#Oh yeah also I have never played breath of the wild. Never in my life. I'm fresh and free as a bird

[starscreamingg]

Obsessed with genuinely never finishing breath of the wild. Poor Zelda's trapped in the castle with the pig man and I'm out here spending three hours filling my entire inventory with fish

[themultifanshipper]

Charles was shocked into silence. How could he not have noticed? He had known you for years and yet, he had never been so turned on in his life, just from hearing you speak.

Warnings: gn!reader, french!reader, cum play? GRATUITOUS amounts of french! Like half the dialogue is in french (with translation). This is entirely self-indulgent! Charles is really stupid in this I’m sorry but it’s for the plot, also he started out dominant then I decided halfway through he should be submissive, then switched back again. Barely proofread, it is 4:30am as I am writing this, sue me. There is disgusting stuff involving cum, and I’m kinda considering this crack because I can’t take french seriously.

Bon appétit, this is a wild ride my friends.

You had been working in formula 1 for most of your adult life, going from media teams to personal assistant, to lots of other jobs that finally led you to your dream job: race engineer.

Well, your dream job was really being a team boss, but baby steps, yeah?

Anyway, you had been promoted to race engineer to the one and only Charles Leclerc following the whole Xavi thing. But before that he’d known you as his assistant for a bit when his own assistant was on maternity leave, and before that you had been the media trainer for a few teams, including Sauber when he was there. He’d literally known you since his debut, and the two of you had grown very close over the years, and saw each other every week. So the fact that he could have missed something like this was embarrassing.

You were at the end of a race, going on about the tyres overheating to Charles over the radio when the car in front of him locked up and slid, forcing him to swerve and hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

You gasped as you saw the car make contact. “Oh Putain, ça va Charles ?” (Oh fuck, you ok Charles?) You spoke into your headset but there was no answer, and Charles didn’t seem to be moving so you tried again “Charles, tu m’entends? Est-ce que ça va?!” (Charles can you hear me? Are you ok?)

He finally replied in a shaky voice, and you were finally able to breathe and call the staff that would go get Charles and his car off the track.

Unbeknownst to you, Charles was having a mental crisis. You spoke French?

Since fucking when?

His ears were ringing as he tried to think back your years friendship for any signs. He came up empty. He was positive he’d never heard you speak French before. And he was positive he should not be hard, climbing out of his car after a crash.

When he got back to the garage, you were waiting for him, ready to ask him how he was but before you could say anything he grabbed your arm and dragged you into the nearest room slash maintenance cupboard he could find.

“What the hell are you doing Charles?”

He locked the door and when he turned back around his eyes were dark and stormy “Since when do you speak french?” he asked.

You just blinked at him.

“What?”

He backed you up against the wall, hands either side of your waist.

“Since when” he spoke patronizingly slowly “Do. You. Speak. French.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion.

“Charles, I am French. I have a French name. I was born and raised in France! What the fuck do you mean ‘since when do I speak french’???!”

His eyes widened as he realized how oblivious he’d been.

“My dad is friends with Pierre’s parents! I started my career at Renault! I brought you wine from my family’s vineyard! Charles how-  how could you not have known?” You laughed at him as he just stood there flabbergasted at his own stupidity.

“Sérieusement? Comment?” (seriously, how?)

His brain seemed to reboot and he put his arms around you “Je suis désolé, je suis vraiment débile” (I’m sorry, I’m so stupid) he giggled into your hair.

The proximity was odd but not unwelcome, as you put your arms around him and laughed with him, inhaling his pleasant scent.

“Tu as mis du parfum? Tu sens bon. ” (Have you got cologne on? You smell good)

He groaned. “Keep talking, please” and he squeezed you tighter against him.

You laughed. “Tu sais bien que je parle toujours en français avec Pierre et Este ?” (You know I always speak french with Pierre and Este, right?)

He whimpered into your neck and that’s when you felt it.

You froze in his arms “Charles are you getting hard?”

He put his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes, both of you going cross-eyed. “I’m sorry you just sound so sexy in french” he sniffled.

This was definitely something you could get behind.

“Ouais? Tu veux que je te parle en français pendant les courses alors? (Yeah, you want me to speak to you in french during the races?)

He chewed on his lip and nodded as your hand made its way to the front of his suit to cup him over the fabric.

“T’es sûr? On voudrait pas que tu salisse la voiture, tu devras expliquer aux ingénieurs pourquoi le siège est trempé” (you sure ? We wouldn’t want you to make a mess, you’d have to explain to the engineers why the seat is wet)

He whined and his knees almost buckled, so you turned him around against the wall and unzipped his suit, dragging it down to pool around his ankles, then making quick work of the second layer, leaving him in his very damp underwear. You pulled that down as well as you got a hand around his cock and started a slow pace, teasing the tip with your thumb every now and then. He bucked his hips and whined at the dry friction.

“What’s the matter? Un peu sec?” (a bit dry?) You said teasingly.

“Laisse moi t’aider avec ça” (let me help you with that)

You got down on your knees and his eyelids fluttered as you got your lips around his tip. When you took half of him in your mouth and reached a hand up to cup his balls at the same time, he moaned and thumped his head back onto the wall.

You pulled off “Garde les yeux sur moi, Charles” (keep your eyes on me, Charles)

He did so , with much difficulty, but his eyes snapped to yours and you continued, taking him all the way to the base and massaging his balls gently. His hips bucked up a bit making you gag slightly.

“désolé, je vais pas durer longtemps” (sorry, I’m not gonna last long)

So you picked up the pace and doubled down on your efforts, as his hands flew to your hair.

It took about a minute and a half for him to come, groaning your name while he filled your mouth. He felt like his soul had been sucked out through his dick. You didn’t swallow it all though, wanting to share the load, as it were.

You got up and pulled him in for a kiss, which he gladly accepted, and it was the most disgusting, satisfying kiss you’d ever had, all teeth and spit and cum, some of it dribbling down your necks and chests.

You stayed like that for a while, basking in each other’s embrace (and each other’s mouths) before you suddenly remembered where you were.

“Charles! Don’t you have a press conference to go to?!”

“Je m’en fous, je reste là” (I don’t care, I’m staying here)

He lifted you up and carried you to the other side of the room where there was a conveniently empty shelf, where he set you down before tugging your pants down and spreading your legs to slot himself between them. He was already half hard again as he pumped himself with one hand and used the other to swipe up the cum on his and your chests, then brought his fingers to your entrance, rubbing gently before sliding a finger inside you. It didn’t take much for him to prep you and he used the excess leftover cum to lube himself up and slide into you. You keened as he pressed up into your most sensitive spots. But he just stayed there, grinding slowly into you, driving you mad.

“Please, Charles!” You begged, pronouncing his name the English way.

He cocked his head and grinned at you, and you sighed in desperation.

“S’il te plait… Charles”

His jaw went slack as he used all the energy he had left to pound into you, right in that special spot that made you see stars, over and over until you were a whining mess underneath him.

You came with a shout, back arching off the shelf and he held on to you as he followed soon after.

Charles Leclerc got a heavy fine for not showing up at the post-race conference, or the debrief, or any of his mandatory duties. Fortunately, he had enough money to pay the fine, and take you to dinner that very same night.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi bubbs, 💖 anon here. I never made a request before, but I'd like to make one now. Can you write a fic in which reader gets injured and Azriel takes care of her and tends to her wounds? Reader has been through a lot in the past so she doesn't know how to react to someone taking care of her. Both of them are also secretly pining for one another. Pls write it if you have the time, no pressure. Much love to you Queen, bye bye💖.

Hey, gorgeous! Enjoy!💕✨

Keep you safe

Azriel hated when Rhys sent you out on missions alone or with anyone who wasn’t him. When it came to you he trusted no one. It was stupid. Over the top stupid but he just couldn’t. Couldn’t make himself settle when he wasn’t the one guarding your back. And then maybe it was the fact that something deep within his chest burnt for you. It was easy with you. From day one you had managed to see right through him. Right through everything he thought he was masking like a true mastermind.

“If you had come to nag me about putting her on a search team with other boys, you don’t have to. By now I know what you will drill me for”, Rhys spoke up before Azriel had a chance to fully enter his study. “I just don’t understand why you do it”, the spymaster slowly closed the door before turning to his brother, “You know how much it unsettles me”. Rhys put down his pen, looking straight up at Azriel, “Man up then and tell her how you feel”, and that was enough to make Azriel's shoulders go stiff. “Stop with that nonsense. Aren’t you tired of trying to play a matchmaker?”, but Azriel’s words only made Rhys smirk. “You can make her yours, admit how you’re feeling, and have an advantage over my decisions. Or you can sulk for the rest of your life because, brother, you’re not getting any younger”, Rhys’s eyes pierced through Azriel. He slowly nodded his head before turning around, “You don’t know shit”, he reached for the door handle once more, “Oh, and if something happens to her because of this choice of yours”, his eyes now much darker, landed on his high lord, “Your pretty face will take a beating. My condolences to Feyre”, and with that, he was gone.

It was an anxious couple of days of sitting around. The reports Azriel had to fill out were adding up but he couldn’t get his mind to settle. And then he heard it. The sea of voices. Among them a voice he would recognize anywhere. Azriel is quick to jump to his feet, rushing down the stairs. And there you stand. Your fighting leather was still on as you gave your last orders to the soldiers that had come with you.

“Y/n”, the shadow singer called out with a tight nod. Your eyes. Tired eyes meet his. A light smile pulls at the corner of your mouth, “Azriel”. The soldiers give clipped nods to both of you before hurrying away. “Didn’t even say goodbye”, Azriel crosses his arms over his chest. “You know i hate goodbyes”, you snicker, turning slightly only to hiss beneath your breath. “Is everything okay?”, the question falls out of his mouth way too quickly but your well-being has been the center of attention ever since you left. “Yeah, perfect. Need to give Rhys a rundown”, and that’s when his eyes notice your clammy-looking skin, the slight tremble.

Azriel reaches out, grabbing your arm, and the dampness of it strikes him. He lets go in a hurry only to be met with a bloody palm. “Yn…”, it’s barely a whisper as his vision zeros onto the crimson staining his skin. “It is nothing”, you brush it off so carelessly that it makes Azriel’s blood boil. “Nothing? You’re bleeding all over the foyer”, he whispers shouts, stepping right in front of you, blocking your way away from him. “I’ll clean it up?”, you try, not too sure as to what would calm this sudden fury burning in him. His wild eyes look you over. And then there is darkness. The coldness of his shadows surrounded everything.

“Sit”, he orders before the mist of his darkness even has a chance to fizzle out. “Azriel you can’t just take me like that”, you hiss out both in pain and frustration. To his apartment outside the city, he had winnowed you. Just like that. Just because. “But it seems like I did”, he sassed over his shoulder before pointing to the sofa, “sit down, woman, before I sit you down”. You gape at him for a moment. Under any other circumstance you would be putting him in his place but now… now you just feel weaker and weaker by the minute.

“You are being childish”, you point out, welcoming the feeling of ease once your body eases against the sofa. “You are being careless”, he throws your own words at him. Ones that you had thrown at him on multiple occasions after his missions. “Shirt off”, Azriel asks, motioning to the material. “Azriel, this is nothing”, you try to reason once again. You don’t want him to see you like this. You can lick your wounds on your own. Have done that your whole life.

“Say that one more time”, it’s a dare you know that. Know him. Just as you know the more you push, the more likely it is that he will be the one doing the undressing. “Fine”, you huff, “I’ll show you so you will get out of my hair”, it’s mean and rude at best, because he had been nothing but nice. You just can’t wrap your head around someone caring. But even you halt at the sight of the angry-looking gash surrounded by bruises. You haven’t looked at it since the attack. You felt it yes. But it didn’t feel that bad. Not to mention the puss slowly forming at the edges. Infected. A chill runs down your back.

“Fuck”, Azriel’s voice fills in the silence. “It wasn’t…”, you start but your voice dies. “Sit, or better lay down”, and there it is, the collected composure, “I’ll fetch clean clothes and Madja’s slaves”, he’s quick to step into his neatly arranged storage room. Searching through the medical supplies. “She’s not in Velaris now but I will make sure she comes here first thing when she returns”, he’s rambling now. Meaning it’s bad. He thinks it’s bad too.

You’re only in your breast wrap when Azriel returns. He would admire you. What man wouldn’t but not now. Not when your chest is coming up and down in broken breathes. Your face looking ashy. “This will hurt. Hold onto my shoulders”, he kneels between your legs, dampening the material. “I’m good”, you say through clenched teeth, letting your head fall over the back of the sofa. Azriel watches you, “I warned you”, he mutters before pressing the cloth to your wound.

Your hands shoot up as quickly as the pain making you cry out. Reaching for the man tending your wounded side. “Breathe through it. Nice and slow”, his lips brush against the side of your head. You didn’t even realize when he had leaned over you. “It hurts”, you cry out, feeling the tears rolling down your cheeks. “Look at me, I’ve got you”, his forehead is pressed to yours. Eyes watching you. He gives you a quick nod and you nod alongside him, “Make it quick”. Another tight nod and the salve-soaked material is once again against your burning flesh.

You cry out, head falling onto Azriel’s shoulder. The agony of it all catches up quickly to you. “Just a bit more”, he pleads, trying to clean away all the crusted-over blood and puss. “You’re doing great. So brave. So strong”, you want to bite back that you’re not a child that needs praise but his words soothe something inside you.

