 mins to really feel the soft, warm, sand, between his grippers. Looking up from the sand, out into the vast blue.

He stood immobilized in thought, as he tried picturing his remembrance of the resonating feeling within him right now, a foggy memory, that wouldn’t clear up, he couldn’t quite put it together. But he swore he had felt this feeling somewhere before.

 The breeze made up for the heat that the sun was radiating, as it flowed through his hair. It was quite, quiet as the only thing that could be heard was the waves flowing up and down onto the bank of the beach, and the breeze that whistled by.

As he was lost in thought, you were waiting for him, but then realized he was spaced out. So, what u did was wave your hand Infront of him to get his attention.

y/n: “Hello, Gavvv, Gav to earth!?”.

 Gav: “huh? Oh, sorry was caught up in thought for a second, it’s just… this place feels familiar, like I’ve been here before” he said as he looked at u.

 “Well… maybe it’s a childhood memory?” u say.

 “Maybe...” he says looking out again.

 You then roll your eyes and shake ur head a bit before taking his hand and starting to walk. “Come on! What r we waiting for?! Let’s go!” u say as he follows u.

Gavril x y/n: To the beach (part 3)

You both enjoyed the day at the beach, which was chaotically eventful. First u both wanted to go swimming, and youse did. You were first into the water, then Gavril, but as soon as his tail submerged, he ran out as if something bit him. When u went to go and check up on him, he said that his tail (the goo) had responded in a ick way, making a sharp pain shoot up his spine, meaning he couldn’t stay in the water any longer, which meant that swimming was off the list (this fic includes Gav’s goo NOT being able to goo the whole ocean version, lol). Next you and him were playing in the sand, drawing in the sand with sticks found from nearby vegetation, before eventually being thrown at each other, as a joke, which, thankfully! Neither of u got hurt.

Youse then made sandcastles for Sabolan which was fun, and Sabolan went into nearby bushes to get small things for his sandcastles as well, which was all fine until he started getting chased by seagulls. Luckily Gavril saw what was happening to Sabolan, and ran to Sabolan’s aid, whacking the nearby seagulls away and making one of them fall to the sand, saving Sabolan.

Gavril then cupped his hands and bent down close to the sand for Sobolan to climb into his hands. Sobolan then quickly scurried into his hands, trembling a little from the deadly experience. Gavril then calmed him down by gently caressing his fur and holding him close to him. After that, Sobolan then learnt that he did not favor the beach after that experience, so he always stayed close by to Gavril.

Then for the afternoon you both had a small after-noon tea beach picnic, enjoying the chatter of each other, as u both ate some sandwiches you had made, followed by a home-made platter.

 After that you both had ventured along the beach in search of some shell’s At first, Gavril wasn’t sure what shell’s were, until you showed him, and after about 15 minutes of Gavril picking up every shell he could, his hands were full of different shaped and colored shell’s, which u had to put in your tote bag (You were carrying with u), because he had refused to let them go.

Gavril x y/n: to the beach (part 4)

After both of your mini little activities on the beach, youse had finally rested on a fallen log, that looked like it had been there for quite a while now. You both  sat next to each other.

With the sunset umbre of the afternoon sky, and the gentle and cool breeze rustling the nearby palm leaves above you two, Gavril couldn’t think of a better opportunity then to try something with u, that had been bobbing in his minds for months. He was about to break the silence, but you beat him to that first.

You: “So did u have fun?” you said as u look at him.

Gav: “ I did, it’s the best fun I’ve had in ages, except I couldn’t stay in the water, and that Sabolan nearly became seagull food, but apart from those things, I enjoyed the day most with you” he said quite heartedly. You then awkwardly chuckled, before quickly changing the subject.

You:  “Ha…yeah…but I enjoyed it with u too, and u Sabolan!”

You said as Sobolan, at the mention of his name, quickly scurried off Gavril and onto u, with a slight happy squeak. The conversation’s kept going until you felt Gavril’s hand take hold of yours.

“Hey, Y/N, may I try something with you?” he said as he looked at u with a slight red tint on his face.

 “Um…okay? What is it?” you said as you shifted to face your body in his way. He then turns to face you, holding both your hands in his. “Y/n, thank u for letting me and Sabolan stay with you. Even when I broke into your house, you still let us stay, and I am truly greatful” He said softly.

He then squeezed your hands gently and sighed, before speaking again. “You know….. how I said we could be more then roommate’s and u agreed to it?…..well…I’ve been thinking about it for some while now, and I didn’t know when to do it….but…this here…seems like the right moment to do so” he said as the red plastered across his cheeks increased, as he looked at you softly.

“Wha- what do u mean?” you said more quietly, as your blush deepened and your heart-rate increased, as you waited for something from him.

Gav: “Here let me show u” he said. You then watched him entangle his fingers with yours, before looking up at him. He saw how the sunset’s warm light, from the downing afternoon, made your features look twice as more beautiful. He then gently placed his hand upon your cheek, making your blush deepen again followed by a soft smile, which also made him smile.

He then lightly caressed your cheek with his thumb, before gently brushing some of your hair back behind your ear with the same hand, placing his hand on your shoulder. He then moved his face closer to yours, his eyes darting down to your lips, before back to your eyes.

So you too, moved in slowly as well until both your lips softly touched each other’s. He kissed you and you kissed back, both melting into the moment, as he then caressed your cheek once again, his tail gently touching your back, as if to keep you close and protected.

Gavril x y/n: to the beach (part 5)

You both pulled away after a minute and looked at each other with faces full of red, both reacting with a short, soft chuckle.

“Soooo…is it official?” he asked after a minute, as he looked at u.

“Hhmmmm…alright, but we’ll keep working on it, okay?” you said, as he looked at you with a soft smile, nodding a bit in agreement.

 “However that was good for your first move, I’ll give u that” you said looking at him.

“Thank you, y/n….so does that mean I get to continue staying at your house for free?” he said trying to get a reaction out of you.

“Don’t push it, lovey” you said as you gave him a look.

Gav: “Lovey? Now that’s a new one, better start calling you that too” he said with a light laugh. You just sighed, and shook your head a little, with a smile, as he smiled and held u close to him, leaning your head back onto his shoulder as he wrapped a comforting arm around you, before giving you a small kiss on the top of your head, and resting his head on yours, with a slight nuzzle, continuing to watch the remainder of the afternoon’s beautiful sunset.

(Anyways, that's all folks! hope u enjoyed it :))

[jhoneybees]

Needing help

I just can't stop writing😭 This one is inspired by the movie G.I Blues!

Characters: Tulsa(Elvis) and reader

Prompt: You and Tulsa have grown little crushes for each other when you two first met at a party that you got dragged along to with some of the other nurses but as time goes by, 5 years down the line of Tulsa working as a soldier and you as one of the nurses, your love for one another grew even stronger that it was itching you. Both of you know Paul, being another soldier who recently had a baby named Junior, Tulsa takes up the challenge of babysitting so Paul and his girlfriend could get married but one thing leads to another, Tulsa calls for your help.

_____________________________________________

"See ya later!" Tulsa waves to the soon to be married couple as they drive off, taking a deep breath preparing himself for what was to come before he heads back inside to start his babysitting duties. He takes a seat on the couch after closing the front door, sitting back and looking around the home thinking of what he could do to pass the time.

What about make a sandwich?

Whistling and humming a little tune as he nears the finishing product, he picks up the sandwich to take a bite but when his mouth opens, the sudden sound of a muffled baby's cry could be heard from the nursery. Tulsa springs up and quickly runs out of the kitchen, leaving the sandwich discarded on the baby's high chair, Barging into the room, he looks around to find Junior standing in his cot facing towards the door, crying sadly. "Woah, woah, woah, now just be calm... calm down, calm down!" Junior's distressed crying becomes louder and Tulsa looks around the room to find something that might calm the baby but nothing caught his eye so he tries to comfort with words again. " Don't be scared...don't be scared!" The poor baby whines louder and louder, helplessly trying to shush Junior. "Ya daddy's gonna be right back!.. t-they just went away to get married-" he pauses and thinks of what he just said, shaking his head realising that wouldn't be helping the situation. Maybe a little tickle might help? Nope, made the baby cry even more. "I-i'm your uncle Tulsa!..u-um let's play huh? Hey look, look" grabbing ahold of both of his ears and pulling a funny face hoping that would make Junior laugh but only earns another noisy cry. "Don't say I blame ya.." he sighs, stroking his chin with his hand, thinking hard of what could possibly make the baby stop crying, a light bulb lights up. "Hey I know, you're hungry! Aren't ya?" Lifting Junior out of the cot. "we'll fix that!" He states, walking into the kitchen, setting the baby in his high chair and turns to the fridge, Tulsa attempts to open the fridge door, finding it a little jammed so he pulls and shakes the handle for only the door to fly open and a bunch of food fall out onto the floor, including the baby's milk. He curses under his breath. "See what you made me do?" Looking at the crying baby "Waahh" mocking the baby's whining out of frustration.

The sound of the poor sad baby wails fills the house and he just doesn't know what to do, picking up a few food containers to clean up the accidental mess on the floor. The baby's wailing starts to fade, Tulsa turns his head to see the child holding the sandwich that he was going to eat. "Hey! hey! You can't have that" he tries to pry away the little baby fingers that are clawing at his sandwich making the crying louden once again. "Come on, give it to ya uncle Tulsa, C'mon!" his patience starts to grow thin "aw.." he looks away from the tuggle war game that the two are having, his mind trailing off "Army manual section 43..hand to hand combat with the enemy, apply judo jump at the back of neck" he looks back down at the baby "ooh if only you was my size you lil rascal" the game of tuggle war eventually comes to an end as Tulsa retrieves his sandwich and this time places it on a plate that sits on the dining table in the middle of the kitchen. He sighs in defeat, he needs help, he doesn't know what could soothe the baby... Wait... He could call you!

Grabbing the back of the baby's high chair, strolling it into the living room and picking up the telephone, dialling in the numbers. He closes his eyes, praying that you'd be up and awake.

"Hello?" Your soft voice breaks through the line, the sound of a relieved sigh comes through your end. "Y/n.. I-its Tulsa.. i-i- I need help, ya see I-i'm babysittin' Paul's baby for the night a-and I don't know what I can do for the baby to stop cryin, i-i- spilled the milk a-all over the kitchen floor a-and-" cutting him off from his rambling, you couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh, Tulsa frowns. "It ain't funny y/n! I-i- really don't know what to do!" You take a deep breath to get your composure back. " Yeah sorry Tulsa, that was mean of me.. y-you can come over to my place with Junior and I'll try to help" a small smile creeps onto Tulsa's face, he gets to go to your place, well he would preferably like to go alone but he takes what he can get. "Really?" Humming in response. "Oh thank you y/n thank you, I-i'll be there soon..g-give me 15 minutes-" you giggle and nod "alright, see you soon" the phone call ends and Tulsa rushes around the house to find all the things he could think of, the baby carrier, a blanket, diapers and wipes.

Finally arriving at your doorstep after apologising 100 times to the cab driver for Junior's loud cries as they were on the way to your apartment. Knocking the front door 3 times then a fourth time for good measure, Tulsa waits patiently with the baby.

The front door clicks open to reveal you in a casual swing dress that compliments you very nicely, you didn't think it would be too revealing. Tulsa's eyes move down to your…assets unintentionally of course! well maybe not unintentionally but he couldn't help but look. You practically do the same, looking up and down at his manly frame. Biting your lower lip but quickly clears your throat.

"Come in" stepping aside for the male to enter, Tulsa clears his throat and looks back up at your eyes and smiles, placing the baby carrier down on the couch and looks over at you with pleading eyes as you close the door and walk towards the baby, you give him a reassuring smile. "Aww you poor wittle baby.." you coo at Junior who was still crying, as your hands find their way under the child's armpits, you lift up the baby into your arms. Shushing them softly while patting their back earning little choked up sobs. "Shhh it's okay honey, it's alright. Just take a deep breath honey" Tulsa watches the scene in front of him, in disbelief.

How can he possibly fall for you even more? It was beyond him.

Tulsa doesn't really get to see you often because of your different positions but when he does get to see you he almost falls to his knees everytime, you're everything he's looking for, kind, humble, docile, wife material, mother material and the list goes on and on, same goes for you. Tulsa is everything you were looking for, someone who's kind, funny, friendly, eager to please, husband material, father material and more.

Junior’s crying soon fades only leaving little sad whimpers. "That's right...deep breaths" you continue to pat the baby's back a little longer before you turn to look at Tulsa, who was staring at you with love hearts in his eyes but you being oblivious you don't notice, the universe screaming in your face. "Could you move the two armchairs together to make a bed for Junior please?" Tulsa nods and does just that, he could do anything, anything for you to be his.

A bit obsessive? Maybe.

As you give Junior a bottle of milk to suckle on, Tulsa sits on one of the armrests, watching the baby contently drink the warm milk and lets out a calm sigh. "Thank you so much y/n.. I-I don't know how ya do it.." sitting on an armrest opposite from Tulsa, you smile softly. "No Problem, I'm glad I could help.."

Tulsa's eyes were filled with love and adoration, he wants to put a baby into that belly of yours so badly. So bad that his heart starts to ache.

he has to tell you at some point…maybe tell you now.

“Y/n…” you look up at Tulsa and hum softly “mm?” Gulping deeply, the male lowers his head to avoid eye contact and begins to play with the cuff on his sleeve. “I-i- I've been thinkin' about this for a while now a-and I- I think I'm ready to tell you- um-” he stammers and You hum again. Tulsa gulps once more before bringing his hand up to pull on his collar as if he was growing hot all of a sudden, he laughs nervously. “U-um so..ya see-” scratching the back of his neck, he forces himself to look you straight in the eye but only to look back down. Nonchalantly you shuffle closer to him and place your hand on his forehead, noticing his face turning red all of a sudden but being oblivious you just think he might have a fever.