“Lay down, you will feel dizzy”, Azriel reaches out to steady your head back. “Any more not serious cuts on your body?” You lift your arm, one he had grasped. It’s a much shallow wound the bleeding had stopped by now. Yet Azriel tends to it as carefully. You watch him do it. The way he has that almost permanent frown on his face. As if every bruise and cut had personally offered him. “I’ll wrap you up”, he mutters after a while, gathering all the blood-soaked clothes. “I can do it myself, you did enough”, The truth is you don’t want to move. Or more like don’t know if you can. Azriel just looks down at you before sighing, “I understand now why you get pissed when I play big boy around you”, you can’t help but smile a little. Tending to him was always a headache but you always got him to give in. “Got to keep you on your toes now”, you whisper, not trusting your voice.

“Just let me look after you”, he mutters and you take a moment to soak in his worried eyes. “Why?”, deep down you know the answer but there’s an urge now. Urge to hear him say it. “Because…”, Azriel breathes out, stalling, “Because I’ve been worried sick since you left, because this will help my mind settle”. He shakes his head slightly, “Because I care… about you”. You take a shaky breath in, wanting to reach out for him. “Az…”, you mutter. “Don’t say anything now. Heal first and let me help you do so faster”, he cups your face, before going back to fetch the bandages.

[demontonic]

Hayden Christensen - The first time

H.C x actor reader

In which you try to avoid him during training but it’s useless when Ewan puts you up against each other in a friendly match.

Word Count: 2099 words (que spiderman theme song. IM NOT JOKING THIS IS THE ACTUALLY COUNT)

You were new to the industry, you had only been in two movies thus far. The first one wasn’t big, it was just an indie film that horror movie nerds happened to like. From there you got picked for an audition for a bigger movie that would be put in a few theaters. However here, now, you’d never really expected such a huge change, you weren’t going to be playing a huge part. It was a flashback for the upcoming series Ahsoka, you were going to be a Jedi for a short time. They were doing another scene for order 66 in which Anakin goes against someone whom he’d become acquainted with during training. A battle was to be choreographed which meant you were going to be up against the actor who had single handedly started your acting career.

You were a huge Star Wars fan and without a doubt one of the kids who had lightsabers and a few Clone Wars coloring books. As you got older you looked into Anakin’s actor Hayden Christensen and grew to love the movies he’d done. Of course you thought he was hot, who wouldn’t love the nerd in Shattered Glass, or the punk in Life as a House? Sure he’s older now but that didn’t stop you from absolutely freezing up the second you walked into the training area. He’s significantly taller than you, that much you already knew but now it made you feel even more anxious. Interviews of him (which you of course obsessed over in your younger years) depicted him to be very nice, but you can’t always judge someone based on their interviews.

“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself as you placed your hand to your cheek.

“Are you okay?” The trainer had questioned, a slight concern showing on her face. Hayden had also looked to you, the thin lightsaber prop swinging effortlessly to his side as he awaited your answer.

“Uh- Sorry I just got a… um- a headache is all.” You lied while your hands gripped onto the prop like it was the only thing grounding you.

“I have tylenol in my bag, or some water if you want?” Hayden’s hands gesture over to the black backpack that was leaned against the wall next to yours. Your throat ran dry as you opened your mouth to speak, before choking on your words and coughing… quite literally choking on your words.

“Yeah, the water should be fine.” Hayden walked over to his bag before pulling out two bottles and handing one to you. He stood there however as you took a small sip and placed it back down.

“Nervous?” He snickered lowly while he waited for you to collect yourself.

“Pfft… can you tell?” You questioned softly, looking up at his sparkling blue eyes. My god you’d dreamed about meeting him for practically half your life, but all you did was fumble. The casting crew never really gave you a lot of information, just that it was for upcoming Star Wars content and that they’d needed to fill a small jedi role. Nothing could’ve mentally prepared you to meet your living, breathing, wet dream.

“It’s just training right now, so there’s really no need to stress, we can all help you learn everything you’ll need to know.” His voice was so calm and endearing, maybe it was the daddy issues talking or the fact he is a dad, but it was so comforting.

Even three months into your training you’d distanced from Hayden as to not make a complete fool of yourself. He’s almost 40 at this point with a child you’d assume he was tired of the wild fans. Even so during training you’d often slip up while your eyes were trained on his swift movements. Sometimes you guys would get together and have little matches to see who could win. It was a random pick or whoever decided to challenge someone, and it was no different today. Everyone had finished training but the energy had been so vibrant that here you were on the cushioned floor in a circle. At this point it was no secret your character and Anakin were to have a final battle, but you had never gone against each other in these matches.

“Okay before we start, would anyone like to call someone out?” Rosario Dawson, Hayden’s childhood friend who’d been training for a separate project, questioned the small group.

“This isn’t a call out but I’d actually like to see Hayden vs Y/N without their choreography.” Ewan suggested while sitting on the blue mat cross legged, a childlike smile on his face. On one hand you were a shell of a human around Hayden, but with Ewan it was like he was your favorite uncle. Had you at some point in time found him incomprehensibly attractive? Yeah, but he’s the kind of nice that makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

“Oh come on, is that even fair?” You whined, alluding to the obvious experience points he had on you.

“Are you calling me old?” Hayden jokes lightly as he steps forward into the circle, the group collectively letting out a low ‘oooooooh’.

“I mean your character is the chosen one, I don’t know if my three months of training can compare.” In all honesty you had tried your hand occasionally at a lightsaber when you were younger, so you had a little bit more experience than you let on. The amount of times you’d watched the behind the scenes,their practicing and training helped you recognize his moves.

“I’ll go easy on you, how about that?” His arms were outstretched to his sides in a shrug. A smirk was playing on his lips as he stared at you expectantly.

“Easy? Okay Christensen I’ll fight you.” Competitive couldn’t even begin to describe the drive that suddenly pumped through your veins. The way his eyes zeroed in on you, and the familiar smirk you had only dreamed of seeing in person made your adrenaline kick in. All the information you’d ever retained while watching those extras, would finally be useful for more than proving a point in a dumb argument online.

“Let’s not forget who’s had more training.” Hayden said with a scoff as you both got into your beginning stances. Yours mimicking the form Obi-Wan took while fighting Grievous, Ewan didn’t miss it, how could he? He simply stood with his left foot pointing towards you, his right braced for a sprint, and his saber behind him ready for a strike. You were reading him like a billboard, he never strayed from the forms he was taught, but you were a fan with too much time so you had a few of your own moves.

“May the force be with you Master Skywalker.” You said before he charged, you dodged the first strike but he had already begun to recover from the miss. A huff came from his chest as he swung the flimsy pole back down, meeting yours with a loud clash. The group let out sounds of shock and excitement as he pushed you down to one knee, he was stronger than you. It was no secret as height wise he’s an entire foot taller than you, so you quickly rolled from your position in front of him. He stumbled forward slightly, then twisted around to meet your blows. One to the head, down to the legs, up to the arm, then back down to his torso since it would be an awkward position for him to hold. You were both fast, you’d spent so much time learning basic defense in case one of you made a mistake it was too easy. Stamina was probably the only way you’d win this, or so you thought.

“You’ve learned well, young one,” he tripped you up, while you were focused on his words he’d hit you with the same move Anakin used on count Dooku. “although you’re too focused on me,” your ‘saber’ swung upward to slash his torso, but with a small step back, he dropped the pole to his open palm.

“And not my hands.”

“Fuck.”

The cool, thin, dented metal was up against the side of your neck as your arms were still tilted up in your last strike. Heavy breaths left the both of you as your small ‘audience’ went silent. The sound of your pole hitting the mat, signaled your defeat and in true style you dropped to the floor. The room erupted with groans and yells of victory from those who bet on Hayden. A few seconds of lying on the floor Hayden walked over, standing above you holding out his hand.

“Come on loser.” His smile was so genuine it made your face blush softly as you rolled onto your back.

“I can’t, I’m dead, rigor mortis.” You mumble, letting your tongue hang out the side of your mouth. You felt two arms scoot under your back and knees, quickly feeling your body lifted into the air. A scream came out of your throat as your hand quickly gripped onto Hayden’s loose shirt. The group laughed as he basically tossed you up and down, pretending like he was going to drop you.

“I don’t know why you’re screaming! Dead people don’t scream!”

“Oh- OH MY- PLEASE! GOD PLEASE! OBI WAN PLEASE!” He’d even managed to flip you on your stomach, your fingertips almost meeting the ground before he flung you back up again. Sure it wasn’t a crazt high distance from his arms, but add that with his height it was terrifying enough.

“So uncivilized!” Ewan mocked in a bad Obi-Wan voice, Hayden finally held you against his chest as he laughed with the rest of the group. Ewan came over with Rosario, both of them cooing softly at your semi panicked state.

“Put the poor girl down already!”

“She’s as red as a tomato Hayden!”

He let you down to your feet, still holding onto you as you stumbled lightly. Your chest heaved as you rested your hands on your knees, completely oblivious to how you practically pushed against Hayden’s crotch. His hand came down to rest on your lower back, rubbing softly while you regained your breath.

“I’m-… I’ll kill you for that one day Christensen.” You said through heavy breaths before standing straight again. Hayden’s hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, sporting a smug smile as the group began to discuss the next match. Hayden pulled you off the far walls where your bags lay, you both sitting in front of each other while he pulled out water bottles. For a while you sat in silence, just leaning against the wall watching Rosario and Ewan go at it.

“Were you ever going to tell me about your tattoo?” Hayden questioned, his voice staying low in contrast with the yelling from the group. At first you almost didn’t know what he was talking about, but then your cheeks turned to a dark red. On your wrist was the japor snippet Anakin gave Padme when they first met, and under it read ‘Skywalker’ in Huttese. Usually it was covered by a scrunchie or bracelet, but it must’ve slipped your mind today.

“I wasn’t planning on it, it feels too embarrassing to show you.” You held your arm out to him, since he’d already seen it there was no use in hiding it now. His hand pulled your wrist closer as he traced it with his fingers.

“I always wanted to get a replica of the japor snippet but I never did. I think this is really cool Y/N, you don’t need to be so nervous around me all the time.” He said quietly as he set your arm down on your thigh. Hayden was nice, but you were feral, you still couldn’t grasp the fact you avoided him like a schoolgirl avoided her crush.

“I-… I am not! The job is just so… overwhelming you know?” Lies, you shook as bad as a chihuahua when you were alone with him, practicing lines, fighting, and in general.

“It’s been three months and you still get distracted by just staring at me mid-fight.” A chuckle resonated in his chest as you looked at your blushing face.

“Okay… I just didn’t want to look like some nerdy, obsessed fangirl, I didn’t know how well that would go over.” Holding the cool bottle against your face you let your hair shield your face from the older man.

“I think it’s cute.”

And for the first time, you felt like maybe the star would align, maybe you would have a chance with the man you’d worshipped during your teen years.

I need to be his controversially young girlfriend HIS BIRTHDAY IS THE DAY AFTER MINE idk i think its a sign or whatever🤞🏼 hope you liked this! feel free to make any requests! i might make a part two but idk yet

Masterlist

[party-hearses]

i am a nightmare, you are a miracle // 1

i'll bury us both, fed to the night as ghosts

series masterlist | next chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, ex!Tommy Miller x f!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)

Summary: After your two year relationship with Tommy Miller ends, Joel takes you in — and it’s home like you’ve never quite known before. 

Series Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, language, infidelity, eventual smut, age difference, soft!joel, AU - no cordyceps outbreak, Sarah doesn’t exist (sorry), Tommy stans don’t come for me

Wordcount: 5.8 k

A/N: I’ll be honest — I have no idea what I’m doing. I haven’t written a fic in damn near 20 years, so I’m just kind of throwing this out into the void to see what happens. I'm playing fast and loose with years and ages; it's 2023 and there's no outbreak. Also, not a personal fan of the ‘brothers’ trope, but…here we are. 

…I can’t wait until your next business trip…

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes as hard as you can. Who even uses email to have an affair, anymore? 

…miss your hands…

The words are hot against your eyelids, seared into your line of vision, despite the dull ache from your own hands. It had been a week, and the wound still feels gaping — all consuming, bitter pain licking at your insides what feels like every minute of the day. 

     “Dammit, peach. I’ve barely seen you in a week and a half, and this is the bullshit you start?” 

     “Oh, so it’s my fault that you’re having an affair?”

     “I didn’t say that!” 

     Tommy’s eyes wild, hands on his hips, southern drawl like syrup over each syllable. 

     “You’re always workin’. In meetings. Pourin’ yourself into spreadsheets and budgets. What  am I s’posed to do?”

     His hands in the air, desperate, shoulders hunched.

     “Still sounds a lot like you’re blaming me.”  

You can feel the tears well up, and you swallow hard to stop them. Do not cry at work. Do NOT cry at work. You breathe deep, the burning in your lungs waning, but not extinguishing. The usual busy noises of your office are absent today, save the soft purr of the air conditioning and the receptionist’s furious clicking at her keyboard. Even the phones are silent; no frantic calls from upstairs to divert your attention from the constant replay of that night. 

Finally feeling steady enough to remove your hands from your eyes, you lock your fingers together and lay your cheek on top of them. Everything feels heavy — your workload, your personal life, your head. Your gaze slowly flickers to the office window, the sunlight streaming through, the heat scorching. It seems to call out to your blood, making you feel restless, agitated, but also so fucking tired.  

Sleep had eluded you since Tommy had left, and you’d barely been able to steal moments here and there, between dinner for one on the couch and the canned laughs of late-night talk shows. How different your life had been even two weeks ago.  

“Did you bring lunch?” 

Abruptly brought back to earth, your eyes snap up to the face of your colleague, Ava. 

“Um, yeah. Just some veggie sticks and hummus. I, uh, haven’t been feeling terribly hungry.” You smile weakly, the attempt at a joke feeling like a weight around your neck. 

Ava nods in understanding, her eyes sympathetic. She had been the second person you’d called the next morning, after your older sister. Kit, five years your senior, had answered, already sounding distracted by her two young children. 

     “Well, girl, I can’t say I didn’t tell you so. Getting involved with a man seventeen years older than you…” 

While Kit had been hard and borderline disinterested, Ava had served as a warm landing for your sobbing, rushing to the empty apartment on a Saturday morning to soothe you. 

“It’s Friday. We can duck out early, grab a drink? You could use one, and Jackson isn’t back from his meeting upstairs.” Ava checks her watch, confirming. “It’s not like anyone will even miss us.” 

Ava is dependable, fun, beautiful. Her cool California attitude compliments her chic New York style, but she had called Austin home since college. She could wrap anyone around her finger with ease, and her insistence on being your friend made your heart clench. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” You nod solemnly, tears now pricking at your eyes from the tenderness you feel towards her. 

She meets the tenderness with a wide grin. “Knew you would, doll.” 

As you turn to gather your bag, a sudden lightning bolt of fear strikes you. 

“Av, what if he’s there? What if we see him?” 

She swallows down a laugh. “Tommy Miller? Downtown?” She leans closer to you, raising her eyebrows. “He wouldn’t be caught dead at Taquero Mucho. Not willingly, at least.” 

Ava is right, as always. The lush pink floral interior and neon signage on the walls of the restaurant do not, and would not, mesh with Tommy Miller’s bearish sensibilities. You instantly feel more at ease, letting Ava order pink, fruity drinks for the both of you. 

One cocktail turns into two turns into three, and the warm buzz in your veins settles your mind for the time being. Ava sits across from you, happily munching on tortilla chips and chattering away. 

“I couldn’t believe Belinda said that! Like, retire already, grandma.” She grins, rolling her eyes. 

You chuckle, only half hearing the story she’s been telling. Noticing, she gently shifts in her seat, drawing closer to you. 

“Doll, I’m sorry to have been chatting your ear off. You know how I get. Let’s hear- ah, wait!” She notices your empty glass, and as if she had snapped her fingers, the server materializes. 

“Two more, please.” She nods toward the server, who rushes away to put the order in, lest they keep Ava waiting. “Okay. So… what are you going to do? We need to get you out of that apartment. And since you refuse to stay with me…” 

Your gaze drops to your hands in your lap. If you thought crying at work was bad, crying at lunch was worse. You clear your throat, eyes catching your chipped fingernail polish.  

“I don’t know, Av. He- it’s his apartment. It’s not like I don’t make enough to get something on my own, but… I don’t know. It all feels so empty.” 

Ava nods as the server places two more pink cocktails on the table. Mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ to him, she reaches for it before responding.  

“Where’s he staying? And for how long?” 

“His brother’s. Said he’ll give me as much time as I need…but I don’t want to be there anymore. I don’t feel like I can be. Maybe I should get out of Austin?” 

Ava raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. You can’t let him run you out of town! That’s outrageous. He’s not even worth that.” She rolls her eyes again. 

You reach for your drink, sipping it slowly, willing it to quiet the bitter fire in your blood. 

     “Peach, come on. I- I didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything. You’re gonna throw two years away over a one time thing? A-a mistake?” 

     “It should have never happened, Tommy! Fucking a client? And I know it wasn’t just once! What the fuck were you thinking?” 

     Tommy’s eyes soften, but he doesn’t speak. His hand goes to the back of his neck, kneading. 

     “Guess I wasn’t thinkin’.” 

Tommy had shattered you. Betrayed you. Split you open and cut your insides out. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say that he wasn’t a good man. Complicated? Yes. Hard to read? Yes. Prone to making colossal fucking mistakes? Absolutely. But you knew, deep down, that he wasn’t bad. 

You shake your head at Ava slowly, sadly. “I don’t know what I did wrong, Av. Two years. I don’t know what happened.” 

Your eyes well up, and this time you can’t stop the tears. You sniffle, wiping them away quickly, as Ava puts her hand on your forearm. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, doll. He’s the one who fucked up. He’s the one who ruined everything.” 

“H-he said I work too much. I’m ‘not there’ enough. And…and…the worst p-part is, I don’t think he’s wrong!” It takes everything in you not to wail. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, trying to focus on the in-out in-out of your breathing. 

Ava signals for the check, another of her magic abilities. You can feel the server’s eyes on you as he brings it, quietly clicking his tongue against his teeth. Another sad drunk girl. Tsk, tsk. It’s barely 3 o’clock. Ava hums softly, scribbling her signature on the receipt. 

“There’s not a justification in the world for what he chose to do. You worked hard for your career, busted your ass to be where you’re at. It’s no excuse for him to have a full-blown affair with a client.” She closes the receipt inside the booklet and stands. “Now let’s get you home, so you can cry it out in peace.”

Unlocking the door of the apartment fills you with dread. The key feels unwieldy in your hand, and you consider for a split second whether it will feel daunting or freeing to give it back to Tommy. You let yourself in, the apartment hauntingly empty — just as you had left it, just as it had been for the past seven nights. 

You’ve only spoken to Tommy sparingly over the course of the week. A few short texts here and there, mostly about the logistics of the arrangement you are both now navigating. He had left for Joel’s late the night it happened, a duffel bag slung low over his shoulder, slamming the door on his way out. 

     “This it, peach?”  

…miss your hands…

 Dropping your bag next to the front door, the tears don’t stop once they start.

Ava had offered to come up, but you knew you couldn’t let her. She didn’t deserve to have to wallow with you, no matter how much she wanted to be there for you. 

 It had been a good distraction, lunch with her, but you still didn’t know what your plan was. Where you’d be going, where you’d be living. 

Hugging yourself, you shuffle into the guest bathroom to wash your face. After Tommy had left, you’d moved everything you needed out of the main bedroom and bathroom, suddenly feeling like a trespasser there. 

     Had he brought her here? Did she sleep in this bed? Did they talk about the future together? What does Joel think?

The last question to run through your mind catches you by surprise, a small gasp escaping your lips. What does Joel think? 

If Tommy was stoic and gruff, Joel was downright intimidating. You’ve only seen him smile a few times, and you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve heard him laugh. He wasn’t, however, unkind, taking to calling you by the same nickname Tommy had, albeit a bit awkwardly at first. Like he couldn’t form his mouth around the languid, round letters - p e a c h. Angular as he was, he had always made you feel welcome, in his own, quiet way, teasing Tommy about you being out of his league. The familial resemblance was strong between the brothers, with their dark waves and warm eyes. But something about Joel made your soul clench, as if he had curved his fingers around your ribs and impressed himself upon your heart. He was comfortable, in a cloudy way — never revealing himself, but not pressuring you to, either. Amicable silence, as it were. 

Thinking about Joel calling you out of Tommy’s league makes you scoff, now. 

“The rich client with the kitchen remodel isn’t too out of his league, is she?” You mumble to yourself, cold water pooling between your palms. 

     “I don’t want it to end this way, peach.”  

     “I didn’t want it to end at all, Tommy.” 

 You bring the water to your face, scrubbing away the salt of dried tears and sting of betrayal.

The sun had dipped below the horizon when you wake up later on the couch. Fumbling for your phone with one hand, you rub your eyes with the other. As you check the time, your phone alerts you to two new text messages, delivered two hours ago.

Tommy Miller: Will you be home tonight? Tommy Miller: I need to stop by to get a few things. 

Your hands tremble as you read and reread the messages. You rub your eyes again, unsure if you’re understanding the text in front of you clearly. It doesn’t change. Panic rises in your throat, searing and sour. 

A vicious cross between fury and complete despair surges through you, and you drop your phone into your lap. Tears pinch at the backs of your eyes. Forget figuring out where to live, you hadn’t even considered how you’d next face Tommy.  

     I don’t want to see you, Tommy. Do you want to talk? I’ll be out, feel free to drop by. Please come home. 

You weigh your options, constructing and dismantling multiple messages. Retrieving the phone, you pray he can’t see that abhorrent blue bubble that indicates you’re typing. That shows him you’re there. 

As if he’d read your mind, your phone vibrates, his name and picture flashing on the screen. The picture gives you pause — a day you had spent on Lake Austin, the wind whipping through his hair, a broad smile on both of your faces. You feel like you’re going to be sick. 

Focusing on your breathing, clenching your teeth, you accept the call.  

 “Hey, Tommy.” Your voice is small. So small. You feel your cheeks burn at how stupid you feel. You should be screaming at him — biting back the venom he instilled in you — but all you can manage is barely a whisper.  

He sounds relieved. “Hey, peach. Didn’t know if I’d catch ya.” 

You hum discontentedly. How can he be so cool about this?  

“Uhhh, well, I, uh, need to stop by the apartment tonight to grab some things. Would that be okay?” 

You don’t know what to say. Would it be okay?  

“It’s your apartment.” 

The response surprises you, that same venom bubbling over without your permission.

Tommy sighs. 

“I don’t want it to be like this, darlin’. Can we talk? Please?” 

“Can you make it here without sleeping with a client?” 

Tommy laughs hollowly. “Guess I deserve that. Sassy today, huh?” 

You picture him then, on Joel’s couch, fidgeting with the hem of his button down with his free hand. Pressed against the cushions, eyes to the ceiling. Gently annoyed with you for ignoring his texts. Football would be switched on in the background, and your heart thrums when you think of Joel being there, watching him. What does Joel think?   

You clear your throat, refocusing your attention. 

“Let’s get this over with, Tommy.”  

Sassy, indeed.

It was easier to be hard over the phone, joined by nothing more than wires somewhere in space. But as Tommy stands in front of you now, elbows on the kitchen island, hands stretching towards you, all you feel is the velvety pull of attraction. The soft lull of two years spent shrouded in each other. 

His voice is low, but soft — practically a purr. 

“Baby. How do we move past this?” 

You don’t meet his gaze, wrapping your arms around yourself. Looking at anything but him, anything but those warm eyes. You know that if you do, it will be over. 

“Tommy…I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if it’s that easy. You had an affair. You didn’t forget to take the trash out, or-or-or make a shitty comment about my friends. You slept with someone! You had a relationship with her.” Your voice is measured, eyes dragging from the floor to the ceiling. Avoiding. 

“What can I do, peach? Please, just tell me. I’ll do anything.” 

 “It doesn’t change what happened.” You cross your arms over your chest, defiant now. “It won’t change what happened.” 

Exasperated, Tommy slams his hand on the counter, drawing his body to its full height. He’s broad — so broad — his shoulders squared. 

“I get it, okay? I fucked up. You’ve made it clear. Joel has made it clear. I fuckin’ get it!” He clenches his fists, bringing them up to his face. “I fuckin’ get it.” 

You drop your eyes instantly as your pulse quickens. “What do you mean, Joel made it clear?” 

Tommy sighs, deeply, not removing his hands from his face. “Joel will barely fuckin’ talk to me. Can’t get more’n two words out of him. Said he doesn’t blame you for bein’ done with me. Said I know better. And you know what? Yeah, he’s right. I do. Can’t even argue with’m.” 

You hum cooly in agreement, your pulse thrumming in your ears. There is a sudden acute awareness of the change taking place in your perception of Tommy following his words; he’s been wrenched open and put on display for you, and the need to step back from the jarring offering is nearly suffocating.  

“Okay. Okay.” Hands falling to his waist, revealing his eyes. Bloodshot, tired. Surrendering, but sharp. His voice, softer now, velvet dipped in whiskey. “I’m sorry, peach. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am. I wish I could take it all back. I…I know I really fucked up.” 

You hold his desperate gaze for a moment before lowering your eyes to the floor again. 

“Tommy… ” His name splintering across your lips. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” That small voice again, cracking. Shattering. Sparkling pieces scattered across the kitchen floor around your feet. Meeting his offering with outstretched, empty palms. Nothing left to give. 

He drops his head, tucking his chin to his chest, and exhales a shaky breath. “Okay, peach. I hear ya.”

You can see his eyes bright with unshed tears. This is the softness that you know, that you’ve craved. The hushed tenderness that you’d shared beneath bed sheets, woven between fingertips brushed against silk skin, delicate whispers in the dark of a once shared bedroom.  

As good as strangers, now. 

The silence settles between you, mourning both what once was and could have been.

When the door closes with Tommy on the other side of it, it feels final. An unfamiliar liquid sense of relief floods your veins, and you breathe deeply. For the first time in a week, you feel like you can suck in enough air to actually fill your lungs. You hadn’t recognized the somber, weepy creature you’d become, and you were sure no one else had, either. Ava had treated you like you were made of glass, afraid you would shatter at any moment. And as much as you had needed that, your stomach twisted into knots at feeling so helpless. Ending things with Tommy — officially — felt like giving yourself permission to dig out the shards and stitch the wound.  

You take in the room around you - a blanket strewn across the arm of the couch, wine glasses littering the coffee table, bottles lined up on the floor in front of it. You shake your head, in something that feels a little like disbelief. The reality of leaving this apartment - your home - had begun to truly set in, but the question of where you would land hung heavy in the air. 