Deep down, whatever his confession was, you hope it was having a crush on you.

As Tulsa feels your hand on his forehead, he looks back up and his heart rate quickens to see you closer to him, closer that he could kiss you.

Kiss you…he could kiss you right now.

Out of nowhere Tulsa leans in and pushes his lips up against yours, your eyes widen at the sudden action. Your brain fills with thoughts of what's actually happening and fear fills your insides. You push back on his shoulders, making Tulsa pull away with a heavy pant and you stand up, taking a step back. “I-i-I love you y/n.. i-i love you so damn much…” you see him lowering his head again and shaking his head. After a moment of silence, Tulsa speaks up again “m’sorry i-i- shouldn't have kissed you..it was too sudden, Junior and I can leave now I-if that's what you want, m’ really sorry…”

You love him too, you really do but you're just not as forward like Tulsa but the more you think about it, making him leave your apartment might ruin what you two have. You bite your lip as you think of what you might do. Closing your eyes before following your decision.

Your lips land on his again but this time cupping his cheeks with your hands, Tulsa being slightly taken aback but not long after he kisses back and his hands move up to rest on your waist. After a while you pull away and let out a quiet laugh. “I love you too Tulsa… love you so damn much” earning the happiest smile from Tulsa.

[spidercookie18]

I've had this idea in my head that Paul uses M&M tubes to keep his joints in! They're perfect, they start out having candy AND they're air tight! If you can make anything out of that for the love of all that lives, you gotta.

Summary: Paul is a fiend, and makes it grandpa Emerson's problem Word Count: 2.5k

Great ask! I love this one a lot, you’re gonna get a crack response, but it’s a good response. Cause I’m smoking a crack pipe full of these fruity little bitches!

So, I’ve been toying with the idea of the boys going to COSTCO; hear me out. Any TLB AU where everyone survives, means Lucy will take the boys in; no if’s and’s or buts about it. She is the best 80’s mom ever, she’s for sure adopting them. Which makes the whole David x Michael thing weird bc they would be…stepbrothers? Whatever, vampire relationships are complicated. She would also have to be feeding like 10 people. Hold on, lets actually count. It’s the boys, that’s 4 + Lucy, Sam, Michael, Grandpa E, another 4, then Star, and Laddie, which is 2 AND maybe Max, and the Frog brothers… depending on how that goes. Anyways, that’s still at LEAST 10 mouths to feed.

So, Lucy, being the mom that she is, would get a COSTCO membership to get all the things that her new, big family would need. Now, you’re probably wondering, “Ari, where the fuck are you going with this?”

WELL

Lucy would get a COSTCO card so she could get these rambunctious fuckers what they need. Max would foot the bill, and everyone would be ‘happy’ about it and shut up forever.  (FYI, Costco in the 90’s looked more like a Home Depot, which I hate).

Lucy notices, IMMEDIATELY that her new sons have some interesting snack choices to say the least.

David is waaay too into eggs, to the point where she doesn’t know if he’s even eating them, or if he’s just hiding them somewhere. Marko goes through wheels of cheese like they’re apples. Dwayne likes… pickled fish and marshmallows. And Paul… well, she’s concerned for all of them, but she’s most concerned for Paul.

He’s quickly becoming her favorite. He always helps with chores, even if he doesn’t want to.  He changes light bulbs for her, even catches and releases the bugs that get in the house for her. Sure, he’s screaming and yelling the whole time it takes him to get the damn bug outside, but it’s the thought that counts. He's a mama’s boy through and through.

Lucy started worrying for him though, the second she noticed he would go through candy so quickly.  And not just go through candy, he would go through the damn candy. Paul could eat a whole box of candy, within a few minutes. When she got trick or treat candy for one Halloween, Paul went through several hundreds of dollars’ worth of candy within a few hours. Specifically, she noticed, he would tear through the mini m&m tubes like nobodys business.

Which, if you asked Paul, he’d say it really was, “nobody’s business.”

She would buy the giant COSTCO boxes that had 24 tubes and he would just walk off with the whole box. After he’d done that three or four times, she brought it up to David.

Lucy: I’m worried that Paul is… going to make himself sick.

David: *Leaning against the kitchen counter* We’ve been worrying about that for a lot longer than you have, he’s just like that.

Lucy: No, I mean, he keeps stealing these… little… *gestures with her hands* tubes of candy and I don’t know what he’s doing with them.

David: Oh, *rubs his chin* well that would be concerning… if it wasn’t Paul.

Lucy: Can you just make sure he’s not eating all that candy, can you boys process sugar fine like that?

David: *shrugs*

Michael: *walks into the kitchen, and grabs something from the fridge*

Lucy: OH, oh, Michael, *waving her hands* tell David about the thing.

Michael: *closes the fridge* Oh, no, not this again. *To David* Is she bothering you with this? *To Lucy, pointing with the soda bottle* Are you bothering him with this?

David: *snorts* This is a real hot button issue, eh?

Lucy: I’m worried about him, is no one else worried about him?

Michael: He’s a weird guy, mom. He’s just like that.

Lucy: But-

Michael: Mom if it’s that big of a deal why don’t you ask him about it?

Lucy: I TRY. But every time I try to ask him about it, he bolts. And, *pointing at Michael and David* with all that damn candy, I might add.

David: *laughing* Yeaah, that sounds like Paul.

Michael: Don’t encourage her.

Lucy: *glares at Michael*

David: Listen Ms. E, I wouldn’t worry about it making him sick. But if it means that much to ya, I’ll talk to him about it.

Lucy: Thank you, David, *pats his back*

David: *already halfway out the room* okay byeeeeeeeeee

What lucy didn’t know, was while, yes, Paul was a fiend for sugar, he was hoarding the m&m tubes for a much more nefarious reason.

Paul was like a pack rat. Step one foot into the cave, and you’d think it was just a mangled mess of shit. But, if you looked closely, you’d notice all the little things hidden away.

Paul had been, for the last several months, eating, emptying, and refilling the plastic, airtight containers with grandpa E’s marijuana. He had been sneakily snatching the sticky green buds in the middle of the night and stashing them away for safe smoking.

Albeit, not as sneaky as he thought. Cause, on more than one occasion, grandpa E had been waiting outside in the garden with the spray hose for Paul. Whenever Paul would slosh into the cave the boys knew he got hosed again, and they’d laugh at his ass.

But, Paul, the ever persistent, learned grandpa E’s habits, and how to better sneak the weed away undetected. He’d crawl on his belly across the roof of the house with a bag slung across his shoulder (think army style, when they make them crawl through the mud; that’s Paul). He would peep his little face over the side of the roof and watch for grandpa in the garden. The first few nights, grandpa E stood outside for a few hours with the hose, waiting for the wild blond.

His persistence paid off, after a few days, grandpa E thought it was safe, and Paul snatched up his goodies. Paul thought he was being sneaky by hovering above the ground and not leaving boot prints; but the next morning, when Lucy, Sam, and Michael were having breakfast and they heard a string of old man cuss words, they knew ‘smokey the bandit’ struck again. Lucy didn’t believe for a second that sweet Paul could steal from her dad, so she chalked it up to her dad smoking too much and being old.

The next night when the boys went to visit for ‘pizza night’ grandpa E railed into Paul. He would not stop ranting and raving about how he was, “going to hog tie his ass,” and, “turn him into the ugliest taxidermyed vampire there ever was.”  Lucy gave the boys some money and sent them to get the pizza to let her dad cool down, but when grandpa E insisted he didn’t want Paul back in the house until he apologized, she told the boys to just go out for pizza.

Marko: Paul, you asshole, just apologize so we can go back.

Paul: If I apologize, then that proves I did it- which I didn’t.

Dwayne: Dude, we all know it was you.

Paul: Hey, he’s getting old, that’s 100% not my problem.

David: You know, if you strip the stalk, that kinda makes it more obvious, dumbass.

Sam: You shoulda heard him this morning,

Michael: Yea, it was pretty bad. I’ve never heard him blow up like that.

David: Really? What happened

Sam: He went crazy! He wouldn’t stop screaming!

Marko: *giggling*

Sam: It’s not funny dude, okay? He said words I’ve never even heard before!

Dwayne: Like what? ‘Dagnabbit?’

David: *snorts*

Michael: *Pulling Paul’s jacket by the sleeve* You know if he catches you, you’re dead.

Paul: I’m already dead, also, I’m so not scared of your ‘pappy’.

Michael: Hey, it was a fair warning.

After that, grandpa E went through with operation: catch that flying asshole. He brewed pots of coffee to stay up all night and traded in his hose for a shotgun. Grandpa E sat outside with a chair and his shotgun across his lap, just waiting for Paul to show.

Paul, the ever persistent, waited over a week for his prize. Lucy watched from the kitchen window, as her dad sat outside and stared at the night sky. Her, and Sam were beginning to worry about his mental state. He’d been forcing himself to stay away for hours, and whenever he did fall asleep, Paul would chuck pebbles at him to see if he’d gone to bed for good. Grandpa E would immediately wake up, startled, and one time he’d rang a shot off into the night. Lucy scolded him, saying what if he’d hit a bird, or one of the boys. And his response was, “good! Those fuckers need to learn to stop stealing my stuff!”

One night, after almost 10 nights, there was an opening.

Paul laid on his back, staring at the night sky, rolling the little grey pebble around between his fingers. He was getting sick of waiting, and if he wasn’t worried about what Lucy thought of him, he would have just gone and taken the whole damn garden already. He stared up at the stars, watching the clouds roll in.

Clouds.

He listened to the water as it began to fall softly onto the roof. The pitter-patter came slowly, then faster, then it came in a downpour.

Grandpa E: LUCY!

Lucy:

Grandpa E: LUUUCYYYY!

Lucy: What dad?

Grandpa E: Lucy! Bring me the umbrella!

Lucy: No Dad!

Grandpa E: WHAT?! But it’s a downpour!

Lucy: If you want the umbrella, you gotta come get it yourself!

*Lucy had had enough of her dad’s shenanigans and was determined to get him to come inside from the cold. She hoped this rainstorm was the wakeup call he needed. *

Grandpa E:

Grandpa E: SAM! MICHAEL!

Lucy: They’re not here dad!

Grandpa E: LUCY, YOU BRING ME THAT DAMN UMBRELLA BEFORE I CATCH MY DEATH OUT HERE!

She was done entertaining the notion that Paul, her sweet, kind, always there to help anyone, Paul, was stealing from her dad. He would have to come inside one way or another.

Grandpa E grumbled as his button-up shirt started to get soaked.

Paul turned to lay on his belly and watched his nemesis shift around, trying to determine what to do next. “Go inside, you old bastard,” Paul mumbled to himself. The rain was coming down hard now, if it wasn’t for his vampire eyes, he wouldn’t be able to see anything through the rain. Paul could stay out in the cold and wet forever if he needed to, but he knew grandpa E had to go inside, “go in,” Paul insisted.

He watched as grandpa E pulled the shotgun off his lap and scampered inside. He could hear him mumble something about an umbrella as he ran through the screen door into the kitchen.

Now was his chance!

Paul quickly flew down to the garden. He planted both feet firmly on the ground, what did it matter if his boot prints were in the ground, grandpa knew he was there, and also the rain would wash them out. Paul’s boots squished under him in the wet, burbly mud, he squatted down and grabbed the plant from the base of the stalk and ripped it out of the ground. The roots of the plant dripping down with mud and rain. He repeated his process a few more times. “Fucking old bastard,” he grumbled, as he pulled another plant up by the roots, “making me come out here in the - *grunts* FUCKING RAIN.”

He grabbed a few stalks, tucked them under the strap of his bag and flew off into the night.

Grandpa E heard the “woo-hoo” as he was reaching for the screen door. He ran outside, looking for the umbrella was a flop, it took him too long to search in the cramped closet, so he gave up and decided to return to his green patch of goodness. He scampered back to the kitchen and saw a hurried mess of hair shifting around in the garden.

Grandpa E: Look! There he is! *Pointing out the window*

Lucy: *Walking to the window* Dad, I don’t see anything?

Grandpa E: What do you mean?! He’s right there!

Lucy: *straining her eyes* Dad, it’s a downpour, I can’t see anything.

Grandpa E: *running to the screen door* I got your ass now!

But, as we all know, by the time he got out there, it was too late. Grandpa E, stared at the ground in defeat. He watched as the holes where the stalks used to be burbled and filled with mud and water. The boot prints were fading before his eyes. He knew no one would ever believe him now, and he knew Paul knew that too.

If he didn’t hate him so much by this point, he’d might have applauded him. But for now, he just fell to his knees, the mud sloshing under his pajama pants, and he wailed into the night.

Paul laughed the whole way back to the cave.

When he finally landed, he happily stomped down into the cave. He leaves of the stalks rustling, mud dripping off the stalks and the roots.

His boots squelched under his weight and the mud tracked in behind him.

The other boys and Michael watched as the cocky, rain washed out blond walked into the cave.

Marko: No fucking way.

Dwayne: Oh, Paul you didn’t

David: Atta boy!

Michael: Oooooh, I’m not here.

Paul hummed happily to himself; he ignored his brothers’ jeers as he walked to his alcove. He slung the bag off around his head set the stalks down next to his bean bag chair. He sat down on the tattered, ratty thing with an oomph. He looked at the stalks, he’d clean em and prep em for use later. Paul intended to pluck the seeds out and plant them near the cave, entirely done with being ‘smokey the bandit’.