Of course Kit would take you in, if she wasn’t multiple states and thousands of miles away. Ava was an option, having offered her couch to you almost the moment she found out, but you had leaned so heavily on her already that taking more would have made you feel too guilty. A hotel would be too expensive for an open-ended move out date, though the prospect of not having to make your own bed or wash your own sheets was tempting.  

Dropping yourself onto the couch with a heavy sigh, you begin to aimlessly scroll through the contact list in your phone. You know, deep down, that it’s for show, though you don’t know for who. You know, too, that you’ll end up at Ava’s, despite your unwillingness to do so. 

 You lean back, pulling your legs up and stretching them across the cushions. Reaching across the empty wine glasses for the television remote, you click it on before throwing your arm over your eyes. You don’t care what’s on, you just need the sounds. Of people. Of laughing. Of life. Resigning yourself to calling Ava in the morning, you slip into a restless, dreamless sleep.

The Saturday morning sun finds you still curled up on the couch, your legs pulled close to your core. Without opening your eyes, you drop your hand to the floor, feeling for your phone. Finding it nestled partially beneath the frame of the couch, you bring it up to your face, cracking your eyes as little as possible to check the time. There’s a missed call, and when it catches your attention, your eyes fly open completely. 

 Joel Miller - 1 Missed Call & Voicemail

“What the fuuuuck… ” you mumble, swiping to your calls app and bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Uh, hey peach. It’s Joel. Gimme a call back when you get this.” 

You can’t quite place his tone of voice, and your hands tremble as your brain rolls through all the reasons he might be calling you. Did something happen? Is he angry that Tommy is still at his place? Is he angry that you ended it with Tommy? Is he going to try to convince you to take him back? You play the voicemail again, to see if you can catch any stormy inflections in his deep voice - though you glean nothing more than a hazy awareness of the hunger coursing through your blood when he speaks.  

Finally sitting up and crossing your legs beneath you, you stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity. It’s not that Joel scares you, but you don’t know of any time that he’s called you for any reason. Worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth, you finally press the little image of a phone next to his name and wait for the call to connect.

“Yeah?” Joel’s tone is curt, and you can tell he’s at work based on the construction noises you hear in the background. It sets your teeth on edge. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself. Steeling your nerves.  

“Heyjoelit’s-” you manage to squeak, before you recognize the quiet way his breath hitches. 

“Peach.” and he’s soft. So soft. Softer than you’ve ever known him to be. And it’s your name on his tongue; honeyed and heavenly. You could drown in it. 

“Hi,” you whisper. “I’m just…returning your call.” 

He doesn’t answer immediately, but you hear the opening and closing of a door, the groan of an office chair, and then silence. You would think he’d hung up if you couldn’t hear his deep, even breathing. 

“Peach,” he finally says again, and your skin flares. He clears his throat. “I—there’s— you doin’ okay?” His words are rushed, clumsy, as if he’s trying to get them all out at once. The thought that Joel Miller has anything to say to you, much less too much to say to you, clouds your mind. “Could kill Tommy. Fuckin’ bastard.” 

You laugh once, idly. “I’m holdin’ it together, Joel.” 

“Attagirl.”  

Your skin prickles, and you draw in a surprised gasp. 

He continues, unaware of the change in your breathing. “Look, I, uh, know you’re busy, so I’ll get t’the point. I’ve got an extra room. For you. If ya want it, I mean. I know you’re tryin’ to get out of Tommy’s place, and I’m not lookin’ to rush you or anythin’, just..wanted to offer it up. Rent free, ‘n all that.” You imagine him running his hands through his hair as he stumbles through his speech, clenching his teeth. “Least I could do, with my brother bein’ the dickhead he is.” 

Oh. It’s pity — he feels sorry for you. You bite your tongue, sink your fingernails into your palm, force yourself to focus through the haze in your eyes. Stupid. Stupid girl. 

“Joel, I—” 

“I know ya probably have friends you can stay with. I’m not tryin’ t’be weir — peach, is this weird?” He’s lost in his own thoughts, but stops abruptly when the question escapes. He sounds just as surprised by it as you are.  

 It hangs in the air between you for a moment, and you relish just slightly in the idea that he’s floundering.  

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.” you reply, gently. “I’m okay to figure something out on my own. I’m a big girl.” 

“Oh, peach, no. No.” His response is quick, and firm; without any hesitancy, or a second thought. “Don’t for a minute think I don’t know how capable y’are. I know you can, I just don’t want you to have to.” 

 His words sizzle across your flesh, urgent and pleading. They leave you feeling dazed, unsure of the reality of the conversation. Your eyes flick to the furnishings of the apartment, desperate for something to ground you. Trepidation clutches at your throat, rendering you speechless. 

Joel shifts in his chair, and you hear him let out a long breath. “I- I know we don’t know each other. I feel like I’m scarin’ you, darlin’.” 

You shake your head, grasping for what to say. Chest tightening at the thought of his worry, the words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them. “What would Tommy say?” 

It feels like a condemnation; speaking it aloud, between the two of you. As if it would make Joel suddenly realize how wrong it was, to ask this of you. To offer this to you. 

“Tommy doesn’t get to say anythin’.” His whisper-soft tone now a growl, clawing at your insides. It covers you from head to toe, and you feel, for the first time in a very long time, shielded from the hurt. A hurt that exceeded the past week, or Tommy entirely. A hurt that was buried so far inside yourself that the aching reminder it even existed left you reeling. Tears prick at the back of your eyes, and you silently scold yourself for crying again. 

The silence on the phone is comfortable, as if Joel knows that you’re digesting everything he’s saying. True to his word, he’s not rushing you — just sharing the space with you, allowing you to take it all in. 

A loud knocking sounds from his end, and it snaps you out of your trance. 

“Shit, sorry peach. I gotta go.” He sounds further away, muffled; the intimacy of the conversation shattered, as if you had imagined it altogether. 

Then, abruptly, his warm, inviting timbre restored: “Please think about it. Bye, darlin’.”

 “I mean, are you thinking about it?” Ava questions, her eyes on the shirt she’s folding. She’s cross legged on the floor, while you stack books in the cardboard box at your feet. 

It hadn’t occurred to you how little you had to call your own, until you had to put it all in boxes.  

You don’t respond to Ava’s question immediately, instead chewing on your bottom lip gently. Turning it over and over in your mind, formulating the most diplomatic response. 

“How bad would it be if I was?” You avoid her eyes, which you know have turned to daggers at your back. 

It’s her turn to mull the question over, bobbing her head side to side as she considers. 

“Tommy’d be pissed.” It’s pointed, but not malicious. Honest. “But…we don’t care what Tommy thinks anymore, do we?” 

 You drop your head, smiling mildly behind the curtain of your hair. No, we in fact, do not. 

“Plus, he’s very…handsome.” Ava chooses her words carefully, but you know to read between the lines: Joel is fuckin’ hot. “The whole ‘older man’ thing really works for you, babe.” 

“Kit would be more upset than Tommy, I guarantee it.” You laugh softly, unable to help yourself. You get cheated on by someone more than fifteen years older than you, and immediately move in with someone even older? You imagine your sister tutting at you, ever the mother-figure. 

“No doubt.” Ava rolls her eyes affectionately as you turn to her. You plant your hands on your hips and survey the bedroom around you. “Seriously, though, how would the…logistics of living with Joel work? Would you, like, have dinner together? Hang out? Be friends?”

You laugh, despite the anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach. “I don’t know, Av. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’m kind of hung up on the whole ‘moving in with my ex-boyfriend’s brother’ part of it all.” 

Now it’s her turn to plant her hands at her hips. “Are we still harboring some feelings about Tommy Miller, doll?” Her eyebrow quirks. 

“Av! Come on. We spent two years together! I’m not just gonna get over it like that.” You snap your fingers before bending down to close the now-full box below you. 

“You know what they say…the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Ava waggles her eyebrows, and you laugh, full-bellied, at her levity. “You’re a fox, girl. Believe it or not.” 

You roll your eyes, shoving the box out of the door of the bedroom, into the hallway. 

“And he’ll be helping you move all this, right? To his house?” 

“Nope!” you chirp brightly, “that would be you, babe!”

Kit, as you had anticipated, is not thrilled about the idea of you moving in with Joel. You call her from your office phone on Monday morning, gripping the receiver so hard your knuckles are white. 

“Are you kidding? How are you even entertaining the idea?” Her voice is unflinching, and you tap the fingers of your free hand against your desktop, mildly annoyed. 

“I’m 28, Kit.” You remind her, as you always do. “I’m the one who would deal with the fallout. Not you. Besides, it’s not like I have a ton of options.” 

She scoffs, and you can imagine her rolling her eyes. “So you’ve told him yes, then?”  

“No! That’s why I’m…taking a survey. Feeling it out.” You mumble, “You’re obviously not on board.” 

Kit sighs, drawn out and heavy. “I know you don’t care what I think. I know you’re an adult. I just…worry about you. I’m so far away, and if anything happened…” 

You cut her off. “I appreciate that. A lot. But at some point, I have to take care of myself.” 

“I don’t think moving in with a 50 year old man qualifies as taking care of yourself.” She’s trying to be delicate, you can tell, but her remark is biting. 

Twirling the phone cord around your fingers, you purse your lips. 

“Why don’t you come stay with us for a bit? Maybe an extended vacation?” You can picture the sticky countertops, loud toys, an uncomfortable pullout couch. And Kit’s husband, awkward and gangly, never shutting up about ‘the economy’. Kit sounds somewhat hopeful, though, and it makes your heart quiver. 

“Kit…I can’t leave my job. The one stable thing I have going for me.” 

 “They have finance jobs here.” 

 “I’m not letting Tommy run me out of Austin.” You echo Ava’s words, an indignant feeling rising in your chest. “I’ve got a whole career here. This is…a minor setback. If I do move in with Joel, it won’t be for forever.”    

She laughs softly, but you clock the reluctance. 

“I promise. I’m okay. I am okay. I will be okay.” 

Kit pauses. “You’ll tell me if you’re not?” 

“Yeah. Yes. Of course.” 

“Well,” she clicks her tongue against her teeth, “best of luck, peach. It sounds like you have your mind made up.”

You shove the last box into the back of your Subaru, and dust your hands off on your leggings. 

     “Are you absolutely sure you’re okay with this, Joel?” 

     “Yes. Stop askin’ me.”   

      “If I’m too much, at all, I don’t have to stay.” 

     “Peach.” It’s a warning. “It’s Tommy that I need out of my space.” 

Calling Joel back to accept his offer had been harder than every other aspect of moving out of Tommy’s apartment. Once you and Ava had packed all of your belongings, you stood back to observe — and it was like you had never lived there in the first place. The only thing that truly felt different about the space was that you knew you didn’t live there anymore. You feel a pang in your chest thinking about how Tommy would feel without you there — you didn’t know if him missing you or not missing you would be worse. 

“Anything left?” Silas, Ava’s boyfriend-du-jour asks, from your elbow. 

You shake your head, pulling down the hatch to close the back of the car. “Just the key. Which you don’t have to stick around for.” You give him a watery smile, feeling the weight of the day through every muscle in your body. 

He nods. “Cool, cool. I’ll grab Ava. We can meet you over there?” 

You hum in agreement before turning back to the building. Going up the steps to the second floor feels mechanical, a recreation of the thousands of times you’ve done it before, and your legs carry you automatically. The last time, now. Pulling in a large breath, you exhale through your nose, centering yourself while you click the door open.  

Sunlight streams through the windows, bathing everything in the late afternoon light. You glaze your eyes over the room, not searching for anything forgotten, but committing it to memory one final time. You recognize that it feels less like a chapter closing and more like a freefall into something entirely unknown — into the mouth of something that lurks beneath the surface, teeth gnashing, ready to consume. 

Leaving the key on the kitchen island feels like an offering to that dark entity, but you’re ready — willing — to tumble headfirst into it. So you do, with no grandeur, and no looking back, just a deep breath out and the millstone around your neck lifted. 

Joel’s truck isn’t in the driveway when you arrive at his house. Ava is posted up against her car, Silas still in the driver’s seat, arm out the window at her waist. You wave as you pull up, masking the fear radiating through your extremities. 

You throw the Subaru into park, and Ava jogs over to meet you. Her eyes are wide, but kind, as you close the door behind you. 

“Okay?” She asks, her hand gentle on your arm. 

You nod, swallowing hard. “Feels kinda surreal, Av. But I’m good.” 

Brushing her off, you make your way to the front door. There’s an envelope clipped to the mailbox, ‘peach’ scribbled on the front of it, and your hands shake as you grasp it. 

‘I wanted to give you some space while you got settled. Your key is in the envelope. Make yourself at home — I’ll check on you in the morning. —Joel’ 

Your heart flutters as you pull out a house key, with a keychain in the shape of a peach threaded through the top of it. Your breath catches in your chest as you run the metal through your fingers, tightening them around it. If Tommy’s key had been an anchor, Joel’s feels like a lifesaver. 

Blinking back tears, hands still shaking, you slide the key into the lock and twist. 

Eat your heart out, Tommy Miller.

[heydranga]

This is a random thought. Was playing sdv and found Sam's Christmas shopping list. I noticed that Abigail wasn't on the list.

So I have a headcanon that abigail and sam don't actually like each other and that the only reasons they even hang out is between being best friends with sebastian and their mothers are besties too.

I imagine sam and Abigail to have a Tuck and Ming Ming type relationship and Sebastian is Lenny. (If you know who I'm talking about kudos to you, shout out to multimedia animation)

It kind of makes sense I kind of feel that abigail kind of forces herself on Sebastian and it kind of at times makes him feel even more trapped at Pelican town. Meanwhile Sam is a ball of sunshine who's super extroverted and, as a fellow introvert that can get extremely tiring, but Sam also seems to be the type to know when to stop pushing.

When I first saw Abigail and Sebastian, I thought oh yeah that makes sense. But the more I see how much she's near her house and got her heart events, albeit unintentionally, I started wondering if she was using seb a bit.

What if Abigail is using sebastian as an out. Imagine if you will...

Abigail wants freedom same as sebastian. But Abigail is more daring and doesn't know when to stop pushing. Abigail would a 100% date the new farmer and/or Sebastian just to piss off her father. She's wild because she knows it pisses her father off. Don't get me wrong Abigail I have a like/hate for her. She sets me off and not in a good way. When I dated her in a save I felt used, like I get you want to do the same things as me but are you actually prepared for that type of thing?

Do you really want to leave pelican town and find a better life for yourself or do you just want Pierre to get off your back so you can have breathing room to do as you please?

Sebastian just wants to feel more appreciated and wants people to see that he really is just introverted and not emo or goth. He's not trying to rebel he just wants to feel heard and listened to.

Sam is actually a good listener which is why Sebastian doesn't mind being around him. He knows that if he asks Sam to stop pushing, he will. They hang out a lot more together without abigail and I feel like abigail kind of forced her way into the group.

Something tells me Sam and Sebastian had been best friends for a while and maybe Penny was apart of they're group. Sebastian never seems to mind Penny and Sam obviously likes her. I imagine that Sam was so used to having 2 introverted friends and being the one to lightly push them out of their shell but respecting when they aren't comfortable and letting it go.

People Sam is childish and I definitely get that but he does genuinely care and when the situation comes to it he will step up to the plate. He's spoiled but not stupid or rotten.

Anyway thank you for reading this is just my opinion please no hate.

I also play sdv on the switch so no spoilers for the update if any of this changes.

[hearts401]

Hai :3 do u have any wacky wild michael hcs

oh do i!

both adult and teen. loser has been on my mind again.

He gets super fucking cold for no reason and blamed it on ghosts until after fnaf 6 where he brought it up as a joke and the ghost kids were like "...none of us did that" and now he's convinced theres a whole extra ghost after him. (it was cc he didnt mean to initially but cassidy thought it was funny)

He talked to the animatronics all the fuckin time. like he just. chatted with them. especially the fnaf 2 ones. charlie had to sit there and watch him talk to actual robots thinking they were kids. they werent and she told him that in fnaf 6 because she found it so fucking funny

clumsy as HELL i know that man was banging his knee in the SL vents and swearing under his breath

teen mike was also clumsy. probably split his lip on concrete all the time as a kid.

he was also the kinda kid to say "nah, check this out!!" and wake up in the hospital

this is a gross one but. he dealt with bugs a lot post scoop (especially. flies. and what comes with them. iykyk). he'd come into work on mondays smelling like a can of bug repellant. you wont believe what he showers with instead of water.

He was williams least favorite but they had a weird relationship between him moving out and elizabeths death. like some days william despised him and michael just wanted to blow them both up with his mind and some days he comes home like "Hey mike whats up want some pizza for dinner tonight?" and michaels like "fuck yeah why not."

he's henrys favorite afton as a teen and he knows it. and he uses it. Henry fuckin loved that kid he had the man wrapped around his finger. William also notices it and he gets mad at henry over it.

in relation to that, henry was really gentle with michael which was. not helpful im sorry 😭

mike sleeps pretty casually. hes not a light sleeper but not a deep sleeper. unless hes tired. if he hasnt been getting enough sleep youll know because he sleeps like a ROCK.

he fucking loves italian food. for no reason. he just does

he unironically eats beans on toast. He tried it as a joke and then just. never stopped.

he still has his foxy mask it just doesnt fit him. he tries it on again and it hurts his head

cannot afford to go out to eat often and GOD does he complain about it. he is SO FUCKING LOUD when he complains about it. he wants his takeout man

Loves animals but they hate him. A crow tried to take a bite out of him post scoop once nad he had to fight for his life. bro saw his family for a moment there

he is so polite most of the time but if you talk to him after his shift he'll fuck you up. rudest bitch on the block and he was an asshole teen so he knows how to run his mouth

he plays solitaire.

does not know about the context but whenever hes depressed he says "tomorrow is another day" because time moves on anyways!!!! also idk i think its neat

he ate shit in the middle of his shift once and bashed his face on one of the counters and his coworker found the blood the next day and managed to start a rumor that someone died there until michael came in to work with his face bandaged up.

these are so rambly but funny so im gonna keep going

skateboards <3 totally tried to show off and ate shit until william told him if he went to the hospital again he'd take the skateboard. he still ate shit. just hid it better.

taught evan to do a lot. If he didnt feel like bullying him (for an array of reasons, but the biggest is just. boredom. or loneliness. or a mix) he'd teach him something just because he could. skipping rocks, flying a kite. michael doesnt remember it very well but evan does

cassidy kicked him in the knee so hard he was limping for an hour and so he found the golden freddy suit and kicked it too at one point. she didnt feel it tho. and jumpscared him out of spite.

he loves dogs and once brought evan to see one because his friends were busy and he hates being alone and the dog bit the shit out of evan. foreshadowing.

oh yeah i totally think he gets lonely btw. do not leave that guy alone he will get very sad and pathetic!!!

im capping myself here because jesus christ.

[kitthepurplepotato]

New to the story? Start here! -> PART 1

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Chapter 4 - “Dynadick” and the case of the heartbroken Chargebolt.

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Warnings: Swear words, Bakugou being an asshole as always.

Summary: Bakugou does not appreciate flirting. Bakugou is also not fond of listening to the heartbroken Denki’s nonsense.

Special thank you to @sozainturpal for the lovely message, it made me so happy I “accidentally” wrote a full chapter after reading it 💜

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This absolute shithead.

Screaming nonsense in the middle of the morning, ruining your precious coffee time.

And did he just call you a… dingbat? Who the actual fuck uses that word anyway?

What is a dingbat?! Is it a bat that… dings?

What is “dinging”?

Can a bat ding?

Holly shit, you definitely haven’t had enough coffee for this conversation. You are also a foreigner. You have no idea how offended you should be right now.

To be fair, we are talking about Dynamight here. This word sounds like a praise from his filthy mouth.

“So, this is the updated database.” You sigh into the silence and sit down by your laptop. Your place is in the far corner of Bakugou’s office, almost opposite his own fancy-pants desk.

As you concentrate on signing in, you can feel Bakugo’s breath on your neck. Can he not bring his bloody chair over and sit down next to you?!

“While in different circumstances I would be more than happy to have you so close to my face, I find your closeness quite unpleasant and slightly inappropriate right now, boss.”

Well… you shouldn’t have said that.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Says the now tomato red faced explosive hero, clearly not having as much fun as you are right now. Fuck the coffee, making Bakugou uncomfortable is your new favorite part of your morning routine. “Do you have a crush on me or something?!”

“I mean, you actually look quite handsome when you like, shut up. But as that never happens, the answer is no, I do not have a crush on you, I’m afraid.”

For your surprise, he does not lash out on you. Instead, he rolls his eyes and squats next to you to give you some personal space. What have you done? Is Bakugo broken again? Will he play the fake dead card and hide from his embarrassment as he did the last time? Is this how he copes with things?

Where did you leave your coffee?!

“Yeah, I heard that line before.” He sighs and waits for you to start your demonstration, but fuck that, you are really curious right now.

Is he… self conscious about this? Is Bakugo actually capable of human feelings? Did you just tear open a barely mended wound from the past?

You might be the second biggest asshole after Katsuki, but even you can feel ashamed of your own words sometimes.

“Who… said that to you?”

And now you are stuttering. Great.

“Someone in High School. I haven’t shut up ever since.” Grins the blonde and you can’t help but roll your eyes. He was faking it. Of course he was. You were about to say sorry yet here he is, grinning like a wild animal, all calm and collected, like he wasn’t about to die of embarrassment 30 seconds ago. He won this fight and he got you good.

“You are such a dick.”

“Yep, that’s me. Get used to it.”

Haha. Dynadick.

Jesus, where is your coffee again?

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“Haha. Dynadick.”

Loud laughter fills the room as Mr. Katsuki rolls on floor, hyperventilating.

The menace might be a pain in the ass, but her red face when she realized she said this out loud was worth waking up for.

“I didn’t mean to say this out loud, goddamit.” The menace squeaks and oh boy, Mr. Katsuki is having the time of his life.

The loud commotion made Kirishima appear in the door as well, and Katsuki can’t get over the pure dread on the Menace’s face so he decides to push it until there’s nothing left but pure mortification.

“She called me Dynadick, Eiji. Dynadick.” Whines the hero on the floor with tears in his eyes. Kirishima is puzzled, he clearly has no idea if he should laugh with his best friend or try his best to save his poor new colleague from her misery; she clearly spoke out loud again, just how she did on her interview.

Is there a way to do both? He kinda wants to laugh.

“I can’t be close to her face because it’s inappropriate but she can call me, her boss, Dynadick. She’s such a hypocrite.”

“IT WAS A FUCKING ACCIDENT, GODDAMMIT!”Stands up the Menace (what was her real name again? Mr. Katsuki has no idea and he definitely does not care enough to ask) and slams her tiny arms on the top of the desk. As the desk slowly shakes and breaks in half, she points at the laptop in the middle of the rumble on the floor. Well, at least the laptop will not need replacing. That can’t be said about the poor table. Rest in peace, brother. What a way to go. “GO AND CHECK THE DATABASE ALONE YOU MISERABLE FUCK, I’M GOING TO A PUB!”

“It’s 7:30, darling. AM.”

Oh, poor Kirishima.

“No shit, Sherlock!” Barks back the Menace and leaves the building, leaving poor Kirishima with a mentally unstable Bakugou who’s still laughing on the floor like a maniac.

“Can you guys at least try to not break something every day? Our budget might be big, but we will eventually run out of money.”

“It was so fucking worth it.” Cries the blonde, with no remorse in his trembling voice.

This will be a long day. Kirishima hopes Y/N will be back by the afternoon so he can make sure she’s fine and not resigning on her second day.

Bakugo has the same hopes, but for different reasons; he’s already plotting his next mischief, and a drunk Menace sounds like the perfect target to get his daily entertainment.

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Later that day…

The whole office jumps in unison when the main door slams shut after you. You definitely owe Kirishima an apology and you certainly hope you still have a job and you won’t be asked to leave - you did run away without a warning and you did go to a pub; in broad daylight, in the middle of your shift. On a positive note tho, you already sobered up.

“Y/N! Are you okay? Do you want to talk?”

Of course he is all over you the moment you walk in. Of course HE feels bad while the main culprit is happily sitting in his office, probably drinking YOUR chai tea latte. Nevermind.

“I’m sorry. I’m really really sorry, boss. I just needed a breather. I’m fine. I’m back. I won’t cause any more trouble… well… today.” You blush and look away to the other direction. You might have hundreds of quirks under your sleeve, but somehow, non of them could cure your inability to lie.

Kirishima only snickers on your response and gives you a tiny hug. He’s so precious, goddamit!

“I appreciate your honestly and please, don’t worry about it. It will get easier as the time goes. I’m just happy you are still here and willing to take the responsibility for your actions.” With a tap on your shoulders he lets you make your way to your office.

You can hear chatter coming from the other side of the door. Is someone… crying? Well, it’s definitely not Dynamight as you can hear him grumbling aggressively in the background, clearly not happy about the sudden outburst of this man. Who’s stupid enough to go to Dynamight with his problems? This guy definitely has a death wish or he is an absolute idiot.

As you open the door to take a little look, you see a blondish-yellow haired guy in a leather jacket.

Oh.

He is indeed an absolute idiot, but in a really nice way.

You heard all about him from your bestie.

“Are you listening, BakuBro?! She dumped me! Again! How many times do I need to have my heart broken? What have I done to deserve this?” Cries the man, ignoring your now obvious presence in the room.

“First of all, I would dump you 100 times too if I would be forced to live with your annoying ass. Second of all, why the fuck do I need to listen to your nonsense? Don’t you have friends?!” Shouts the blonde, making the other blonde cry even more.

“You are my friend…”

Okay, you can’t listen to this shit anymore.

“Well, I’m sorry for eavesdropping on you two, but… Mr. Dynamight, you are an absolute asshole. This man is clearly depressed and heartbroken, can you at least listen to him?! He might be here because he has no one else to go to, did you think about that?! Don’t kick someone who’s already on the floor!” There is an almost silent “oh fuck off” coming Bakugou but you respectfully ignore it and you sit down next to the crying man on the sofa. “My name is Y/N darling, I’m the asshole’s new assistant. Please, don’t listen to him. You are always welcome in this office in the time of need. I can listen to you. What happened?” This is clearly a cry for help, bless his little broken heart. This poor yellow haired man just makes you want to protect him and talk to him about the magical powers of a silver shampoo.

Because this guy needs it.

So much.

Soooo so much.

Okay, that’s not important now.

“Hi, I’m Kaminari Denki.” Sniffles the guy. “I got dumped by my girlfriend Jirou for the twentieth time. I did nothing. Is my existence such a bother to everyone?”

“Yes, it is, now leave.” Comments the asshole of the century, and nope, you can’t do this anymore.