He shifted to one side and reached a hand under the bag. He rifled around under the chair for a second before he produced what he was reaching for, an m&m tube. He patted his jacket for a lighter and popped open the blue plastic container. He wafted the open container under his nose and turned the tube upside down. A joint slid out into his open palm.

Paul plucked the twisted white paper and set it in his mouth. He flicked the lighter on and lit the end. He took a deep inhale and laid back further in his bean bag chair, still ignoring his brothers half-assed remarks.  

Victory never tasted so sweet.

[daydream-cement]

The Road Trip Ch. 3

Our characters are creating relationships and destroying them. More importantly, they have no idea what is to come next.

this fic has been such a joy to write with my @bri-sonat !!! initially this crossover idea was supposed to be something so much more simple, but em and i just kept writing.... and writing... and writing (and i couldn't be happier about it).

After hours of wasting away at the pool's edge, Larissa retreated indoors in search of a meal, unsure of who to expect wandering about the house. The shapeshifter ducked into the kitchen, pulling her swimsuit cover tighter around her waist when she saw she wasn’t alone. 

Miranda was shoveling cereal into her mouth happily, waving to Larissa and speaking with a full mouth as she entered, “Hey, Riss! Can you believe it’s 6 already?”

“I cannot.” Larissa shook her head, opening up the fridge to see what food it was stocked with. The shapeshifter happily pulled a premade salad from the fridge and then began searching around the kitchen for silverware,  “How are you feeling?”

Miranda waved a hand like she was batting away the question, “I’m fine. I was just tired. Brienne was being all chivalrous and overprotective.” She certainly wasn’t upset with Brienne’s actions, only a true friend would do something so kind.

“What’s her deal anyway? Earlier I told her she was attractive and she was furious with me…” Larissa tried to keep her tone casual and polite, not wanting to rouse any suspicion from Miranda. The headmistress eventually found a fork on her third try at a random drawer and then joined Miranda at the dinner table.

Miranda shrugged as she spectated Larissa, taking a seat across from her, “I dunno. Oh! You should ask Phas, I saw that they were pretty chummy before we started playing.” The constable’s mouth was filled with half-chewed cereal as she spoke, eyes lighting up when she remembered seeing the two women speaking earlier. “I really know nothing about Brienne. She’s so, hmmm, what’s the word I’m searching for here? Oh! Mysterious!” As she tried to look for the word, she gestured wildly with her free hand, trying to will the adjective to come to mind. The headmistress could almost see the bulb light above the cereal-eating woman’s head once it did.

“I’m certainly not talking to that woman. If I set foot anywhere near her room, I wouldn’t doubt harm may come to me.” Larissa’s voice was more of a low murmur, wanting to keep anyone other than Miranda from hearing her. One of the shapeshifter’s hands gripped the edge of the salad bowl, the other manipulating the fork into mixing the salad.

“Oh, Weems, you flatter me so. Glad to hear you speak so highly of me.” Both of the women snapped their heads towards the sound of the new voice that had entered their space. Phasma stood in the archway, eyeing both Larissa and Miranda who looked like they had gotten caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Larissa’s brow furrowed momentarily before the headmistress finally straightened her back and applied a diplomatic smile to her face. For years she had been working with people she didn’t quite like, what was another week? The mixing of her salad slowed and Larissa gestured to the empty seats with a nod of her head, “Care to join us, Captain?”

“Are you sure you want me to? After what I heard you two talk about I think it’d be best if I had my dinner up in my room. Don’t let me disturb you. Carry on.” Phasma moved into the kitchen fully, making a direct line for the fridge. 

“If you wish…” Larissa shrugged, not caring where Phasma chose to eat.

Miranda seemed to have a difference of opinion, her kind nature bubbling to the surface, “No way! Phas, you have to eat dinner with us! I wanna hear stories about you working for the first order. I’m sure you have some good ones.” Miranda pointed to a chair directly across from Larissa and her tone was borderline begging Phasma to stay. The constable was hoping all of the women could be friends after the trip, so promoting togetherness was a part of her grand agenda.

Phasma opened the fridge door, turning her upper body as she did to look back at the two women who were sitting at the dinner table. Miranda stared giddily at Phasma, whereas Larissa held intense eye contact with her salad, “Well. If you insist.” Grabbing a protein shake from the fridge, she closed the door and moved to join the constable and headmistress.

“Really? Oh, cool!! I have so many questions. Well, not exactly questions, but I wanna know everything you’re willing to share. How many planets have you been to?” Miranda tried stilling herself, but she was vibrating in her chair from the pure excitement of eating dinner with Phasma. For years, the constable had enjoyed movies and television about traveling in space and now she had the opportunity to sit and talk with someone who had experienced everything she could only dream of.

Larissa glanced up at Phasma at Miranda’s question, curious herself of the answer. The shapeshifter stabbed at her salad, filling her mouth to avoid her having to join the conversation in any capacity.

“First of all, slow down. Second of all, it depends. Planets in total, or planets that are still intact?” Phasma sat down across from Miranda, leaning back in her chair and twisting the lid of her shake open to take her first sip.

Miranda’s eyes widened at Phasma’s words, and a grin broke out. Phasma’s words reminded Miranda of so many of the movies and shows she had watched over her lifetime. She tried to reel in her excitement, but it was near impossible, “Both? How many planets have you destroyed? Were they a threat to who you have pledged allegiance to?”

“Well. Planets? Too many to count, if I had to venture a guess, I would say fifty, sixty, maybe? As for planets being destroyed, I’d say half of my previous numbers. If you want a precise number I will have to check my journal. I destroyed them because I felt like it.” Phasma answered all of Miranda’s quick questions, speaking of her immorality and crimes as if talking about her dinner from last night. Speaking so casually of blowing up people’s homes, and for fun, of all things.

Larissa eyed Phasma, unable to hide her calculating look. The shapeshifter found the captain to be strange in many ways, but these stories seemed almost unbelievable. Miranda turned to the headmistress in shock when Larissa asked a question of her own, her tone looking to challenge the captain, “And how many people have you killed?”

Phasma’s eyes shifted from Miranda to Larissa when she spoke up. Her brows cocked in surprise and interest, her eyes analyzing the shapeshifter. She hadn’t expected the principal to join in on the conversation, especially not with such a loaded query, “Now that. That, I lost count of many years ago. Stopped counting after I hit one hundred, there wasn’t simply any space left in my journals. And it is so hard to count bodies, and body parts when they are blown up and mangled beyond recognition.” The captain wore a fond smile as she spoke, proud of reliving and retelling her vile actions.

Larissa’s lip curled involuntarily at the more gory details, not appreciating the candid reply. The headmistress turned her gaze back down to the salad, trying to regain her will to eat. Miranda, however, only had more questions for the captain, “Wait… do you work for the good guys or the bad guys?”

Phasma noticed the headmistress' disgusted expression, “If you didn’t want to know, you shouldn’t have asked, darling.” The captain turned her attention back to Miranda, choosing to answer the question neutrally, “Depends on who you ask.” She took another sip of her shake as she waited for the constable in front of her to elaborate on the inquiry.

Larissa couldn’t hold her tongue, the need for a verbal joust spilling from her mouth when Phasma was done speaking, “And you kill to- What? Fill the void? Who hurt little Phasma that you can’t seem to not threaten someone at every turn?” The headmistress began to regret her words immediately, knowing the captain was sure to bite back.

Phasma’s previous expression fell, the inherent glower and piercing eyes returning to her features after Larissa spoke. Her eyes immediately went back to the headmistress, leaning forward in her chair to get even closer to the platinum-blonde woman, “No. I kill because it feels good. Because I want to. And because I can.” The captain stared into the shapeshifter’s eyes, assessing whether or not the potential spout was worth her time.

Larissa held firm, keeping her posture and maintaining searing eye contact. The headmistress was putting all of her faith in Lucifer to not let Phasma break the only house rule. She gave Phasma a soft smile, breaking eye contact to gather another forkful of salad, gazing into Phasma’s eyes and speaking before pushing the greens into her mouth, “And here I would’ve guessed not enough hugs from mother.”

Phasma huffed a dry laugh, “Oh. So now I have mommy issues?” Leaning back in her chair once again, she took another sip, “What an astute observation. Where did you learn that, during your own childhood? I’m sure having a cold and distant mother leads to seeing some equal signs. You would know better than most, no?” 

“More so that you remind me of my students. The same ones who lash out for attention and hurt others when they really just need love, hm? But your amateur psychology was worth a shot.” Larissa wasn’t about to reveal any aspect of her relationship with her mother to this woman. Instead, the headmistress only dug her claws in deeper, rolling her shoulders back as she stared at Phasma.

“Real interesting connection there, only issue is, I am nothing like your little child students. There was no ‘amateur psychology’ in play, I too am observant, you know.” Phasma smirked over her drink, maintaining the heated stare. 

Larissa hadn’t experienced this much verbal warfare since she herself was a student at Nevermore. The headmistress scoffed and dropped her fork in the bowl to fold her arms over her chest, “Observant? Not a word I would have used to describe you, but sure, if you think so.” 

“Not observant, you say? Would a non-observant person have seen the way you look at our dear Lord Commander? The way you eye-fuck her when you think no one is watching, hmm?” Phasma leaned closer and closer to Larissa, an extremely smug smirk on her face, watching for every single reaction the headmistress could wear. The captain was now playing dirty.

Larissa pursed her lips, looking Phasma up and down before making eye contact once more, “I know good art when I see it.” Pushing her chair back, Larissa moved to stand, earning some height over Phasma, even if it was momentary. She considered holding the next thought in, but the need to win the argument was too great, “You can’t be all that observant because you would have noticed me eye-fucking you too.” 

The captain stood herself, a wry chuckle escaping her lips, “Oh no, you misunderstand. I noticed that as well. I just didn’t want to embarrass you by bringing it up.” Phasma tilted her head to the side slightly, “Which is why I find this conversation so amusing. The fact that you were arguing with me when you couldn’t keep your eyes off of my thighs just a few hours ago.”

“What can I say? You are fun to argue with.” Larissa nabbed her salad bowl from the table and took her leave. She knew Phasma would take this as a win, but she couldn’t stand to be in the woman’s presence with the deep red blush crawling up her face. 

The chromed trooper laughed deeply as she watched Larissa leave in her periphery, her booming voice shouting after the shapeshifter, “This was fun, let’s do it again sometime!”

Always needing the last word, Larissa paused momentarily, “I’m sure you would just love that, wouldn’t you?” She knew it wasn’t the best comeback, but her frustration got the best of her. The headmistress stormed from the home, choosing to finish her dinner outside, muttering to herself in the lounge area.

“I would love that very much! I always enjoy frustrating people and making them flustered!” Phasma knew Larissa had left the house, hearing the closing of the door, but the quiet house carried her voice, and she knew that the headmistress had to have heard at least a fraction of her words. The captain took her seat, returning to her spot across from Miranda, and continued sipping on her shake.

Miranda turned her gaze down to the cereal bowl, unsure if she wanted to ask any additional questions. There was no way she wanted to be on the receiving end of any discussion like that. 

Phasma took a deep breath, and almost like the argument never happened, she, scarily calm and composed, looked to Miranda, “So, any more questions?”

Miranda only shook her head, focusing on finishing the rest of her cereal so she could go anywhere that wasn’t under the captain’s uncomfortable gaze. The soft clinking of metal against the ceramic bowl was the only noise that came from Miranda’s side of the table.

“Very well. This has been a very fulfilling dinner. Thank you for allowing me to join.” Phasma smiled to herself, satisfied with the end of her heated discussion with Larissa, this had been the most interesting thing that had happened all day. She finished the rest of her shake, standing up to throw away her trash. Once she had done so, she took her exit, leaving Miranda alone in the kitchen.

Miranda finished up her meal and left her bowl in the sink, wanting to explore the house until she found Brienne. At least she knew the knight wouldn’t have any rude comments to throw back and forth. The constable was excited for a fun trip with new friends, but this vacation was beginning to look bleak.

The constable padded down to Brienne’s room first, knocking gently and calling out to the other woman, “Bri, it’s Miranda! Are you busy?”

Ever since Brienne brought Miranda to her room and provided her with whatever she needed, she had retreated to her room and hadn’t left since. At the knock on her door and the voice from the other side, the knight smiled, glad that the constable was feeling well enough to be up and walking, “Not particularly.” The Lord Commander’s voice was muffled from the other side and seconds after, the hardwood was opened, “What can I do for you, Constable?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. Phas and Rissa had one of those knock-down, drag-out fights and I think it’s best to leave them alone for a bit. We could go for a walk or explore the house or just sit around. Whatever you want…” Miranda shrugged and tried to sound impartial, but deep down she was jumping at the bit for Brienne to hang out with her. While Phasma was cool for living in space, Miranda felt a kinship with the lady knight, assuming they may share many of the same experiences.

“Well, that certainly sounds unpleasant.” Brienne furrowed her brows, stepping out of her room and closing the door behind her. “I would love to hang out. We can do whatever you wish.” The knight smiled at Miranda, wishing to take her mind off the surely terrifying experience of being stuck in a spout between Phasma and Larissa. “I am glad to see that you are doing better, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m alright.” Miranda waved off the other woman’s care and took a step back, hoping to draw Brienne from her room, “We can sit in the living room. I wouldn’t want to invade your space. I want to hear about you being a knight- I mean, Lord Commander. That’s really cool…”

Brienne laughed fondly at the constable’s quick correction, “I am still a knight. Just a different title and job. I can tell you about both if you wish, I have many stories.”

“Yes, tell me everything. It isn’t every day you meet a woman like you.” Miranda gave a quick smile, beginning to slowly lead herself and Brienne towards the main room of the home, ready to soak up every story Brienne had to offer.