“If you say a single fucking word while I talk to this man, I’ll hang your virgin balls on the nearest lamp post and I’ll blow them up so well, not even the best cleaning brigade in Japan can get rid of them.” You give Bakugou a threatening look and start focusing on the now shaking man on the sofa.

“You are a lovely human being. You might be a bit louder than most, you might annoy some people, but you have all the rights to exist. You just need to find the right people to be with. Also, sometimes people don’t appreciate what they have until they loose it, so what I would do if I were you, I would go home, tell my girl that I’m okay with her decision and I would leave for a few days or weeks to give her some space. Trust me, if she loves you, she will come back to you. If not, there will be someone better who will appreciate you as you are. Don’t underestimate yourself, just because you are different. If Dynamight can exist, so can you.”

Needless to say, you managed to break this man with your words, but that’s fine. Sometimes, you need to completely fall apart to be able to put yourself together in the right way.

As this man you just met smears all his saliva and other disgusting bodily fluids all over your shirt, you sigh into the void. Your life is an absolute joke but if this little conversation did something to help another person, then you don’t mind it that much. At least you made a new friend today, a quite useful one at that. He might come in handy when your phone is out of fuel.

“That last part was unnecessary.” Scoffs your boss, but he can’t deny that even he was a bit moved by your kind words.

“I had to prove my point somehow.” You smile cheekily and stroke Kaminari’s hair to entertain yourself for the time being. “Well, this is definitely enough drama for one day, let’s bury the hatchet for today, Mr. Bakugou. I also told Kirishima I won’t cause any more problems today.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, weirdo.” Bakugou rolls his eyes but he indeed stays quiet for the rest of the day.

You might just be a bit sensitive after all this love drama, but you swear you can feel the change in the air around you two.

Will it stay this way? Probably not; but you can’t help but think back on your words from the morning; Bakugou is indeed quite handsome when he shuts the hell up.

-> Next Chapter!

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Anyone remembers who said that line to Bakugo in high school? :P

Wow, this chapter is a bit different than usual, but I really wanted to give the story a bit of a push. And don’t worry; you guys still hate each other, we are really far from the end game! :D

Also, no pigeons in this chapter. I’m heartbroken.

Have a lovely weekend, guys 💜

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Taglist:

(feel free to ask me to add you if you like this story btw 💜)

@ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai @nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal

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[imaginespazzi]

PARRRRTTTT SEVEN REACCTTTIONNS

- nivi u angel bby thank you so much for the update!!! i always look forward to monday updates (west coast girly u did it with hours to spare) BUT REMEMBER don’t over work yourself over getting us updates!!! ily!!!

- my goal for the chapter is to stay far away from cliffs because i seem to always threaten them!

- stop paige’s little mini panic then relief when azzi and stephie are still there 😭😭 sweet girl went through it:(

- “and maybe this is how i become whole again.” oh hey it’s me, remember before i started reading i said i would stay clear of the cliffs? yeah well, fuck that! find me a cliff because i died dead. screaming, crying, throwing up. NIVI u are my evil genius but please please just protect her heart PLEASE.

- okay paige just left the bed if she leaves the house without speaking to azzi and stephie u might finally get some tears out of my eyes! i rlly don’t think she would but…

- stop poor drew 😢drew being annoyed with paige switching teams?!? im nervous for drew and azzi reunion.

- going to be honest i don’t really interact with azzis brothers stuff anywhere so i don’t know anything abt Tallulah but she seems so sweet in your fic ❤️‍🔥

- stop the fudds missing paige and talking about her😭😭 im on the floor next to the cliff bleeding out

- stop tim and paige mean so much to me

- stop paige legit tripping over her feet at the sight of stephie upset MY HEART

- STEPHIE ASKING PAIGE TO PROMISE SHE WILL NEVER LEAVE 😭😭 im scared

- I PROMISE ILL TRY TO STAY. fuck i’m scared

- god. your writing is a masterpiece. this whole situation is damaging my soul. i don’t hold it again azzi, im fully convinced she has her reasoning that were VAILD but oh my god i feel so bad for paige (this is not me saying that azzi didn’t go through shit too) but my poor bby is terrified i feel so bad ☹️

- stop stephie really is a mini azzi 🥹🥹

- love.

- kill

- me

- now

- let’s go back to me at the bottom of the cliff bleeding out, my pulse is barley there now.

- STWAAAPPPP paige spoils stephie it’s so cute

- YOUR DAUGHTER 🥹🥹🥹🥹

- i can’t tell if that helped or made my pulse worse

- hey so my baby fever is still here and killing me.

- “ONLY FOR YOU AND YOUR DAUGHTER.” my pulse just gave out, flatlined, not breathing, dead 🤗 thank you so much.

- YES PAIGE YOU ARE SAFE WITH AZZI.

- JANNNNNAAA MY GIRRLL

- Aunty Chérie you say? hmm i can just smell paige’s jealousy

- “you’re supposed to be holding me and i’m supposed to be holding you; it was meant to be us.” hey so i somehow just died even more😁

- okay here is the thing, i feel for olivia i do. the situation most have been hurtful to her however, CUNT CUNT CUNT DONT U DARE EVEN THINK A NEGATIVE THOUGHT AGAINST THE AMAZING, PERFECT, GORGEOUS, SMART, TALENTED, LOVELY, AZZI FUDD. her and her passive aggressive comments can leave.

- OHHHHH AZZI FUDD, YOU ATE HER UP SHE MAY BE 5th BEST BUT MY GOD AREBU NUMBER ONE BY MILLLLLLLES.

- “if it was azzi” paige babe let’s fast forward to that divorce.

- also paige going on tik tok spirals abt azzi while her wife is in the same room is just WILD and kinda sad almost makes me feel bad for mrs. cunt (my sympathy for her evaporated the second when opened her mouth around azzi 🤬🤬)

- the whole last section. omg. i know i already died then came back to life but i am not FLINGING myself back off the cliff 😁

- GODDDD NIVI u talented, talented women i cant believe how you always are able to amaze me with your writing.

- i’m gonna be honest it’s 2am for me i started reading at 10 and i just finished. i kept having to take breaks because i was screaming, no tears though!

- chapter was 100,000/10

- QUESTIONS FOR NEXT CHAPTER:

- OKAY so ms french girl whose name i can’t remember at the moment is no longer playing with the valkyries… are we gonna get like flashbacks of azzi and her in future chapters?

- this may be dumb but if the olympics were 2028 next ones were, 2032 and its 2033 right? so did the other olympics pass? are we gonna learn more about that? did azzi and paige win gold? IM SO CURIOUS!!!!

- okay that’s all i got i think…sorry for yapping so much!

oh also i kept dying but it’s def gonna keep happening tbh

-🤩🤩

HI MY LOVEEEEEE <3

- You're literally the most precious soul ever and lowkey I really needed to hear that cause I do mayhaps stress just a little bit about updating so thank you :)

- I like that you said you were going to stay away from cliffs and then managed to get through exactly one bullet without jumping off a cliff...

- I lowkey don't know a lot about Tallulah either because I only really have second-hand knowledge of the lives so I'm just lowkey molding her into what works for the plot I guess? But I'm sure she's lovely irl too!

- Circumstance truly is a bitch because I think they're both pretty scared of things beyond their control being an obstacle again

- Baby you really went through it for a couple of paragraphs there huh?

- Listen if I have to suffer through baby fever, you're all suffering with me like I keep having to remind myself that a college dorm is not appropriate for a baby bassinet

- MRS CUNT made me cackle out loud

- Omg not 4 hours babes lmao but I'm glad I still haven't brought you to tears!

- Hmmm I lowkey don't think there will be flashbacks of Clémence like that because her and Azzi's past isn't quite as integral as their present (opposite of Olivia in a sense I guess)

- The next Olympics were in fact 2032...I wonder what happened? I wonder if we'll find out?

Never apologize for yapping, it makes me so happy to hear everyone's thoughts!

[thatoneaceinthecorner]

RQG Art Masterpost

Hey guys! So recently I've had a wave of notes on some of my old rqg art, and a few new followers. I got really nostalgic about rqg and decided I wanted an easier way to access my rqg-related art (other than the dumpster fire that is tumblr's tagging system), and I wanted other people who are just finding my art to have an easy way of looking at the rest, if they want to. So I dug through everything and made a masterpost! This post contains links to all the rqg art I've ever posted on tumblr, as well as a couple images that I couldn't find the original posts for, despite all the digging. It's loosely organized, emphasis on loosely, but I hope it should be fun to look through if anyone ever feels like it. Spoiler warning for the whole show, just in case anyone new isn’t done with their first listen. There's also stuff in here that's pretty old and that I don't necessarily love anymore, but seeing how my skills progressed over time is still pretty neat. This is a long post, so I've put all the links under the cut. Enjoy!

My top three pieces and why they're my favorites

General:

Shoin's sketch of London

RQG Inktober: Scars

Resurrection Ritual in the Ursan Village

Zolf Smith, cleric of what comes next (comic)

Alex's horrible Barret Monster with knife arms

Ada and Tesla in their lab with the Babbage brain

"Why didn't you do more" (it's all your fault comic)

Blue-veined arm in Other London

Zolf and Azu hear the hivemind

Sasha and Cicero leave Rome behind them

Apophis in human form

Party camping outside the Garden of Yerlik

Kantu!! Because I thought they were cute

Also these two drawings, the ones I couldn't find the original posts for. Azu giving Hamid a piggy-back, and a really old drawing of Azu in Carter's mind museum.

Sasha Racket:

Sasha hangs out with gargoyles (and sphinxes)

Sasha portrait

Goodbye, Brock

Goodbye, Grizzop

If Grizzop had lived and helped raised Sasha's kids

Sasha deserves bat wings, as a treat

"I so wish you could meet them"

My very first drawing of Sasha, post-Kafka fight

Wilde:

Wilde masterpost (yes he has his own)

"We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars"

His brain might've popped

Wilde looking pretty (plus bonus shitpost sketch)

"Oh Wilde, you must have been so scared"

Wilde with blue veins

Wilde gets his magic back (first time I ever drew him)

Zoscar:

Wild and Zolf in the rain, epilogue

"We've got this" "Yeah, we've got this" aka Parallels

Breath of Life

Wilde's first death

Peace and comfort (for once)

Actually some more peace and comfort

And a little more

Aaand back to some angst

RQG Zine Art:

The End of the World As We Know It

How Little He Matters

Rome Is Where the Heart Is

Animatics/Animations/Videos:

Hamimatic - Immature

Zolf is the sand guardian, guardian of the sand

Wilde and Zolf in the rain but animated this time

Sasha protecting Wilde in Paris

Time lapse of some of the "Breath of Life" drawing

Ben Meredith quoting Jenna Marbles (starring Toothbrush Zolf)

Doodles, sketches, and requests:

Messy busts of the whole party (plus Wilde, obviously)

Azu and Grizzop outfit/deity swap

Never wake a sleeping Barnes (comic)

Toothbrush Zolf

Azu caring for undead Sasha

Ada mourning Babbage AU

Fun sketch page of various PCs

Domestic Zolf and Wilde

Canon-compliant under-dressed Zolf (look he's posing like the coppertone baby from that one brand of sunscreen, i thought it was funny)

Sasha and Wilde bonding time

If Sasha and Cel met each other

Sasha and Zolf, amputee buddies

Wilde in a flower crown (Everyone Liked That)

More domestic Zolf and Wilde

Sasha playing with Hamid's twin brothers

Sasha looking after Grizzop's kids

Zolf and Wilde hugging

Sasha and Skraak, dynamic duo

Barnes and Carter hugging

Kobold in the kitchen with Zolf

Ada holding down the fort

Happy Hamid

Cel and Grag

Wilde and Hamid high-five

[clickerflight]

Oh, how far you've fallen Part 2

I'mma go ahead and call this story uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, actually, IDK. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna continue this story for a bit so if you come up with a good title for this, let me know.

Also, I hope this all makes sense. I've been really out of it today so hopefully that doesn't reflect in my writing. I was fighting for my life figuring out what happened next and then made potential for a whole series. Wild times out here.

Content warning: somewhat dehumanization? Kidnapping. For sure selling someone into being a lab rat, electrocution

Part 1

.........................................

Agent/Henchman - Ivan/Gale

Villain - Kolt

Scientist - LeAnn

…………………

Kolt was so incredibly delirious, but thankfully was too tired to struggle in Ivan’s arms. Ivan was convinced that Kolt didn't even know what was going on. He murmured indistinguishable words as Ivan carried his old mentor’s impossibly thin frame through the halls of the labs, outrunning the flashlights behind them. 

Ivan turned a corner, the map of the building clear in his mind. He did everything he could to keep from being cornered. He only had one chance here. 

Well, less than one chance, really. He was royally screwed no matter if he succeeded or didn’t since being here was an extreme middle finger to his handler. But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was each new breath, each new step that didn’t slip on the slick tile, each new heartbeat he could feel under Kolt’s skin. 

The fire escape came into view and a relieved laugh bubbled out of Ivan, mimicked softly by Kolt. He shouldered his way through, alarms screaming through the building making Kolt flinch. Down the stairs, leaping down onto a dumpster in the alleyway, and he was off. 

He was in the clear now. 

Well, he thought he was. 

A dark van pulled up, blocking the alley, and equally dark clothed men came pounding out of it, guns in hand. 

Ivan was torn between running and staying still to try and explain himself to his agency. His choice was made for him when Kolt whimpered, pressing his horribly scarred and bruised face into his shirt, trembling. Ivan sighed, letting the tension drain from his muscles and he stood still as the agents took his weapons from him and led him into the van. 

With that, they were off. 

The getaway vehicle was, admittedly, convenient. 

……………………

“Terribly sorry for keeping you up, Kate,” Ivan said, a little ashamed as he stepped out of the van, still holding Kolt who refused to let go of him. 

Kate stood with her arms crossed and her eyebrow raised. “That’s all you have to say? Ivan, do you not remember how long we’ve been working in that lab? You have quite possibly ruined everything we have been working on for months!”

Ivan didn’t reply, simply shifting Kolt in his arms so she could see the scars and injuries he carried on his frail body. Kolt was nearly unconscious at this point. 

She frowned. “Kolt?”

“Yeah,” Ivan said, tucking Kolt against himself again, sharing his body warmth with the man in a way he had never imagined he would. He had never imagined Kolt being small enough for him to carry in the first place. 

Kate frowned thoughtfully. “Come on,” she sighed. “We’ll figure this out inside.”

They walked through the underground garage, Kate's heels echoing around them as Ivan watched her walk ahead. He had no idea how this was going to play out. He remembered what happened when he was captured back when he was still Gale. He had the scars to remember it by. Would they do the same to Kolt? There was no way. He was so fragile. Besides, Ivan doubted that Kolt even remembered anything interesting and had been trapped in that building for long enough that he wouldn’t know anything that had happened in the last few months in the villain community. 

Kolt was finally unconscious as they reached the elevator, and only a couple of the darkly clothed agents joined them in the elevator as the others headed to go take their gear off. There was silence in the elevator for a moment before Ivan cleared his throat. 

“So, what happens now?”

“We will discuss that when my guest gets here.”

“Alright, but Kate. Please keep in mind that he’s-”

“I understand, Ivan,” she snapped, not even turning to look at him. “But you are not in a position to ask for anything for him. Understand me? I appreciate why you have done this, however, that does not change the fact that you are most certainly in trouble and have made my job much harder.”

Ivan huffed silently, annoyed but he didn’t dare argue with his handler. He stared at his reflection, still horrified with how tiny Kolt had become. He’d been taller and more bulked than Ivan. He had been intimidating, once, though you wouldn’t be able to guess that now. 

The door opened and Kate led the way down to the med bay. “Drop him off here. You’re coming with me to speak with my guest.”

Ivan gave her a look and very reluctantly lay Kolt down, coaxing his unconscious fingers out of his clothing and into the sheets on the bed. A medic came out from the back, rubbing his eyes and he winced when he saw Kolt. 

“See what you can do for him,” Kate told the medic, who nodded. 

Ivan hesitated for one moment before he followed Kate back to the elevator. The silence this time was longer and more uncomfortable. Ivan was glad when they reached the conference floor. He wanted to get his reprimand over with. 

Kate turned into one of the rooms and Ivan froze. 

Dr. LeAnn stood up, a prim smile on her face. “Hello, Kate,” she said as one of the agents shoved Ivan into the room, putting a hand on his shoulder and trying to guide him to the seat next to where Kate was getting seated. 

“What’s going on here?” Ivan asked, voice trembling with anger as he shook off the agent’s hand. 

Kate sighed. “Ivan, sit down.”

“No! What is she doing here?!”

Kate shared a look with Dr. LeAnn. “Ivan, we have been working on infiltrating that lab for months. LeAnn was our informant on the inside in exchange for a favor.”

“Oh, so your name is Ivan?” LeAnn said, eyeing him over. She curled her lip and said, “You shouldn’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. I hear you were Kolt’s dog for a while. One would think you would know how to obey after all of that.”

Ivan hissed, his anger becoming incomprehensible. 

Kate sighed. “See what I’ve had to work with? I do apologize for all of that. There is an issue, however. Kolt cannot go back with you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” LeAnn asked, turning her anger on Kate as agents held Ivan back. 

“You have damaged him far past the point the contract has allowed. And according to the records we have from your conversation with Ivan, you have allowed him to become useless. We asked you to turn him into a weapon, not do this to him.”

“Trust me, I tried,” LeAnn said with a shrug. “Weapons take the right base to make, and he wasn’t it. He broke before I wanted him too, and I wasn’t even getting started. I did, however, learn a lot about his genetics. All I need is a base who will withstand more than he could and I could give you a weapon per the contract.”

“Kate,” Ivan growled warningly. She glared over at him. 

“Shut up, Ivan. I am trying to clean up the mess you made here.”

“You were trying to turn him into a weapon!? What could you possibly want him for!?”

Kate closed her eyes, taking a slow and steadying breath like she was talking with an impossible child, and Ivan started seeing red as indignation fueled the fire already started in him. 

“Ivan, to fight villains, sometimes you need a villain weapon. Is it that hard to understand?”

LeAnn was eyeing him again, something hungry in her eyes as Ivan tried to keep his anger at bay, the fear that dropped into his stomach helping somewhat. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, we are,” LeAnn said. “You’re lucky I have so much pull at the lab. I should still be able to pull enough trust to continue using their equipment and experiments after this debacle… that is, Kate, as long as I start working on a project.”

Kate looked between LeAnn and Ivan and Ivan felt the fear of God enter into every cell in his body, images of Kolt’s wretched state flashing behind his eyes. 

“No! NO NO! There is NO way that I am going to HRNGG-”

Ivan fell to the floor twitching as two agents held stun batons to his ribs. 

Kate clicked her tongue, watching Ivan writhe on the floor. “He might make a good base. He handled training here surprisingly well. I’ll just need to call the boss and get permission first.”

LeAnn nodded, that hungry look in her eyes becoming ravenous as the agents let up and Ivan lay gasping on the floor. 

Ivan came to his senses as a soft ringing tone sounded from Kate’s phone, the silence stretching on as he tried to get his limbs to work for him and get him off the ground, to escape, to find Kolt, to anything. 

Someone picked up and Kate began. “Hello, it’s Handler Kate. You are aware of the incident, correct?”

Silence.

“Dr. LeAnn is requesting Ivan. She thinks she can give him Kolt’s powers and turn him into the weapon.”

Silence.

“Yes, sir. We have Kolt in custody. Dr. LeAnn’s professional opinion is that he will be useless for the project.”

“No,” Ivan said weakly, getting his arms underneath him, but someone put a heavy boot on his back and shoved him back down, making it hard to draw a full breath. 

“Yes, sir. Thank you. Would you like us to get rid of Kolt?”

“No, I might need him for extra DNA,” LeAnn said quickly. 

“Ah, nevermind. Dr. LeAnn said she still might need him.”

Silence.

“Perfect. Good evening, sir.”

She ended the call and smiled at LeAnn. “Well, he’s all yours.”

“Perfect,” she said with an excited though professional lilt to her tone. “You heard her boys. Get him ready for transport.”

Ivan scrambled at the floor, the plastic threads of the carpet scratching at his fingers as he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and then he knew no more.

Part 3

Taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

[im-a-king-baby]

hellooo i don't know if anyone has asked this before but if you had to pick five songs that you'd associate simme with what would you choose? I'd choose "art deco" by lana del rey, "midas" by skott, "you're somebody else" by flora cash, "my ordinary life" by the living tombstone and "youth" by daughter. i think the vibes and the lyrics just fit so well with his character. and all of these songs always make me cry and all I've ever done while reading ELYN is sob until i can't even breathe so I'd say they go quite well together :') also... hope you are staying healthy and taking care of yourself!💜💕

Thanks for your reccs, I will resist the urge to send them right back to you but they all fit so well! ('Setting fire to our insides for fun,' from Youth in particular hits hard, I had never heard this song before but I love it) I have so many Simme thoughts when I see pictures and music and all sorts and it's so wild and amazing that other people are out here also having feelings about him! That this story exists! Outside my head! So thank you so much for sharing!

I am still technically working on an ELYN playlist that an anon asked about, uh, months ago so I will try not to spend months overthinking my answer to this one and just go with my first instincts!

FIVE SIMME SONGS

King - Years & Years -- there are a few Y&Y songs that I used to get the vibe of Simme-in-concert, but this one also fits with the general trapped-ness plus we love a King motif right?

Don't wanna wait for you, don't wanna have to lose All that I've compromised to feel another high I've got to keep it down tonight And oh, I was a king under your control

Queen of Hollywood - the Corrs -- This is probably the song that is the furthest from what Simme would actually play but it's an old favourite so it gets a place.

Now her mother collects cut-outs, And the pictures make her smile But if she saw behind the curtains, It could only make her cry She's got hand prints on her body, Sad moonbeams in her eyes Not so innocent a child

Falling - Harry Styles -- I always associate this song with Simme in the moment after Wilhelm leaves the hotel room, but it also fits him more generally.

What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

No Pressure - Mahalia -- Someone on AO3 recced me this one and it's been on my ELYN playlist ever since.

Smile for the camera, always looking right at ya, no There's no time to be sad, There ain't ever space for that, no There is not a place for that here, But no pressure, no pressure, dear

Give me Love - Ed Sheeran -- I don't really have lyrics here, it's more about the pace and the build of it. The desperation of it, seeking something and never being satisfied.

Oh, give me love

+1 ELYN SONG

Everybody Loves You Now - Billy Joel -- listen to it. Picture Wilhelm staring at unanswered text messages while Simon's voice plays on the radio. Picture Simme in a dressing room hearing the crowds roaring his name while staring into his reflection in an empty bottle. You're welcome. <3

All the people want to know your name Soon there will be lines outside your door Feelings do not matter in your game Yeah, 'cause nothing's gonna touch you anymore

So your life is only living anyhow And everybody loves you now

[curator-on-ao3]

Playlists???? 👀👀👀👀

For Youthful Exuberance?

Also, do you have a Clancy playlist??? 👀

Ahhh, I’m so excited you asked, @emilie786! ❤️ Thank you!

Youthful Exuberance (Pikeuna, E), has three playlists for a total of three hours of music. (This fic lived in my bones.) Some highlights:

So This is Love (Cinderella), of course, for Chris and Una’s first kiss: “So this is love, mmm, So this is love, So this is what makes life divine … My heart has wings, mmm, And I can fly, I’ll touch every star in the sky”

San Francisco (Cascada) for Starfleet Academy vibes: “Poppin’ some bottles, champagne, red wine, And we both giddy up on the rooftop, And watch the city lights, Tell me what you’re waitin’ for, (We’re crossing the Golden Gate, Party at the Frisco Bay)” — I had already written the rooftop date when I found this song so I was very 👀👀😍 about that coincidence

Call You Mine (The Chainsmokers) for the cracks — and love — in Chris and Una’s early relationship: “Think about what you believe in now, Am I someone you cannot live without? ‘Cause I know I don’t want live without you, Yeah, Come on let’s turn this all around, Bring it all back to that bar downtown, When you wouldn’t let me walk out on you, Yeah” (again, I found the song after I wrote the part with the bar)

I’ll Follow (ROZES) for more early relationship: “Shoes by the door, And your coat in the closet hallway, You hung your keys, And I knew in that moment you’d stay, You built your bed in my heart and now that’s where you lay, And the sycamore by the river is where our children will play”

When Love Takes Over (David Fuetta featuring Kelly Rowland) for overall vibes: “It’s complicated, It always is, That’s just the way it goes, Feels like I’ve waited so long for this, I wonder if it shows, Head underwater, Now I can’t breathe, It never felt so good, ‘Cause I can feel it coming over me, I wouldn’t stop it if I could, When love takes over, yeah, You know you can’t deny, When love takes over, yeah, ‘Cause something’s here tonight”

Love Somebody (Maroon 5) for Chris worrying about Una when he’s on the Antares and she’s on the Martin Luther King Jr.: “I know we’re only halfway there, But you can take me all the way, you can take me all the way … I think about you every single day … I wanna feel like we’re never ever gonna stop”

What Do You Want from Me? (Cascada) for when Una takes her big risk with Chris on the Antares: “Just tell me, what do you want from me? This is love in the first degree … It’s not too late, now we’re standing face to face, And heaven is the only place, will you understand?”

Playground (Cascada) for service together and the, uh, end of the story: “Sirens ringing bright, They’re taking us to another high, And our hearts are driven wild, You and I both read the signs … Your heart is my playground.”

And Clancy! Oh my goodness, I also have three playlists for a total of three hours of music for The Autobiography of Kirsten Clancy (Gen, T). Again, some highlights:

Believe (Cher) for vibes and Clancy’s righteous anger toward Jean-Luc Picard for walking out on Starfleet when Starfleet needed him: “No matter how hard I try, You keep pushing me aside, And I can’t break through, There’s no talking to you.”