“Well, most of the interesting stories happened before I was officially knighted. There’s the story of how I fought against and beat two of the strongest fighters, not at the same time, of course. Or the story of the war against the white walkers, that one took place after I got my knighthood.” Brienne walked with her hands clasped behind her back as she spoke, maneuvering the house to arrive in the living room.

“Who are the strongest fighters? And what’s a white walker? Is that like a ghost? Probably not…” Miranda settled on the couch, drawing a pillow to her chest and staring intently at the knight, ready to consume and memorize each of her stories. The constable was quick to appoint women as ‘personal heroes’ especially when they live lives and accomplish things she could only dream of.

Brienne had taken her seat on the couch next to Miranda, sitting stiffly upright with her palms resting flat on her thighs, “Well, there was Ser Jaime Lannister, I was ordered to escort him and ended up having to fight him, his manacled form most definitely helped me, though. Then there was The Hound, he used to be in the King’s Guard, and he was a worthy opponent, I was very surprised to see him alive.” As the Lord Commander spoke, she grew more and more relaxed, allowing herself to lean back a tiny bit. “White walkers are dead beings from the other side of the wall, they never truly died, you just had to keep fighting until the Night King was slayed.”

“They never truly died? Night King? How many of them were there?” Miranda leaned forward in her seat, literally at the edge of her seat from Brienne’s tales. From the way her mouth remained agape and her brow furrowed, Miranda was unable to hide her true wonderment from the thought of Brienne fighting zombies. 

The knight smiled heartwarmingly, never had someone been so invested in her anecdotes before, “Exactly so. You could slash as much as you wanted, but as soon as one fell to the ground, it rose. There were hundreds of them. White walkers and wights as far as the eye could see. At one point, I and another knight were cornered, our swords wildly gliding through the air, fighting with every single ounce of strength left in us.” Brienne had opted for dramatics, lowering her voice as she spoke, telling the story theatrically for Miranda’s enjoyment. She lowered her voice even more before she began speaking of the leader. “Yes, the Night King. His skin was wrinkly and ice white, eyes glowing and blue as The Shivering Sea. He is said to have existed since the age of the First Men. You kill him, you kill them all. All his troops.”

Miranda fell into the dramatics, enjoying every second as she envisioned Brienne battling the white walkers. She couldn’t help herself when she became Brienne’s biggest fan, “But how did you survive? I mean, probably because you are the coolest person to ever exist. I swear to God, Bri. You are amazing. I couldn’t imagine doing anything like this. Are there... Are there many other knights that are women?”

“That’s a very good question. I’d like to think it was pure luck. Or that the Gods were smiling down at me. Or maybe it was pure skill. All I do know is that had that battle gone on for another minute, I would be one of the bodies on the frozen ground.” Brienne paused for a second, thinking back to the moments when she thought she was done for before the white walkers crumpled to the ground. “No. I am the only one. Sadly, it is frowned upon for a woman to be anything else than a woman, in what society deems as ‘traditional.’”

“I was the only woman at my department for a little while... It can be... rough.” Miranda’s eyes fell to the floor, moments from those two years flashing through her mind of the ‘man’s world’ she was expected to exist in. 

“What changed?” Brienne had turned her body towards Miranda when she saw the constable’s gaze fall on the floor, her tone low and gentle, her eyes locked on the policewoman next to her.

“Well, my partner came to work at the department. Robin and I didn’t see eye to eye at first, but after a while... we became friends. She is always nice enough to stand up for me when the guys say something offhand.” Miranda brought her gaze back up to meet Brienne’s, slightly embarrassed at her admission that she typically refuses to stand up for herself, especially when she has painted Brienne to be such a fearsome individual in her mind.

“I’m glad you have someone like that on your side, though you should start standing up for yourself as well. Recognize your own worth, your own value.” Brienne smiled fondly at Miranda, empathizing with much of what the constable was talking about. Knowing all too well what it felt like to be constantly bad-mouthed and ridiculed.

Miranda only shrugged, knowing it was unlikely she would stand up for herself unless she was pushed to the brink like she had been with Robin when their relationship was on the rocks, “I’m sure the guys are just joking most of the time. No reason to cause trouble if I can help it. Don’t worry about it, Bri. I’ll make a commissioned rank one day while the rest of those guys are stuck as sergeants and constables.” The constable smiled to herself, picturing the rank she could hold one day. 

Brienne frowned and drew her brows together, in her experience, men’s so-called ‘jokes’ always held their version of their truth. “Men call the actual insults jokes so they can say, ‘it’s not that serious,’ or ‘you can’t take a joke.’ Their ‘jokes’ are just mockery disguised as jest so they can play it off like one.” The knight was leaning forward, arms resting on her thighs as she spoke to Miranda. “I assume they would be quite pissed about the fact that they would have to take their orders from a woman, I know you will do a wonderful job.” 

“Ha. So you’re telling me they are serious when they call me a man? Great.” Miranda tried playing off her pain as a joke, but her tone didn’t quite land. Rather than continue on the subject, Miranda attempted to change the subject, “So what’s your deal with not wanting to get in the pool? If you don’t know how to swim, I can totally show you how to swim if you want.”

“Most definitely.” Brienne considered reaching out and placing a comforting hand on the constable’s knee but didn’t know if that would be appreciated, considering people’s previous reaction to any type of physical intimacy from her, so she refrained from doing so. “I grew up on an island, so I know how to swim. My reason for not wanting to get in the pool is far more complex and complicated, it runs deep and has for years.” The Lord Commander wasn’t all that keen on bringing up all of her childhood and adult life experiences she had gone through because of the way she looked and the career she had. Instead, she opted for a short and simple answer, hoping it would satisfy Miranda’s inquisitiveness.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry...” Miranda trailed off, unsure of what to say to Brienne next now that she had effectively ruined their discussion, “Well, I-”

The constable paused mid-sentence when she saw Larissa’s pale, swimsuit-clad form from the corner of her eye. The shapeshifter spoke up, joining the conversation uninvited, “What are you two up to?” Larissa strode into the living room, landing on the cushion next to Miranda, and tossing her sheer swimsuit cover over her legs. 

“Brienne was telling me about all of her adventures. Rissa, I’m telling you she is the coolest person on Earth.” The constable’s hand reached out and gripped Larissa’s forearm, shaking the headmistress to indicate how excited she really was about hearing the knight’s tales. Larissa kept her eyes on Miranda, not wishing to make Brienne any more upset than she had earlier. 

The knight laughed softly and shook her head at how Miranda spoke about her, “I would not say that I am the coolest person on Earth, I think you are overselling me a little bit to the Principal here.”

“Don’t listen to her, Riss. She is underselling herself. She has fought zombies and kicked men’s asses in battle. I get why you like her so much.” Miranda’s mouth was moving faster than her brain as she spoke to Larissa, spilling a quick summary of their conversation, including more than she should have revealed. The headmistress’s gaze narrowed at the constable’s revelation, wishing the woman could have just kept her mouth shut. 

“That is true, I have done tha- What?” Brienne stared wide-eyed at Miranda who hadn’t been able to stop the words that tumbled from her lips. The knight released a sigh before standing up, her new friend apparently being in on the forever-ongoing plan to point and laugh at Brienne the Beast. She felt a deep, and cutting disappointment and sadness, but had learned long ago to not expect much from people; their true colors always show sooner or later. “This has been a wonderful conversation but I think it is time for me to retire for the night. I will see you both tomorrow.” The Lord Commander quickly bowed before leaving the room, not allowing the constable or the headmistress to protest or respond in any way.

“Miranda,” Larissa hissed, burying her face in her hands in sheer embarrassment. At least Phasma would have teased her about it in private instead of making her ‘crush’ known to Brienne. 

“I’m sorry! It just slipped out! I didn’t think it would make her upset!” Guilt washed over Miranda and a pit of anxiety began growing in the woman’s stomach for upsetting her friend. The constable moved to stand so she could follow after Brienne, wishing to comfort her and apologize in any way she could, but Larissa reached out a hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“Leave her be, Miranda,” Larissa warned, but Miranda pulled her arm loose, choosing to follow after Brienne instead, not wanting to give the knight any longer to think about her words. 

Miranda bounded after Brienne, watching her door close from a distance. Knocking at the door, Miranda thought over her final words to Brienne, wondering what she could have said to cause the knight to take her leave so suddenly, “Bri, what did I say? I didn’t mean to upset you. Please just talk to me and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the trip if you want.”

As Miranda knocked and waited at Brienne’s door, Larissa passed her by to ascend the stairs to her room, speaking softly to Miranda, “Just leave her be. I don’t think she likes compliments.” Without another word, Larissa retired to her room, wanting a shower and a good night's sleep. Miranda wasn’t about to give up, the constable was prepared to sit outside the knight’s room all night if she had to.

“Hilmarson, if you have come to insult me even more, don’t, I got it the first time. And if you have come to apologize, I have no interest in hearing your excuses, own up to your words.” Brienne's voice was muffled on the other side of the door, so much that Miranda could barely make out what she was saying. There was a twinge of woe and hurt in the knight’s voice and she sounded so defeated, having given up on making friends with any of the women.

Larissa had insulted her, and so had Miranda, and Phasma was, well, Phasma, the captain had no interest in making any friends whatsoever and Lucifer was seldom there. Brienne had come to terms with that she would spend the rest of the week alone amongst people. Sure, she would socialize with them to stay civil, but she would not allow herself to hope.

“I want to apologize! But I need to know what I’m apologizing for! I don’t want to say anything to hurt you again, but I truly don’t understand.” Miranda leaned her forehead against the door as she spoke to the knight. She was trying her best to convey her most genuine of tones, but it was hard when Brienne couldn’t see the look on Miranda’s face, “I have no excuses for you.”

Brienne was unsure if she had the energy to indulge in this now, it had been a long day, and she wanted nothing more than to lay down in bed and get her hours in, to get this day over with.

Maybe Miranda hadn’t meant it in a hurtful way, maybe the knight had let her own insecurities and knowledge of how the world saw her take over. She was almost certain that the constable hadn’t meant to hurt her judging from her tone, but the Lord Commander couldn’t shake the forever gnawing feeling of humiliation lurking around every corner.

The knight opted for placing her sleep on hold for a few minutes, deciding that Miranda deserved an explanation and not the silent treatment. Brienne opened her door, the constable almost falling into her when she did, having to regain her balance, “Do you wish to do this in my doorway, or do you wish to come in?”

“I-I don’t want to intrude... I just- I don’t know what I said Brienne. I wanted you to know how great you were... Honest..” Miranda fidgeted with her hands, trying her best to stay calm in the terribly nerve-wracking situation. It took everything in her to meet Brienne’s gaze, but she knew she must if the knight were to believe her, “I, uhm, don’t have many friends so I try to avoid losing them when I find them...”

Brienne assessed the woman in front of her, looking for that usual sign that told her she was being made fun of, finding nothing remotely close to it inside Miranda’s eyes, “I will ask you one simple question. Did you mean what you said? Me being the coolest person on Earth and all that. Did you mean it?”

The constable didn’t hesitate with her answer, “Yes. I meant every word. You are truly one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met.” Miranda decided to keep her answer short, not wanting to get herself into any more trouble by continuing to speak. 

The knight smiled tenderly, “That was all I needed to know and I am trusting it to be the truth.” Brienne still couldn’t shake the nagging voice warning her of the inevitable derision that had become commonplace, but she decided to believe her new friend, praying she wouldn’t regret it. “Goodnight, Constable Hilmarson.”

Miranda nodded, “Night, Bri.” Brienne’s reaction wasn’t exactly as thorough as she expected, but Miranda knew she wasn’t entitled to much more. Rather than wait for the knight to close the door, Miranda flashed a smile and took her leave, deciding to adjourn back to her own room while she and Brienne were on a high note.  The knight had closed her door after the constable left, getting ready for bed and finally being able to lay down in a comfortable bed after one of the longest days in her life, Brienne was sure.

[s1lv3r-4rt]

FUN FACTS FROM STORMBRINGER BECAUSE I'M INSANE

also SB SPOILERS OBVS!!!

ALSO TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: MENTIONS OF DEATH, MENTIONS OF MURDER, MENTIONS OF TORTURE, DESCRIPTIONS IF HALLUCINATIONS, SEMI-GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF GORE, DESCRIPTIONS OF TORTURE! DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFY!

-the hat chūya wears during 15/just joined pm is NOT the same hat he wears at 22! he wears verlaine's now! because arahabaki is a bitch!

-doc went to school (at least med school) somewhere in north america! so he probably knows english!

-our chūya is very highly probably the clone! and n is his dad!

-if our chūya isn't the clone, he's not an orphan! we see him watching what seems to be his grandparents in the epilogue!

-his bike is from albatross!

-paul verlaine is actually arthur rimbaud's real name, but rimbaud gave it to our least favorite french assassin when he found him!

-rimlaine canon! (irl verlaine and rimbaud were dating/fucking i will NEVER not bring this up) (because bsd generally keeps relations accurate from irl (like dazai, oda, and ango hanging out at bar lupin))

-if you didn't know, verlaine trained kyōka and gin!

-bsd mary shelley is a scientist who made adam frankenstein! she is also so skrunkly and so swag!

-dazai is a fucking faggot! ("i'm always thinking of ways to annoy chūya.") (I CAN SAY THAT I'M BIROMANTIC AND HOMOSEXUAL AND TRANS I PROMISE)

-dazai, at least from 15-16, lived in a cargo container for transporting cars! he only had a bed, a fridge, a lamp, a desk and chair, and a spare light bulb! all the more reason to burn mori at the stake!

-shirase moved to britain! his and chūya's goodbye was really sweet after what they've been through!

-before becoming an executive, chūya was in charge of taking care of gem smugglers! which was dazai's job before rank climbing! silly little gays!

-chūya has a scar from where shirase stabbed him, as well as a scar on his right wrist with unknown origins (i think it's unknown reading the epilogue was a fucking blur)!

-verlaine is batshit! he was in the trunk of a car with a corpse (i think, he might have been sitting on the trunk lid/door thing)! and then said "*pops open trunk* this bad boy can fit so much lippmann"! and it was described horrifyingly! (smth along the lines of "he watched the body roll out of the trunk with a wet thunk. the body that was lippmann." i will shank asagiri and the translator i read it from /j) also! he open alb's fucking chest! his rib bones were just out in the open! doc's entire lower half was missing!

-pianoman's and iceman's bodies aren't described (lippmann's isn't either, but from the wet thunk we can infer), it's only noted that they're there and in the pile with alb and doc, but we can imagine the bullshit verlaine had to do to get those two down because! pianoman was the leader of the flags and was this 👌 fucking close to becoming an executive! and iceman murders people with his bare hands, fountain pens, hell, i'm pretty sure a table was on that list!

-adding onto that! at the funeral, chūya tells adam that it took the mortician 8 hours to get the bodies even presentable!

-chūya is a really good pool player! he's repeatedly called the "undefeated king" (or smth) by the other flags! the only person who could beat him was adam, and adam's a robot! chū's been playing for the least amount of time, as well as being up to 9 years younger than the others (pianoman was the oldest at 25, iceman is next oldest but we don't have any exact ages except for pianoman), so i guess he's just really good at playing with balls! (hehe)

-lippmann is a famous, FAMOUS actor! he is repeatedly referred to as attractive by the narrator and even doc! it's said that any woman falls for him, and if he were to dress as a woman, the men would fall too! we love an icon!

-lippmann also comments that chūya could/should join him as an actor if he leaves the pm!

-the flags were VERY well known before their deaths! lippmann was basically the face of the pm! iceman was a very well known assassin! albatross was the head of transportation! doc was the best doctor the pm had! pianoman was, again, LIKE 30 SECONDS AWAY FROM BECOMING AN EXECUTIVE! the only less well known one was chūya!

-and that was immediately revoked when he defeated fucking GUIVRE! HE DEFEATED (and to the public/government, killed) THE KING OF ASSASSINS! WHEN SAID KING OF ASSASSINS WAS A FUCKING GODZILLA BOOTLEG WITH THE POWER OF LIKE THREE GODS IN ONE BODY! it is outright stated that every single person in the pm knew of and respected chūya, and this was before he became an executive! he was 16!

-speaking of! he was 16! he had to watch as his brother murdered every person who mattered to him (except for dazai iykyk)! it doesn't matter that adam came back (epilogue)! he had to watch someone who is supposed to care for him destroy his entire life! verlaine is the one who unlocked chū's gate (the ability to use corruption/singularity form)! he is the one who broke chūya down to his fucking base, build him by about 0.5%, then break him even more! he had to learn that he may not even be human! he had to watch his original melt down to his bones before attempting to murder him! that's horrifying!

- speaking of... that^! the original(?) chūya was... let me just summarize it! he was in a cylinder of some kind of liquid, which n drained. that resulted on og chū starting ti fucking suffocate because he'd been in that shit for like- 9 years? maybe even longer! so he started dying. n gave our chū the remote, which resulted in our chū getting og chū out of the cylinder, only able to hold him as the flesh melted off of his fucking bones. imagine that. watching someone (almost) identical to you, your original, melt into nothing. the only thing left being the mush his skin turned into, his clothed skeleton, and the scientist who did it to him.

-hehe! verlaine murdered n by stepping on him (as guivre, but honestly if verlaine wanted to ste-)!

-while in the lab being tortured, chūya has some hallucinations! dazai being a little shit, shirase blaming him for everything that happened to the sheep (and he was joined by the sheep members for a moment), then the flags! the flags, mainly pianoman, told chūya that it wasn't his fault (i think) and that chūya needs to keep going! then verlaine pops up, and chū thinks he's a hallucination until he frees chū!

-speaking of chū's torture! he was chained to a wall with shackles that had barbed wire on the inside, stakes through bullet wounds that would electrocute him, and tubes in his back administering poison(s)! it was genuinely heartbreaking to read as chūya's screams filled mot only the room he was in, but also the entire lab!

-albatross is the one who taught chūya to swim!

[moral-terpitude]

Misadventures - Part 14

cause you don't even know you're an angel • foolish am I for the times I come and go •these stars defy love, so I close my eyes • and sleep inside your worn-in bed outline

[Masterlist] [Series Masterlist]

A/N: I’m not blowing my 10,000 word load at once, y’all might have to wait until tomorrow for Christmas fic. Sorry 😂

Misadvetures taglist: @cillmequick @emotionalcadaver @zablife @raincoffeeandfandoms

Summary: Finally there are answered questions.

Word Count: 6,026

Warnings: sex, umm, I dunno all the usual shit here. If you’ve made it this far I’m sure you know what I mean. (I know that’s a cop out but really nothing bad happens and I don’t feel like reading all thru it again.)

Quinn stood with her hip resting against the fridge, the only light bathing the kitchen coming from its yellowed bulb above the sink, as she looked for a snack.

Hannah was gone for the weekend, some mention of something about Eric (whoever this one was, Quinn wasn’t quite sure) and going to Atlantic City, and Quinn had avoided making dinner out of sheer stubbornness in favor of laying in bed with Mr. Bee and watching a documentary about the Chauvet Cave instead.

It was a better trade. Less mess. She had a lot of rest to catch up on.

She sighed, flipping open the package of peppered salami and retrieving the Ritz crackers, and allowing herself to stand there in the old, and now rather faded, Metallica shirt and her underwear and eat.

There was no sense in dirtying a plate and taking it back to bed when she was already right there.

Two weeks of German food and two weeks of takeaway salads to attempt to balance it out had her famished. She was over it. If it wasn’t so late she would have hauled her ass to Katz’s and gotten—

Her phone vibrating on the counter pulled out of her internal turmoil considering if it was too late to order anything from anywhere at all as her eyes flicked to the screen, the phone threatening to throw itself off of the counter if it rang for too long.

Tommy

She felt her mouth turn down at the corner, lips pressed thin, as she continued to watch it ring, letting it go to voicemail instead of picking up and hearing what he had to say.

In the entire time since she had stormed out of the apartment, he had done as she said, she hadn’t heard a peep from him, and there was something about it that almost pissed her off in a way.

He hadn’t tried to sway her, hadn’t tried to fight for her.

He had done exactly as she asked.

And she hated it.

Maybe, she let her mind entertain the thought, maybe he didn’t actually care. Maybe all she was to him was a consistent way to get laid. What other reason would he have let it go on this long without trying to contact her?

The phone vibrated again, a message, thankfully no voicemail. She wanted to give in, wanted to know what he had to say after all this time, but also felt too stubborn to call him back.

She sighed, laughing to herself, all this time? Really, Quinn? It’s been a month, and returned to staring into the void of the fridge for an unknown period of time until she heard three quick knocks on the door.

Moving from her spot, she swung the door shut behind herself, the wooden floor creaking as she crossed to the door, brow furrowed.

She stood on her tip toes, fingertips quietly finding a home against the door, as she felt her lashes brush against the paint, eye struggling to focus with her lack of glasses for a moment before he finally came to focus in the small glass globe.

Tommy stood looking off to the side with a manilla folder tucked under his arm. He looked rather unbothered at the concept of being stuck waiting in the hall, and the spiteful part of Quinn felt like pretending she wasn’t even there.

She debated making him wait longer, maybe knock again, but her heart got the best of her as she cracked open the door, leaving the security chain across the gap to see Tommy, truly standing there in the flesh, waiting patiently.

“Hi,” Quinn whispered. Her stomach flipped and she felt her ears get warm, finally seeing him again reminding her how much she missed him.

“I don’t suppose I can come in?”

Quinn nodded, closing the door briefly to slide the chain from the lock, before retreating back to the kitchen to toss the crackers back in the cupboard.

By comparison of his attire, she was severely underdressed for whatever the occasion warranted.

“What have you been doing?” His voice was low as he asked, dress shoes clacking the five short steps he took to lean against the counter.

“In what way?” She chuckled, a smile that she didn’t want to give in to beginning to form as she continued, “I mean, I’m standing here in my pajamas eating cold cuts out of the fridge, it’s not like anything crazy is happening here.”

He smiled softly, nodding.

“Shouldn’t be letting you see me like this,” she mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of the shirt as she leant against the counter.

“Why?” His brows furrowed. She noted he had gotten a haircut in the last few weeks, still shaved short on the sides but the top was slightly shorter than usual.

“Ruins the illusion that there’s something you’re missing out on I suppose.”

There was silence, for a brief moment. Quinn wondered what the purpose of the visit was. She would have liked to let him believe that there were throws of men waiting in the shadows, but, that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

The only male presence she had much conversation with lately had been her dad.

Dalton had been in one of his spurts of radio silence.

From the folder she gathered there was something important going on, but the uneasiness of the unknown still lingered in the back of her mind.

“You changed your hair.”

“Oh,” the statement, although simple, caught her off guard. The fact that he noticed the change at all was interesting, “yeah, Johanna’s sister does hair and wanted a tattoo while I was there, so we did a trade.”

Quinn felt like Mika had gotten the short end of the stick, but after installing the new set of extensions and dying everything to match they both had put in close to the same amount of time on eachother, and Mika had been thrilled, so Quinn accepted the fact that a trade was a trade.

It made her feel better being somewhat close to being back to herself again. Less exposed.

“How was your trip?”

“Good. Three steady days jam packed with work and being drug around sight seeing had me wore out. Ate too much food. Joanna and Bronze both like cooking as much as I do but I made them take me to get Doner and Schnitzel, on two separate nights of course, so we had a good time.”

“Johanna is your friend, so you met her through your work. What does he do?”

The pair sat at the table as if the conversation was normal, as if over the last month nothing had happened and they were picking right back up where they left off, as if it was all part of the plan.

“Bronze. They. Bronze uses they/them pronouns, so,” she shook her head, the correction coming out of habit.

“Okay,” Tommy nodded, “what do they do?”

“They are a multimedia and multidisciplinary artist. When I was there, the project they were working on was some kind of welded installation that I really can’t even begin to explain.”

Tommy hummed, nodding, as silence fell between the two of them again. Quinn swallowed hard. There wasn’t much more to make small talk about.

“If you can believe it, I listened to what you said. Took it as a piece of advice.”

Tommy handed the folder over. It was unlabeled, and Quinn’s curiosity was piqued as she flipped it open, biting back the quickly formed retort that wanted to escape, figuring it was for the best to keep her comments about Tommy’s bullheadedness to herself.

She looked down at the sheet, the first one in the stack, some not so fancy printed seal decorating the top, as her eyes wandered down the page.

Tommy rose from the chair, pacing the small amount of floor space in the kitchen, before settling against the counter again, hands crammed deep in his pockets.

“ ‘Before district judge Shorthose, sitting at the Principal Registry of the Family Division, in the Priory Courts, 33 Bull Street, Birmingham’,” Quinn shook her head, trying to not read ahead as her eyes skipped over the gap to the next line.

The document looked rather official and her heart hammered in her chest, throat feeling tight, as she continued.

“ ‘Between Thomas Michael Shelby, Petitioner, Elizabeth Eileen Shelby, Respondent, and Angel Lorenzo Changretta,” Quinn paused, never until that point having a personality to picture as to whoever Lizzie had betrayed Tommy with, not that she could ever picture her at all either, “ ‘Co-Respondent’.”

She swallowed, her eyes glossing over the rest of it, “ ‘Made final and absolute that the said marriage was thereby dissolved August 26, 2022.’ “

She looked up at him, brow furrowed, “That was Friday.”

“That it was.”

Quinn sat at the small kitchen table, flipping through the papers.

“I was surprised to find that she wasn’t purposefully halting the process. The inquiry for the paternity test was filed under ‘curiosity’ instead of ‘legal’ which would have given it a higher precedent. I went there, did some pushing, and they expedited the process considerably.”

Tommy leaned against the counter, not wanting to explain that the pushing was of money into people’s hands, as he fidgeted with the lighter, desperate to use it even though he knew he wasn’t allowed to while he was inside at their residence.

“So, Ruby’s yours?”

She tried to read the nonsense on the page and make sense of it, but her head was honestly swimming at the information and she wouldn’t be deciphering the graphs and decimal points any time soon.

“Yes, she’s mine.”

Quinn smiled a tad and cleared her throat, a strange feeling of relief washing over her. She felt his eyes on her as she closed the folder, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.

Tommy took in her form, wearing yet again a shirt far too big for her, the loose wave of her hair tousled from, if he had to guess from her heavy unmade eyes and lack of glasses, what he assumed was a nap.

Too early for her to be considering sleep. It was late but not that late. She was always so stubborn to turn in. Some nights she’d choose to nod off on the couch while he finished a little bit of work instead of turning in alone.

“When did you get back?” She quizzed, stretching her back, arms above her head before letting her hands fall back into her lap.

“About an hour ago.”

“So you came straight here?”

“Yes. I came straight here.”

“Why?”

Tommy paused, the bluntness of the question catching him by surprise.

Quinn knew Tommy. She knew how much he enjoyed being correct in the conversations he had with his brothers that she had overheard, that it was no surprise he was there to prove her wrong about something.

She had left in much of a storm of chaos the last time they had seen each other, and they hadn’t spoken, so she wouldn’t blame him if he came to rub it in.

“I came here because you’re here.”

“Just because you knew where to find me?”