I Think We’re Alone Now (Tiffany) for meeting Matthew Clancy: “Running just as fast as we can, Holdin’ on to one another’s hand, Tryin’ to get away into the night, And then you put your arms around me, And we tumble to the ground, and then you say, I think we’re alone now”

Dancing in the Dark (Bruce Springsteen) for fighting in the Dominion War: “You can’t start a fire, You can’t start a fire without a spark, This gun’s for hire, Even if we’re just dancing in the dark”

Rhythm of the Night (DeBarge) for the holodeck parties Clancy took her kids to during the Dominion War: “When it feels like the world is on your shoulders, And all of the madness has got you going crazy, It’s time to get out, step out into the street, Where all of the action is right there at your feet, Well, I know a place where we can dance the whole night away, Underneath electric stars, Just come with me and we can shake your blues right away, You’ll be doing fine once the music starts, oh”

Take Me Home Tonight (Eddie Money) for Matthew Clancy’s pain after the Dominion War: “I get frightened in all this darkness, I get nightmares, I hate to sleep alone, I need some company, a guardian angel, To keep me warm when the cold winds blow”

4 Minutes (Madonna featuring Justin Timberlake) for heroism Clancy doesn’t remember in the Breen prison camp: “Time is waiting, We only got 4 minutes to save the world, No hesitating, We only got four minutes”

Power of Two (Indigo Girls) for old Kirsten and Matthew working at Starfleet Command and going home together at the end of the day: “So we’re okay, we’re fine, Baby, I’m here to stop your cryin’, Chase all the ghosts from your head, I’m stronger than the monster beneath your bed, Smarter than the tricks played on your heart, We’ll look at them together, then we’ll take ‘em apart, Adding up the total of a love that’s true, Multiply life by the power of two”

Thank you again for asking, @emilie786! ❤️ I tried to cull the lists so it wasn’t too much. 🙈

Send me a fic and I’ll tell you a song (or highlights from a playlist) from when the story was banging around in my brain.

[weirdcultstuff]

It’s like my skin has hardened around me now. If I focus on the bills, on my work, on lunch, on going for a walk, on watching a scary movie, on not thinking about it all, then I’m fine. I used to be hyper vigilant, couldn’t sit with my back to a door, couldn’t talk to men, had to wear this one specific hoodie and hat if I left the house. I felt strong joy often, and intense pain and shame and grief.

I’m not like that anymore. Now I’m a normal automaton. I feel good for a few hours at least, most days. Mornings are good usually, about ten am maybe? When I’m right in the thick of things at work. I’m having trouble sleeping again, I’ll wake up at midnight, then three am, then four thirty, then five. When my alarm goes off at six I’m not awake, it’s like I’m lazy and don’t want to get up but I also just don’t care that I want to stay in bed, so I don’t. I get up, get dressed, drink water, go to work.

I worry about normal things, and it is worry. I feel that anxious feeling in my chest when I think about bills, my career, fixing the car, going to the doctor. It’s like a micro dose of dread every few hours. I try not to think about it. And mostly I’m fine. I can think to myself, “my heart rate sped up, it’s probably the coffee. Just wait it out. Play a different podcast, take some breaths, it’ll pass.” And it does.

I get angry now, which is frickin weird. I have a short temper, not on the outside-I don’t act angry, I’m not mean to my coworkers or anything, but I feel anger in my head every few days when something happens that really slows me down or gets in my way, annoys me. My vision does that little skippy thing and I always want to roll my eyes at myself for being such a child about things.

And the rest of the time I’m fine. Normal. I’m not depressed. I eat my vegetables, I watch shows with my girlfriend, I go to work every single day except the weekends and on the weekends I rest and do chores around the house.

I worry about my parents now, they’re getting older. I can see it in their texts in the family chat. More health issues, more mishaps. My grandparents are getting too old, maybe I’ll never see them again? I teared up just typing that. Mostly I don’t think about them all, and that’s very intentional. I’ll sob cry if I do, and it won’t stop for a long time. It never resolves, I don’t feel better afterwards, I’ve done the therapy things and I’ve written it out and I’ve tried just crying until I wear out but those things don’t work. There’s no way to fix it, so I just don’t go there. I text them back about once a week, and that’s about it. Just send cropped photos of my life. Here’s some food I ate, here’s a picture of a tree, what’s the weather like there? (Please don’t die.)

Enough thinking about that.

Mostly I’m very normal now. It’s weird when I run into people who are Christian or one of my siblings says something super fundamentalist Christian online. It’s like, “oh yeah, people still believe that stuff. They actually believe it, it’s not just a story or a game. Weird.” And then I feel disconnected from them. I used to feel connected, like I understood where they were coming from and could relate to them even if I was somewhere else. Now I just feel somewhere else. I’m like, “that’s weird of you to praise god that you didn’t get more hurt than you just did. Also very weird to be talking seriously about having children before you’re even twenty. But okay. Couldn’t be me lol.” But like it was me once, I was like that. It just doesn’t feel like it anymore. If I go there in my mind, I probably won’t function anymore. And functioning is all there is, in the end. So I function.

I’m always functioning and it feels like each day is just a repeat. It’s fall though, time passes. Wild. Anyway, this whole post looks kind of bleak but I promise most of the time I don’t feel bleak. Most of the time I feel good, some of the time I feel anxious, every few days I get impatient over something which makes me feel angry, and occasionally I have a crying spell because I think too much about my family. That’s pretty much all that happens. And I’ve been doing a lot of listening to horror podcasts and not texting my friends back. So that’s fun.

[blatantlyright]

Strictly Business / pt 3

Part One - Part Two

Tw: Angst. Fluff. Kissing. Alcohol. Weed. Teasing. Slow burn.

You could taste the beer and weed on your tongue. Breathing was hard. “Yeah, I have some food. Go check out the kitchen while I dry these clothes,” you said. Your load from the washer was done, so you placed his damp clothes in the dryer with your clean ones. Your brain tried to wrap itself around that kiss. Why was he acting like it didn’t happen, or it wasn’t a big deal? It was a huge deal to you. It took guts (and some weed) to finally do that.

“I put a pizza in the oven. I’m exhausted. Will you hate me if I ask to crash on the couch for a couple hours? I just don’t want to go out in the rain right now. It looks even worse than it did when you picked me up. I completely understand if not. I just figured since we’re being brave tonight I’d ask.” Eddie grins down at you through his hair. “That’s fine,” you stutter. He nods, staring at your face, desperately searching for how you’re feeling.

The hall closet is stuffed full of blankets and quilts crafted by your grandmothers. They each spent hours preparing you for life on your own. You were hesitant to hand them off to Eddie, knowing his clumsy and careless tendencies. You opted for a quilt covered in different shades of blue clouds. It had a matching pillow, which you also sat out on the couch.

“Can we watch a movie while we wait for the pizza?”, Eddie asked, twiddling with his rings. His eyes were still hazy from the weed. “Of course,” you responded as you sat down in front of the TV to gaze through your VHS collection. The warmth of his legs surprised you as he crouched behind you. “How about I choose? You just go sit down and relax,” he hummed as he brushed some hairs from your face. Everything in you wanted to turn around and kiss him again. How was he acting like you hadn’t just crossed a new like in your… friendship?

As you folded into the couch, you realized Eddie had never put on that crop top. Was he trying to be half naked around you? Why were you so turned on by the sight of his happy trail? “Oh man! You have my favorite!” He slid the tape into the VCR and practically galloped over to plop down beside you on the couch. He had the smile of a kid, excited and nostalgic. “What is it, The Hobbit?”, you asked. Eddie shook his head, still beaming. You recognized it almost immediately: Pete’s Dragon.

“This is your favorite?”, you giggled. His lips formed a straight line, ego tarnished by your mocking. “Indeed,” he nodded. His eyes lit back up as the cartoon dragon shot across the screen. “This is the last movie I watched with my mom before she passed away,” he whispered with his eyes still locked on the screen. Your heart broke for him. The timer in the kitchen went off. The movie held Eddie in a trance, so you got up and pulled the pizza out of the oven. He had arranged the pepperonis into a smiley face. It warmed your chest.

Silence filled your apartment, save Eddie’s soft foot steps. “Sorry if it’s a little cheesy,” he elbowed you at the pun. “It’s cute,” you smiled. You got a plate for each of you, and Eddie grabbed you each a Mountain Dew from the fridge. You sat in the middle of the couch with your plate to your left. Eddie pressed play, then sat down between your legs, his wild hair brushing softly against your thighs. He put his can of pop on the floor and rested his plate on his legs, which were crossed.

“So why did you do it?”, Eddie asked with a mouth full of food. “Do what?”, you asked. This was it. Eddie was going to make fun of you for kissing him. Never in your wildest dreams could he ever not be weirded out by what you did. He brushed his full lips against your inner thigh. “You kissed me.” His eyes focused back on the TV as you clammed up. The two of you sat wordless throughout the rest of the film. The only sounds were the TV and the smack of your lips as you ate the pizza.

The clock on the wall said it was well past time to go to sleep. Eddie was still between your legs, seemingly half asleep, resting his face on your right knee. “So I’ll make sure I don’t hang around too long in the morning. I’m sorry about all this,” he mumbled against your skin, “but it was nice to hang out. Almost felt like old times. Incredibly awkward, but nice.” His hand grazed your calf. You hesitated as your nerve endings encouraged you to grind against the back of his head. Anything for some friction. “I can take you back to the van in the morning. We can stop and get gas first,” you say, fingers running through his hair.

You heard his breath hitch in his throat as your fingernails brushed against his scalp. He let out a soft growl, his eyes rolling back in his head. “You can’t keep doing that to me,” he breathed. You quickly removed your fingers from his crazy dark curls. He let out a deep sigh. “Unless you want me to fall asleep between your legs.” His cheeks grew rosy at the things that could be implied he meant.

Eddie stood, brushed himself off, and sat next to you on the couch. “Well, I hope you sleep well, and you can wake me up whenever you’re ready to go. Thank you, honestly, you saved me today.” He pressed his lips to your forehead, cupping your cheeks in his rough palms. You smiled, staring into his eyes. “No problem,” you whispered, “good night Eddie.”

Part Four

[thehattiefox]

Tonight, probably.

Trixie was awake. It wasn’t uncommon anymore, between the late nights after shows and dj gigs, but this night was different.

“The end of an era,” Brandon kept saying, and Trixie knew he was right. He talked to Katya countless times about it, how this tour was absolutely too much, how they’d never do anything like this again, how they both had some solo things they were excited to do, and were also excited to be spending some time at home.

And truly, Trixie had meant it. This tour was so fucking much. The effort, the schedule, the amount of people it took to put on one of these two-hour monsters.

But he was having a moment now, out of drag, in bed with the covers pulled up to his chin and light dancing through the curtains from the hotel parking lot.

He was going to miss Katya.

He hated himself with every movement it took to reach for his phone on the nightstand and pull up Katya’s name, pressing the call button and holding it to his ear.

It rang twice before Katya picked up, his voice low.

“What in the hell, Tracy?”

“Hey.”

“You never call me at 3am anymore.”

Trixie let out an amused sound. Anymore.

“Were you sleeping?”

“No. Tired as fuck, though. You see me dancing out there tonight?”

The cast and crew had taken over a local bar, closing the place down as they played an eclectic mix of music from the bar’s old jukebox. Katya, as always, spent most of his time on the dance floor, which always made Trixie smile.

“Mama, who didn’t. You were JoJo Siwa out there.”

“Is that the only dancer you can think of?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

Katya wheezed on the other end of the line, and Trixie heard him shuffling around.

“What’s up, mama?”

Trixie swallowed, annoyed with the fact that he needed to hear Katya’s voice after seeing him an hour ago. “I think it’s finally hitting me. The show being over.”

Katya hummed in agreement. “It’s wild, isn’t it?”

“And of course we still have all of our other stuff, but this was a whole year. One entire year of our lives that just ended.”

“Yikes,” Katya said. “I mean, sure, that’s one way to look at it. But that means another year is beginning.”

Trixie could hear the amusement in Katya’s voice, the lightheartedness he was trying to bring to the moment. Trixie couldn’t blame him. Katya was sentimental about a few things, but never about work. And that’s what this was, just another project ending.

“I guess I’m just going to miss you, Brian.”

Katya was quiet for a moment. “I am literally seeing you in two days—“

“I know, I just mean in this context.” Trixie felt his chest starting to hurt. “It’s fine, I know you don’t care that much about it ending—“

“Oh no no, hold on there,” Katya interrupted, his voice suddenly serious. “You don’t get to call me on my cellular telephone at three in the morning and tell me I don’t care. We are not doing that.”

Trixie swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, you need to know that as excited as I am to have some time at home and to relax and do other things, that doesn’t mean this wasn’t the best year of my fucking life.”

Trixie sucked in a breath. “Really?”

“You bet your ass, Mary. I am so tired and my hips are about ready to fall off my decrepit body but I have loved every single show we’ve done together. It’s been hilarious and stupid and fun. I’m going to miss it.”

Trixie felt a tear fall and quickly wiped it away in the darkness. “Me too.”

It was quiet for a minute, both of them breathing into the phone, trying to find the words.

Trixie cleared his throat. “Brian?”

“Yeah?”

Trixie took a deep breath, but his words still came out in a whisper. “Would you ever do this again? With me?”

“You mean tour?”

“Yeah.”

Trixie’s chest pounded, his heart heavy with sharing this vulnerability and the weight of a very fresh ending swirling around him.

“Trixie?”

Trixie sniffled. “Yeah?”

“I’d do pretty much anything with you.”

Trixie pulled the phone away from his ear, a deep, shuddering sob wracking his body. He took a moment, breathing deeply, the weight of what he was feeling starting to ease, slowly, as he took in Katya’s words.

He pulled the phone back to his ear. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m a mess.”

Katya chuckled, his voice gravelly, thick with exhaustion. “You’re ok, diva.”

“Two days, huh?”

“Two days. Back at it, money never sleeps, yadda yadda.”

“Will I see you tomorrow before your flight?”

“I’m getting up at 7am to work out if you’d like to join me.”

“Gross, ew, no thank you. I will meet you for breakfast, though.”

Katya laughed. “Alright. Go to sleep, mama. We can cry in the morning.”

Trixie rolled his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”