He cleared his throat, a smile creeping onto his features as she continued to use his own tactic of flipping the question back around against him, “Because I miss…” he chuckled, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling, “I miss having to fight for the covers. I miss waking up to short breaths on the back of my neck or your cheek pressed between my shoulders and not being able to move without waking you up.”

She smiled, tucking her hand in her hair at the nape of her neck as she listened.

“I miss the questions you ask to try and understand what I do, even if the answers aren’t always clear, because they can’t be, because sometimes me business is complicated.”

She heard the pitter patter of tiny paws on the floor as Beelzebub wandered sleepily down the hallway, no doubt wondering where his human heater had went off to.

“I miss knowing that you’re there. That if I call you’ll pick up and tell me something about your day. The silence of not wanting to bother you before I had all the answers was beginning to be unbearable.”

Tommy paused, mouth dry, when he saw her watching him intently. She looked more beautiful than he could put into words, the way the light from over the sink cast shadows along her legs, the way she was stretched out without a care in the world in just an old tee shirt.

Chiaroscuro. That was what she had called it, looking through an old textbook on the couch one night for a reference photo for a drawing she had intended to start, one that she knew was in there somewhere but couldn’t quite remember the name. Talking fondly of Baglione and Caravaggio and the way they used light and dark to portray the drama and beauty in their work.

He felt like maybe he understood the way she talked about it all now.

“Should I continue?”

Quinn shook her head, a small shrug accompanying it. “I was just sitting here trying to decide how long I was going to make you grovel for.”

Tommy chuckled, vacating the spot he had been leaned against, and Quinn realized all her brazenness had evaporated from the firmness of her previous statement as she continued.

“I…I was watching a documentary. You can stay. If you want, I mean—“

He shrugged out of the jacket, removing the cap from his head and tucking it in the pocket before draping it over the back of the chair. The way he hung his head, the curvature of his shoulders, the way the light cast its shadows, she had seen things in museums that couldn’t hold a candle to him.

“Your car will get towed, if it’s not in the parking garage. I can make some tea or something while you move it.”

He hummed, closing the space between them before offering a hand to pull her up from the chair, “I had some optimism that you wouldn’t send me away when I got here, so it already is.”

She rolled her eyes, fighting a smile, as she took his hand, pulling him behind her down the hall, soft footfalls following the trot of her tiny companion leading the way.

“You’re just full of yourself tonight, aren’t you?”

She wasn’t prepared for how close he was, arms encircling her waist before whispering the words gently against the side of her neck, voice much lower than it had been when they were simply conversing, “It is a problem at times.”

She shivered as the goose bumps rose across the parts of her skin that weren’t flush.

Beelzebub hopped up on the foot of the bed, nudging at Tommy’s hand as he toed off his shoes.

“Are you going to be nice today? Little bugger.” Tommy skritched him behind the ears hesitantly, at first, before he was allowed to touch the cat under the chin, the loud purr echoing through the room.

Quinn settled herself against the pillows, watching with heavy eyes as he undressed, something familiar and comforting in the way he let himself relax in her space, wandering to the dresser with the clothes all half off, belt undone but still through the loops, shirt unbuttoned but still on, tie laying at the foot of the bed somewhere, and searched for clothes that either were his or would fit.

He ended up in only his cotton undershirt and the Champion shorts he had pilfered from the back of one of the drawers.

Quinn had picked them up at an estate sale back home. From the look of them, they were from the 1998-1999 Detroit Pistons season, the alternate color scheme of teal, red, and black.

She couldn’t blame him. They were comfortable.

She’d never admit it, but she was slightly jealous that somehow his ass looked better in them than hers did.

His weight sank the bed as he settled between her thighs, head resting on her stomach as they both tried to get comfortable, arms wrapping around her waist.

Quinn inferred, anticipating that he wouldn’t say it directly, but from everything else he had said she could gather that he missed her.

There was comfort in the way he held on to her.

“How was your family?” She whispered, the words partly ate up by the darkness of the room, as she ran her fingers through the longest part of his hair.

“Difficult as usual. John and Esme are having another baby, Arthur can’t decide which to worship more, God or a bottle, and Ada’s husband just got put on a new assignment out of the country, so, Polly is going to be staying with her for a few weeks to help get things ready for the baby.”

Quinn felt her heart clench. Two little babies on the way with their tiny toes and fingers and noses.

She swallowed hard before speaking, “You should’ve stayed if they needed you.”

Her eyes were slipping closed as she felt Mr. Bee lay down next to her foot, close enough that she could feel him purring.

Her hands wandered under the collar of Tommy’s undershirt, the familiar planes of his shoulders bringing comfort to her.

He was here, with her, really and truly.

“They get on fine by themselves. I was able to see Charlie. And Ruby. She’s getting tall. Lost another tooth.”

Quinn smiled, the thought of Tommy having to play tooth fairy rather amusing her, “Were they happy to see you?”

He sighed, and Quinn let her eyes slipped closed as he nuzzled at her stomach, something she wasn’t even sure he realized he was doing as he got comfortable, “Charlie is rather indifferent to everything at his age. Ruby still shows it. Woke up with her on the other side of the bed every morning. She isn’t fond of being far away when we’re at the house.”

She hummed, enjoying the heat radiating from him, palms pressed into her skin, and no complaints as she took advantage of being able to put her cold feet on him.

“She sounds really sweet, Tommy.”

She yawned, settling into the pillows. The relief of sleeping in her own bed was something she always looked forward to after traveling.

There was silence, and for a moment she wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

“I’d like for you to meet them.”

“Who?” She was half dozed off when he started to speak again, and she had to take a minute to get her brain back on track with the conversation they had been having.

“Charlie and Ruby.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She paused before agreeing, heart thundering in her chest at the thought.

“When?”

“I was planning to go back again rather soon. The last horse race of the season is in September. Charlie’s birthday, too. Have to look at the calendar to see how it lines up.”

“Okay.”

“Will you come with me?”

She smoothed her fingers through his hair, trying to find the words under pressure that she was looking for. Did she want to meet them? Yes. She liked kids, but if she met them then that meant something serious. If she said no with no good reason, then that just made her sound like an asshole.

“Can I think on it and decide?”

“Yeah. If that’s what you want.”

Quinn was relieved when Tommy didn’t sound mad or disappointed by the notion of her needing to take some time to think.

As she started to fall asleep once again she tried to find the way to organize the words in her mind to be able to repeat them in the morning, but sleep got the best of her before any coherent thoughts came.

When she woke up, there was no ability for her to roll. Something heavy was on her.

Fucking cat—

Beelzebub wasn’t small, and he had a wonderful habit of curling up on her chest or into her side somewhere to make it impossible to move in the morning.

She took a breath, glancing down to see Tommy’s head on her chest, one leg over one of hers, in a position that surely had his feet hanging off the foot of the bed.

Oh.

She ran her fingers through the shortest part of his hair, stopping somewhere around the crown of his head and just enjoying the weight of him on her.

They hadn’t had sex and he had still stayed. A change of pattern from anything she had considered usual for them.

She let her eyes close, realizing there was immense comfort in the silence.

She slipped her other hand along his back, the shirt apparently having been the straw that broke the camel's back in the night of being too warm, the heat of his bare skin familiar under her fingertips.

She tried not to laugh when he snored, peeking her eyes open, but the way Beelzebub’s ears shot up as he turned to look at Tommy was too comical.

So the snort escaped, rocking his head on her body as she tried to take a deep breath to stop but it was already too late.

He opened one eye, then the other, the confusion of waking in an unfamiliar room apparent on his face until he quickly surveyed where he was, eyes glancing up to meet hers and the suppressed smile she was toying with on her lips finally broke through as he looked severely less disgruntled with his resting place once he realized where he was.

“Hi,” Quinn whispered, realizing she had quite missed mornings like this, where there was no rush, no alarm, nothing to do.

Well, maybe one thing.

“Hi,” he sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes before leaning against the pillows, legs outstretched.

“So,” she cleared her throat as he pulled her close, her arm wrapping around his waist as she settled in comfortably, “can I be a normal, sane, and rational person and ask you what we’re doing?”

She chanced a glance up at him through her lashes before continuing, “If you want me to do something like meet your children and go to something that involves your business endeavors, I mean, I think I can guess, but, being left to wonder is not something I can do. Clearly.”

He chuckled, “Never would have gathered that.”

Quinn sighed, stomach grumbling as she checked the time on her phone, a little after 7AM.

“You know what I’m saying.”

Tommy nodded, “I do. Yes.”

“I am sorry, for freaking out. I just had people coming at me from every which way with their questions and opinions and it was kind of a lot.”

Tommy gave a small nod, and Quinn continued, “Now,” she squirmed and moved so she could see his face better, something about the heavy lidded look he gave her and their proximity combined with the comfortable lack of clothing stirring a familiar feeling in her stomach, “I am perfectly, happily, content not seeing other people,” she tried to breathe through the anxious fluttering feeling in her chest, knowing it would pass, “if that’s what you want. If it’s not, then I just need to know before we go any further without being on the same page.”

Quinn was relieved when he didn’t miss a beat, one hand cupping her face gently, thumb stroking her cheek, “I asked you to meet my children, I don’t think I could agree more.”

She smiled as he brushed his nose against hers, the thrum of blood rushing in her ears, the warm feeling of adrenaline and anticipation coursing through her body made her feel like she would turn to putty in an instant.

Quinn melted into the way Tommy’s hand found the back of her neck, holding her close enough to bring their lips together, a content sigh passing into his mouth as she welcomed his large hands roaming under her shirt.

She was always surprised how gentle he was with her, not in a demeaning way, not like she was a China doll, but purposeful and deliberate in his movements, laying his hands on her in such specific ways that kept her wanting more.

It didn’t take any convincing for her to find herself in his lap, happily letting him discard her shirt, now wrinkled with sleep as he hooked a finger around the waistband of her ribbed cotton underwear, free hand cradling her face as his eyes drank in every part of her.

She let her eyes close as his mouth met the skin of her neck, working agonizingly slowly across her skin as she pulled impatiently at the string in the waistband of the shorts, knowing damn well it wouldn’t do any good.

The light graze of teeth against her collarbone caught Quinn off guard; she felt goosebumps and a shiver run through her, something new, different, and judging by the aching and desperation for some kind of friction between her thighs, definitely not bad.

“Tommy, please,” she whispered, trying to sound anything but needy, but, it was useless.

“Please what, love?”

She could see the glittering sense of mischief in his eyes, boring a hole into her that sent a shiver straight into her stomach.

She barely spoke, the whispered, “need you,” coming out in a mumble between their lips while he worked on trying to inch the cotton down her legs, despite the position and knowing it wouldn’t work, enough to pull the offending garment to the side, fingers gently parting her, delighted to found how ready she was for him, soaked, wet, impatient and breathless from just the smallest touch.

She drug her nails through his hair, enough to make Tommy look up at her, teeth sunk into her bottom lip, face flush.

“Can’t wait,” she shook her head, fingers tucking into the waistband of the shorts, trying her best to be more than convincing, “need you. Now.”

She hadn’t had a doubt her words would work, he was already rock hard, constrained within fabric but pressing against her thigh, teasing her and taunting her.

Tommy realized, once he found himself buried inside her again, the feeling of no longer being unhole, a strange lonesome worry that sometime plagued his mind, the he regretted the few hours that his brain entertained the thought, late and left alone by the fire in his office after a few too many whiskeys and passing up the offer of dinner from Frances after his late arrival home, that maybe he wouldn’t fight that hard to resolve their situation.

As he was blessed with the sounds of grateful moans and quiet pants and hissed swear words coming from between Quinn’s lips, brows furrowed as he kept the steady rythym that had her toes curling into the sheets and fingers weaving into his hair, the pressure and sensation of everything combined keeping him in a place between reality and some strange sort of oblivion, he accepted, just as he had after sobering up late into the night as he tried to focus on numbers and percentages and charts that he didn’t give a fuck about at that moment, that just because she had been upset and he wasn’t used to not being able to have the final word, didn’t mean that the expression behind it, the root of what was truly upsetting Quinn, was wrong.

He pushed the rest of the thoughts away as best as he could, knowing that now he was able to enjoy what he had feared missing out on, not just the the wonderful way that he could tell just from the way her breath caught in her throat and her hands couldn’t seem to get enough traction on his skin anywhere to satisfy her, but the smell of her hair, and the pillows, and the sheets, and everything that made her endearing and interesting were all things that, once he added them up, he realized he couldn’t live without.

That, and, if he would have missed out on finding out how far they could make it together a second time (arguably the first time they met would have been ill fated and messy if he had managed in any capacity to find her again on purpose) he would have never let himself live it down.

“Tommy,” the sound of his name coming from her lips ripped him back into reality, her soft fingers stroking his cheek, buried to the hilt inside her, the sensation of her cunt clamped around him like a vice, ready to milk every last drop he could give her, had him ready to empty himself out inside her, “is everything okay?”

He took a steadying breath, leaning into her touch, kissing her palm before working his lips down her arm, face nuzzling into her neck, heavy breaths fanning her skin and causing her to shudder, “hmm, yeah, more than just okay, love.”

Quinn was exhausted by the time they finally collapsed beneath the sheets, welcome to the change of Tommy’s arms caged around her from behind as he pulled her close to his chest, making sure she fit just so under his chin before she burrowed them under the blanket.

There was comfortable silence while she felt her heart beat return to normal, fingers idly drawing patterns on his skin while she felt her eyes grow heavy.

“Could I ask you something?”

“Hmm, that depends,” Quinn whispered, “but I feel like you’re going to ask anyway.”

Tommy chuckled, lips pressing gently to her bare shoulder as she wiggled to get closer, if at all possible.

“How many times?”

Quinn paused, eyes rolling in her head as she tried to pinpoint exactly what the question was asking. She thought about it for a moment before shrugging, “How many times, what?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Depends on what you're asking about,” she chuckled, turning in his arms so they could be face to face.

The question could’ve been about anything really.

How many times he had made her finish, how many times she had visited friends out of the country, instances of her sisters being mean to her, how many times Gerard had hurt her—

“The night at the bar, you told Hannah you weren’t sharing,” she started to grin as he spoke, nose creasing, “just trying to figure out how many times you did.”

“Why? Do you want to fuck me and Hannah?”

He shook his head, seriousness cracking with a half smile, “No, just trying to satisfy me own curiosity,” he chuckled before continuing, “maybe to keep an ace up me sleeve in case the little Russian heiress we do business with starts trying to invite me to orgies again.”

Quinn snorted, amused in a way at the thought of him trapped in that situation and attempting to talk his way out of it, “Well, what a life you live, Tommy Shelby.”

He smiled, taking an interest in the way her reaction was slightly less explosive and resentful than what he would have expected in comparison to anyone else.

“You’re not going alone if she does though, nice try.” Quinn yawned through the words, proud of herself for being able to take a joke, as she stretched under the blanket, settling back into a comfortable position as she felt the reminder of part of their escapades begin to leak down her thigh.

“Never said I would.”

“Actually, though, four. The first time was just something that happened and was fun, and by the fourth time we just realized what a lot of work it was to make it happen. I also think Hannah started seeing someone, so that might’ve been it too.”

Her brows drew together while she took in his expression, content with the information she had disposed to him.

“My turn for questions,” Quinn cleared her throat, fingers fiddling with the blankets absentmindedly, trying to hide any little bit of jealousy deep down inside, “was there anyone, while you were back home?”

The words felt silly once she said them, she realized. What did it matter? They were here, now, together. Was something that happened in between enough to make a difference?

He shook his head, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead as a crease formed between his brows, “No,” it came out as a whisper, maybe less convincing that it could have been if it was a tad louder, but it was the truth, “no one.”

Quinn nodded, settling in to the way he held her, something that she thought, maybe, she would never get enough of, hearing the thrum of his heart in her ear as she settled on his chest, the way that his fingertips kneaded into her flesh, slowing as time passed but still lasting until Quinn found her eyes slipping closed.

The silence was cozy as she felt herself dozing back off to sleep, content in the fact that she finally had a real answer to what was happening between them, and relieved at herself for communicating it in a way that didn’t make her sound immature.

When Quinn woke up again, the bed was empty.

She pushed out from under the covers, grabbing blindly for her glasses and a sweater, making a mad dash to the bathroom to clean up as much as she could without making a mess.

Turning on the shower and throwing herself in seemed to be the best bet, doing her best to keep her hair dry before haphazardly toweling off and pulling on the sweater.

She opened the bathroom door, greeted by the smell of something burnt. Not actively burning, not a fire, just burnt.

Tommy was partly dressed, back in the shorts and shirt, standing with his back to her, with a burnt pile of pancakes cooling on a plate next to the stove.

She watched as he flipped another one, swearing when the bottom was charred, and tossing it on the plate with the others with a huff.

“It runs hot,” Quinn spoke, moving to the coffee maker, thankful to see the carafe already full before rummaging around in the cupboard for her favorite mug, one from the DIA with Diego Rivera’s Detroit Industry Mural wrapped around the outside.

“What?”

“The stove runs hot. Something is wrong with the thermostat or something, but we’re just used to it.”

She took a sip of the liquid, heat pooling contently in her stomach, and motioned for him to hand her the spatula.

“You have to watch,” she poured the batter out onto the pan, only enough for one pancake left at that point, “and as soon as the last little bubble evaporates,” she gestured at the edge of the round batter where the last few bubbles came to the surface, before wiggling the spatula carefully underneath the cooked edge, “then you can flip it.”

It landed on the pan with a satisfying thwack and Tommy hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, a hand slowly drawing circles into her back, “That was the last of your flour, love. So, unless you know something I don’t about where to find more, you should put pants on.”

“For?” Quinn sipped at the coffee, leaning into his side, as she shut off the burner.

“Well, you have two eggs—”

“Those are Hannah’s.” Quinn interjected.

“--and no bread,” Tommy continued, “so, it looks like we’re going to get breakfast.”

“Ooh,” Quinn whistled, continuing on sarcastically as she sipped her coffee, “is that, like, you asking me on a date?”

Tommy chuckled as she wandered off down the hall, swaying her hips in an exaggerated fashion before she reached the door to the bedroom.

��We won’t be going anywhere if you keep that up.”

Quinn hummed, rounding the corner into her room before peeking back to see if he followed at all, “I mean,” she called, pulling off the sweater in her search for presentable clothes, “I can’t say I’d complain!”

Well…that took me far too long to get out! Let me know if you liked it or not, I guess 😂

[cdyssey]

Light Bulb (1.02):

Barb and Mel’s cute little run to catch the news. 😭

“Now I’m a proud, married Christian woman and I love my husband, but there’s something about that Jim Gardner, that non-regional diction.” ANDNWKQKSJJS

Janine’s seat being all the way up is so fucking relatable. I have to mine so close to the wheel too ‘cos I’m 4’11.

Melissa being on the other side of the fridge when Jacob closing it, clearly using the vending machine glass to retouch her makeup. I love her, ur honor

“I’mma look cuter than her too.” *Winks at Barbara.*

Barbara @ Janine: “What are you wearing?” QKQOQOQKSNSNAN

Goddddd, that green shirt looks so good on Barbara.

“Um, it’s nine.” / “Word.” Lmaooo.

“Y’all are gettin’ this, right?” AKANSNSNSNSN.

Barbara seeing Gregory staring at Janine, and just clocking him on the spot. Barbara instantly inviting him in when he wants to ask some advice. That’s her work son!!!

“Okay, then bring your little Nissan sandwich with you.” AKQKSNWJIEEIJS

Janine being afraid of heights always makes me so tender. The way she tackles the ladder anyway. Ugh, ugh, ugh.

SNDJSJDJS, Quinta’s delivery of “DON’T SHAKE THE LADDER.”

Ava being a Doomsday prepper is such a fun detail for her. It’s so out of left field.

Barbara being the administrator, calm and efficient in times of crisis.

Barbara calling Janine baby girl is something that can be so personal 2 me.

“OH, JESUS, MY BRANZINO. EVERYBODY OUT OF THE WAY. OUT OF THE WAY.” QOOQOQKSNSWJEJJSSJ.

Gregory helping her off the ladder. 😭😭😭

“It’s unsanitary.” QNWNWNNSWN

Barbara and Gregory in the nail salon are soooo fucking funny. The way he keeps looking at her for assistance. “Help me, Mom.”

“Can I get some rhinestones that say I’m not afraid of awkward interactions?” / “Literally or metaphorically? ‘Cause I can do that design. It’ll just be fifty dollars extra. / “Fift—“ AQNWKWOWODJDJDJ

“It was a chance to support a strong Black woman.” AOQNSNSNSN

“Did you eat today ‘cuz I know you didn’t have lunch?” 😭😭

LOSE IT AT MELISSA PUSHING BARB INTO THE WALL EVERY TIME FIEJDNSNS. GOD

Lmao, at Ava suntanning outside.

“Well, as Melissa would say, snitches get stitches.”

Barbara giving Melissa the Play Nice Look.

“So you’ve got to learn how to say what you need to get what you want.” this line did so much for the Teddie and WW fandom

Ughdhdhsh, Gregory asking Janine to get something to eat. Their chemistry was so good from the jump.

Gregory fixing the poster bc he’s not the type of guy who likes to leave things unfinished or half-done either. :’)

After School Crew!!

Ava in that outfit in the end stinger. AWOUGHSHWHSAA.

[jackactuallywrites]

Peace Amidst Chaos

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Original Female Character Rating: Mature (mostly for the setting) Warnings: MC is a sex worker Summary: In an alternate 90s universe, Sergeant Simon 'Ghost' Riley goes to a peep show and unexpectedly finds solace there Notes: This one is third person! But Kitty can be a self insert ez Special Thanks: Darling Deer, my beta reader! And Core always <3 Word count: 2,257 ao3 link

Sitting in the stall, filing her nails as she waited for the kettle to boil, idly listening to the sound of sex through the thin walls, it was hard to remember a time when Kitty had felt out of place here. It had only been a year or two since those early days when she had cringed at every smutty noise and flinched at every loud sound, but she had soon found herself a home here, constructing a thick skin to protect herself like every other resident here, but most importantly, she had found her family. 

It was a family like most others in the city, made out of those who had lost their families elsewhere and had come to forge new, stronger bonds, one that could no doubt be found in a thousand apartments across the city, but still, it was special to her. After all, she was only here because of her newfound family, able to earn her own living rather than being penniless out on the streets; the debt owed to Dolly and Rose not only counted in gratitude but in the very clothes on her back, right down to the skimpy lingerie she was wearing underneath one of Rose's luxurious dressing gowns.  

The kettle squealed as the water boiled, and Kitty lazily pushed herself off the counter where she'd been sitting, her bare feet slapping on the linoleum floor as she walked over to take the kettle off the heat, pouring it into the waiting metal flask, before setting it back on the hob on a lower flame, knowing that sooner or later someone else would want a fresh brew. 

In the brief time between taking the teabag out of the mug, tossing it, and then going to the fridge to get the milk, Rose entered the small kitchen that served as the break room, punctuating his entrance with a small twirl, his baby blue chiffon robe twirling out around his waist. "Kitty! You made one for me?" She smiled at him, fetching his mug from the cupboard and setting it down beside her own, dropping in a teabag and pouring in the boiling water, taking the teaspoon out of her mug to stir his, "As always, Rosie. Good night so far?" He shrugged casually, tall enough to grab the sugar from the top shelf that Kitty had had to step up on her tiptoes to get, "So so. Pretty quiet. Military guys don't dare indulge themselves with all their mates around. You?" Kitty squeezed the teabag before tossing it in the bin, "Not bad. Enough to buy dinner for us tonight." 

Their brief reverie was broken by the sound of the buzzer, and they glanced up at the board to see which one was lighting up. Kitty groaned at the sight of the bright red bulb underneath the number three, screwing the top and attached cup on her flask and then quickly slipping into her black strappy heels. Rose bent down to press a kiss to Kitty's cheek as she straightened up before leaning back against the counter, lifting his mug to her in a salute as she trotted out of the kitchen and down the tight hallway, passing a dozen slim doors until she reached the one with the bronze three screwed to the thin wood beneath the slightly peeling green paint.

 It was generous to call the small space Kitty worked out of a room; it was little more than a concrete cupboard, the door whacking against the wall every time she came in. With it closed behind her, it was more than a little claustrophobic, three feet by three feet, if that, with half the room taken up by the small camping stool she unfolded in the middle, placing her flask down on the floor by her feet. She grabbed the compact mirror she left on the thin beige carpet beside her emergency book for slow nights and then sat on the stool, inspecting her face to make sure her large false eyelashes were still properly attached and her lipstick perfectly smudge free. 

The rattle of the coin in the slot snapped Kitty to attention, leaving her just enough time to flip her compact closed and drop it on the floor by her flask before the thin metal frame that covered the thick glass window in front of her began to rise, rattling a little in the frame as it did so. She shrugged out of her warm gown, letting it hang around her shoulders, revealing the slope of her neck and the delicate lacy straps of her purple lingerie, offsetting her pale skin perfectly. She adjusted the cups of her bra to make her boobs sit higher, shaking out her long dark hair before finally turning her attention to the brief light she could now see coming from underneath the rising metal plate.

It wasn't unusual for the first thing she got a glimpse of to be a dick; after all, this was why most men came here, to get a quick fix staring at whoever was behind the glass, yet this man seemed to have at least a little patience; having not even unzipped his dark blue jeans. Kitty did her best to arch her back and stick her chest out, striking a classic seductive pose as the cover rose further, revealing more of the man on the other side, the dark grey of his fleece, typical military attire. There was nothing particularly remarkable about him until the frame rose high enough for her to see his face. 

What was remarkable about his face was that she couldn't see it. The man was wearing a black knit balaclava with a white skull painted on the fabric, his eyes covered by a pair of sunglasses. It was more than a little intimidating, but Kitty was here to do a job, so she brushed off the unease and leant forward, leaning her hands on her legs and pressing her elbows into her chest to make it even more prominent, tilting her head at the man, teasing the strap of her bra down her shoulder. Still, he remained motionless; she couldn't even tell if he was ogling her from underneath his shades. 

Of course, it was her job to coax the shyer ones out of their shells, to encourage them to piss away their money on getting a longer look at her, so she continued on her quest, letting her robe slip off her onto the stool, revealing the entirety of her body to the man on the other side, waiting to see if that elicited any sort of reaction from him, yet still, he didn't move an inch. It didn't seem as though any part of him was excited by her; when she let her eyes drop down to his crotch, playing up as though she was desperately attracted to him, she could see that there was nothing pressing up against the fabric of his jeans. 

Even with the shy ones, there was always some hint of arousal, but this man was giving her nothing, not a single shred of desire to work with. Kitty kept her face alluring, but the gears in her brain were spinning, trying to figure out her next angle. Her voice flowed with the sultry quality that had become second nature to her as she looked over the man again, trying to find a new avenue to get to him, "What's your name, darling?" The man shifted in his seat, folding his arms across his chest, his voice deep and hoarse, "Ghost." It wasn't unusual for those who came in to give a false name; after all, Kitty herself was using a pseudonym, so she rolled with it, letting the name roll off her tongue as though it was the most seductive word ever invented, "Ghost. What brings you here tonight?" He shrugged non-committally, his tone flat. "Lads are out on the town." 

With a grinding sound, the metal shutter began to slide back down, coming down far quicker than it had risen. There was just enough time for Kitty to blow a kiss to Ghost, her usual parting gift, before he was gone from view, bringing the slightly strange encounter to an end. It would be at least a minute until the next patron came in, so Kitty took the opportunity to lean down and grab her flask, quickly unscrewing the top to take a sip of the still-scalding hot tea as she listened for the tell-tale sound of the curtain being pulled open and closed on the other side of the glass.

Coins rattled in the other side of the booth as they were pushed in once more, and Kitty cursed under her breath; she hadn't heard the curtain go, so she still had the flask cup in her hands, the main body of the flask pressed between her thighs. There wasn't enough time to put it away, and she never liked to look rushed, always wanting to seem at ease, perfectly comfortable with every situation, so she kept the cup in her hands as she watched the metal barrier go up, idly taking another sip. 

To Kitty's surprise, Ghost was still sitting on the other side, settling back into his seat after having leaned forward to put more coins in. She hadn't expected to see him again that night, assuming he was only there for the bare minimum required to fit in with the lads or that he would have gone to find someone more suited to his particular taste. "Back so soon?" She questioned playfully, going to screw the top of her flask back on. Ghost shrugged again, a seemingly common gesture for the man, gesturing towards her flask with his hand, "Don't stop on my account." 

The realisation dawned on her then; she had dealt with this type of patron before, the types that wanted to show kindness, to feel as though they were a good person, 'saving' her from having to show her body, as though that wasn't explicitly what she signed up for, never mind the fact that she preferred not to have to make conversation; she hadn't mastered the easy chitchat that seemed to come so easily to the others. Regardless, it made little difference to her; she would get paid either way. Kitty settled onto her little stool more comfortably, pulling the sleeves of her gown back up and wrapping the tie more firmly around her waist. She took a sip of her tea, then looked at Ghost, feigning curiosity, knowing that what these saviours truly wanted was to have their egos stroked. 

"So," Kitty began, as though she hadn't already clocked the answer, "What do you do?" "’M a Soldier." She smiled at him, "So you go halfway across the world and risk your life to protect people like me?" When he only shrugged in response to her question, Kitty's smile dropped a little. If there was one thing she knew, it was that soldiers loved to talk about themselves, to big up their achievements and make it sound as though they were the only things standing between the functioning world and sheer anarchy. She tried again, deciding to hedge her bets that this was a man who had very specific tastes. "Is there anything in particular you'd like me to do for you, Ghost?" He shifted in his seat, and Kitty waited to hear the no doubt perverted request he had come here to sate. 

"Talk."

Though Kitty liked to consider herself a professional, her brow raised quizzically at Ghost's request; usually, the men who wanted simple company went to someone who could actually sit with them for hours rather than one who was stuck behind glass, unable to be touched. She wasn't about to turn down an easy opportunity to make money, though, so she merely tilted her head to one side questioningly, "Would you like me to talk about anything in particular?" Yet again, he shrugged. "Surprise me." 

Even with her closest friends, Kitty struggled in conversations, and here was a complete stranger asking her to talk, putting the onus of the topic entirely on her. Her eyes flicked down to where she kept her book stashed, and she leaned down to grab it, holding it up so Ghost could see the cover, "How about Bram Stoker's Dracula?" He dipped his head in a slight nod. "Go ahead." Kitty settled herself more comfortably on her stool, slipping off her heels and crossing one leg over the other as she flipped through to the first page of the book, mostly tuning Ghost out entirely as she began to read, allowing herself to become immersed in the words.

For the next half hour, the only sounds in their small booth, other than the ever-present grunts and groans from elsewhere, were the sounds of Kitty reading, occasionally punctuated with the turning of a page, and the gentle clink of Ghost putting more coins in the slot. She wasn’t sure she’d ever had a client in for this long before; at times, she almost forgot he was there entirely, so enraptured in her book, only ever reminded of his presence when he topped up the remaining time with a coin or two. It was only when the metal shield came out with that familiar grinding sound that Kitty finally looked up from her book, her last sight of Ghost him with his hands crossed over his chest, rising and falling with his soft, slow breath. 

[victorluvsalice]

We've reached Spring Tuesday in the Chill Valicer Save! And, as promised, today features Victor getting HIS occult on -- along with a trip to a festival! :D But first, of course, we have to get through everyone's morning chores on the farm...

-->Started off by having Alice go and plan outfits for everybody (after recovering from getting spooked by the house making creepy noises) so I could give Shock and Surprise different collars and finally have a way to tell them apart at a glance – Shock has a purple bow tie collar, while Surprise has a normal green collar. I also gave them both a Spookfest costume – Shock is a piece of sushi, while Surprise is a gladiator. XD I also took probably more time than I really should have searching out a new shirt for Smiler’s very first everyday outfit – while I really like the pattern on the shirt I originally chose for them, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s just a bit too orange to be on-brand. And as I have absolutely NO experience with recoloring clothing... I eventually settled on a yellow shirt with a light bulb on it, that I’m pretty sure Smiler unlocked at some point from somewhere. (From being part of the Bot Savants at college, perhaps?) *shrug* It was the best option I had! There are surprisingly few good yellow swatches in this game...anyway, you'll see that later!

-->With that sorted, I returned to actual gameplay, having Alice grab Encyclopedia Vampirica Vol 2 to read (she chose to do so out on the porch next to a napping Shadow -- the gang really likes sitting with their pets outside now that the weather is nicer), while Smiler finished up a mechanism at the robotics bench and then got to work on a computer chip. Victor, meanwhile, was SUPPOSED to be sleeping, but after being woken up both by the house being creepy and by Surprise yowling outside the door (Victor tried lecturing her, but she didn’t understand what she did was wrong), I decided to just get him dressed and send him into his greenhouse. Which happened to have a specter bopping around. So, once he was down there, I had him take a moment to draw a nice picture on his digital sketchpad to hand over as a present.

Except the specter took one look at the picture and was like “nope, not my style.” *sigh* Seriously, why are these little ghosties so hard to please?! Just let me know what the trick is, darn it!

-->Well, with placating the specter with gifts a no-go, I let Victor have some breakfast (leftover meatballs from the greenhouse mini fridge, om nom) before he got to work on the garden. Alice, for her part, finished up her book, played with Shadow on the porch, ran over to clean the chicken coop, recycled the garbage, and fed and petted Toothy the cowplant; Smiler, for their part, got their garden bots Bugs and Elmer tuned up because it looked like Victor REALLY needed some help in the greenhouse. Plus we haven't used the bots in a while -- gotta get them out and about more often! Once they were done, they headed into the greenhouse to unleash the bots...

[rising-dawn]

DAWN | CHICKEN SHOP DATE

“What is the meaning behind the lyrics ‘Slow it down, make it bouncy?’ And, could you demonstrate?” A blonde woman asks a dark haired man sitting opposite her. Her head rests in her hand as she watches him intently.

He tries to keep a serious face as she looks at him, but bursts into laughter instead.

The video cuts away to a clip of a colorful felted sign reading ‘Chicken Shop Date’ before cutting back to the pair. 

“So… I heard that you’re actually not allowed to date when you’re in a Kpop group… is this, er, is that going to be an issue?” The blonde asks in her usual awkwardness, white text labeling her as ‘Amelia.’

“Well, that’s why this is just a friend date, right?” the man, labeled ‘DAWN,’ responds, attempting to hide a cheeky smile.

“Oh,” Amelia deadpans.

The screen cuts to a clip of the outside of a chicken shop in London, England called Morley’s. The address is listed on the screen as 61-62 Brick Ln, E1 6RF.

“I’m only joking,” Dawn laughs as the video cuts back to him, taking a bite of a chip. “But actually,” he starts through his chewing, “I used to not be able to, cause it was in my contract that I couldn’t date for three years. But, y’know, that’s over now, so…” he raises his eyebrows in her direction.

“Perfect,” Amelia smiles, pleased that she could have a chance after all.

A clip of fried chicken wings sitting in a basket interrupts the video.

“What’s your type then?” Amelia asks as she returns to the screen.

The rapper finishes chewing with a hum as he thinks over his response to the question. “I like… older girls.”

Amelia gestures to herself, making him laugh.

“And I like when girls are smarter than me,” Dawn adds.

“Well…” the blonde begins, thinking up a fact to prove her intelligence. “Did you know that the Brighton Pier uses over 60,000 light bulbs?” she asks, a nod to the English city he went to school in.

“I actually didn’t know that,” he seems surprised. “How did you know that?”

“I’m just… smarter than you, I guess,” she shrugs, self-satisfied.

The video cuts to a close up of a drink fridge, stocked with bottled sodas and waters.

“When are you coming to Korea?” Dawn asks, turning the questions onto the interviewer.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Amelia answers honestly.

“Come back with me,” the man suggests, his tone hinting at cheeky.

Amelia’s cheeks seem to be a bit warmer when the camera cuts back to her. “I’d have to er... check my schedule…”

A clip of a red sign advertising the restaurant takes up the screen, ‘Morley’s’ reads in white script. Underneath it reads ‘MMM… It Tastes Better.’

“You have to try the chicken shops there,” Dawn returns to the screen once more.

“Is it different?” the woman asks, tossing a chip into her mouth.

“Better,” he nods.

Amelia raises her eyebrows in a casual kind of surprise. “Do they have chicken nuggets?”

“Usually it's like, wings, but I reckon there are shops that have nuggets. Some places have like, the boneless kind which is like the same thing,” he explains. “Do you like spicy food?”

“Oh no, I can’t do spicy food,” Amelia shakes her head, laying her crossed arms on the table.

“Well… there’s some not spicy kinds, too,” Dawn concedes.

A clip of a basket of chips being dipped into the bubbling golden bath of a deep fryer interrupts.

“In your song 'Golden Hour,'" Amelia begins between bites of a chicken nugget.

“Yeah?” the interviewee interjects.

“You say that you’re calling Gordon Ramsay. Do you… personally know Gordon?” she asks, shaped brows knit together in curiosity.

He laughs, a deep sound from his chest. “No, I don’t. Sadly. I feel like he could teach me a lot,” he notes, picking up a chip from the box in front of him.

“Yeah, you did say you don’t know how to make eggs,” Amelia gives him a look as if she would be embarrassed if she were him.

“True,” he chuckles, gesturing at her with the chip between his fingers.

A stack of cardboard boxes with the Morely’s logo, similar to the ones holding the chicken and chips in front of the pair, fills the screen.

“So you like to dance?” Amelia asks him. She has a serious tone, but the joke is hidden in the fact that he is professionally known as a dancer.

“Yeah,” he grins, catching on. “Yeah, I love to dance. Do you like to dance?”

“Love it,” she responds, tone still completely serious.

“Love it,” Dawn repeats with a nod, a smile still across his lips.

“I’ve actually learned one of your dances,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Have you?” the smile on his face seems to grow.

“Yeah.”

“Show me,” he requests, gesturing for her to give it a go.

Amelia holds her arms out in front of her, her shoulders moving back and down repeatedly, mimicking the choreography to Phoenix’s newest song ‘Bouncy.’

“Ooooh!” he exclaims, clapping. “That’s perfect!”

“Yeah?” she hasn’t broken her serious persona once.

“Oh yeah, you killed it. Want me to teach you some more?” he offers.

The video cuts to a clip of a Morley’s menu on the wall, white with black text and red accents. Different types of fried chicken meals are listed, each for only a few pounds.

When the camera returns to the pair, they’re standing in front of the table they were formerly eating at, Dawn showing her some of the choreography from his solo song ‘Golden Hour.’ Amelia is trying her best to copy his motions, but her movements don’t carry the same easy fluidity as his.

“Yeah, you’ve got it!” Dawn, cheers her on as she performs what he’s taught her for him. 

She finally breaks character, a slightly embarrassed grin breaking onto her face. “Really? Am I good enough to join Phoenix?”

He blanches, laughing after a second of hesitation. “Yeah… I should get you an audition.”

The camera cuts to chips frying in the golden oil of the deep fryer, perhaps the same seen being submerged earlier.

“I heard your sister is also a Kpop idol?” they have returned to their seats at the table at this point.

“Yeah, I have three sisters actually, but the oldest, Daisy, she is.” Dawn nods. He always seems lighter when discussing his sisters.

“Love her. Braheheart in your area,” Amelia sings in the tone of the group’s signature phrase.

“Exactly,” he laughs, trying to hide it under his hand.

“But you and her got rich and famous, so are your other sisters like… what the hell?” she gestures along with her words, waving a chip through the air.

“I don’t think they’re that hurt by it. I will say, they are still pretty rich,” he chuckles.

“So, what I’m hearing is, marry you for the money?” Amelia deadpans.

A Morley’s ad picturing two people enjoying a tray of fried chicken, parallelling the interview fills the screen.

“My sister says that I should stop dating rappers. I do have… a lot of exes that are rappers,” Amelia sighs when the camera returns to focus on her. “But would you say Kpop rappers are different? Like, better for dating?”

“I would say I’m better for dating,” Dawn answers with a grin.

“But not others?”

“Are you trying to date other Kpop rappers?” he asks incredulously, but teasing.

“No… just you,” Amelia answers, though unconvincing. She looks straight at the camera as if to tell the viewers she’s lying.

The colorful felt returns, felted hearts surrounding the ‘Chicken Shop Date.’

The camera returns to the pair, Amelia still attempting to complete the choreography he taught her, Dawn watching as he tries to hide his amused smile behind his hand. The video cuts away to a thumbnail advertising the previous interview in the series and a line of merchandise to match.