#i wanna say tommy was nine or ten

[arts-and-drafts]

Call Them Brothers (Hermit!Tommy AU)

(A little look into the early months of Mumbo and Tommy's friendship in this AU! This one is pretty angsty, mind the CWs :)c )

CW: Abandonment, violence mentions

-

Mumbo had no earthly idea why Tommy chose to hang around him.

As far as looks were to be considered, Mumbo was a human in a world of otherworldly creatures. He was well dressed and eloquent, and as entertaining as a white slice of bread. But still, this feral little kid that couldn't be more of his opposite decided to trail behind him like an imprinted chick, already talking as if he and Mumbo were thick as thieves despite the fact that they just met.

He was used to foul language, and that special kind of unhinged that Tommy exuberated with everyone he talked to was just another day with Bdubs, or Skizzleman, if Mumbo was off server. But for some reason, the kid took one look at him and decided that they were friends, even when the vibe couldn't be more different between the two of them.

It baffled Mumbo, but he wasn't one to object to very many things. Besides, the kid wasn't too bad to be around once you got used to him.

Tommy made him laugh, even if most of the time it was of incredulousness at whatever in the realms just came from the kid's mouth. He would constantly beg for Mumbo to teach him redstone, only to get bored and complain within the first minute of the man explaining the rudimentary knowledge of what a redstone signal was.

"I can't just beam the information into your brain!" Mumbo had said, to which Tommy looked up at him with such an outlandish face that the man couldn't help but stifle a laugh.

"Why not? You're a genius," Tommy had replied, so matter of fact that it seemed more like he was stating the obvious instead of offering a compliment.

Okay, maybe Mumbo had an inkling as to why he let the kid hang around him so much. (An ego boost was never a bad thing--could he really be blamed?)

However, even when Mumbo started to get used to Tommy's presence, it was the protectiveness that quickly followed from the boy that he couldn't wrap his head around.

When anyone from the Hobbit Society came for a visit, the hostility from Tommy escalated so much that neither Mumbo or the hermit visiting could tell if it was a bit or not. Even spending the day with Grian was overseen by jealous blue eyes glaring holes into the back of the hermit's head from behind a tree, the request from Mumbo that they be left alone barely taken into account.

It was when Tommy started the insults that Mumbo decided it was enough.

"Tom, listen." Mumbo said, pulling the kid aside after he scared off xB. Tommy looked up at him with wide eyes of rapture, something Mumbo had to try very hard to push past to get his point across.

"You've gotta chill out, mate." Mumbo said, allowing a small bit of his growing exasperation slip into his words. Tommy's eyebrows furrowed exaggeratedly.

"What d'you mean?" the boy asked, already adapting the defensive tone he took on whenever he was caught out. Mumbo sighed.

"I'm allowed to have friends, alright? I'm flattered you want to hang out so much, but--I still have a life, you know?" Mumbo said, nervously deciding to just get to the point after seeing Tommy's expression darken.

"You've been really mean, dude." Mumbo's voice softened to genuine truth. Tommy blinked.

"I get that that's just who you are sometimes, but you won't even let me have a day with my husband without him feeling like he's gonna get kicked out by security." Mumbo continued, taking advantage of the kid's silence.

"This server is about community. It's okay if you don't feel up to that yet, but please let me continue to." Mumbo said.

Tommy was quiet, something that always made Mumbo nervous just because of how little it happened. The man was prepared to soften his words with hurried fluff that made him seem less abrupt, but the kid spoke up before he even got a chance.

"...Okay. Sorry." Tommy mumbled, suddenly void of any energy that usually fueled his words. Mumbo stared.

Tommy never apologized, especially not that quickly.

"...You okay?" Mumbo asked lamely, honestly not knowing what else to say. He sensed something was very off with the kid, but he'd never been good at deciphering that sort of thing.

Tommy hunched his shoulders and scuffed the smoothstone floor with his sneaker, not looking at Mumbo anymore. Dread started to pool in the man's gut.

"Tommy, you didn't do anything wrong-" Mumbo tried to say, but the kid violently shook his head. "No, I didn't--"

He took a shuddering breath, like he did when he saw the various buttons around Mumbo's base for his contraptions, or he was caught off guard by a firework propelling a hermit to the sky.

Oh no.

"I'm not annoying, not really," Tommy pleaded, looking up at Mumbo with eyes that broke his heart.

"No, Tommy, that's nothing like what I was saying." Mumbo scrambled, reaching out, only to awkwardly close his fist and bring it back when Tommy tensed.

"You're not annoying. Who told you that?"

-

"You're such an annoying little shit!" Wilbur yelled, his voice so harsh and biting that Tommy couldn't tell if he was joking. The way he mercilessly noogied the boy's yellow curls made it even harder to tell.

"Get the fuck offa me!!" Tommy yelled right back, trying his best to struggle out of the headlock his pseudo-brother had him in. "PHIIIIIIL! WILBUR'S BEING A DICKHEAD!!"

"Stop being a dickhead, Wil." Came Phil's apathetic response from his rocking chair, the angel not even looking up from his book of runes to see Tommy's peril.

"He was being a dickhead first!" Wilbur objected hotly, unbothered by Tommy's flailing attempts to escape his restraining hold. "Tommy threw my music book in the pond!!"

"I threw it because you were being a prick!!" Tommy replied, indignation behind his words.

"Boys!" Phil was looking up now, his eyebrows knotted in annoyance. "Wilbur, let the kid go! You're better than that! Tommy, get his book back and both of you apologize!"

A moment of hesitant silence.

"...Yes, Dad." Wilbur relented bitterly, releasing Tommy. Tommy immediately jumped away and made a show of rubbing his neck and head, just to earn the glare from Wilbur at his antics. Tommy abandoned the act and raised his eyebrows smugly.

"Well? Apologize, Wilbur." Tommy ordered, crossing his arms with a smirk. Wilbur glowered. "Get my book first."

"I won't until you apologize."

"Dadza SAID you had to get my book before I have to apologize."

"I don't remember hearing that."

"Yes you godsdamn do!!"

"You can't tell me when l what I do and don't remember!"

"You little-"

Philza stood from his chair, and both boys blanched.

"Tommy, stop it." Phil said, his frustrated tone enough to make Tommy shrink into himself. "Get Wilbur's book, and then go home. I think you two are done for the day."

The note of finality to Phil's voice cut off any attempt to argue that Tommy would've tried. A bit of himself ached as soon as the mention of home was brought to attention. As much as Wilbur was being a bitch, Tommy still liked him and his family.

It masked the fact that Tommy had none of that, at least for a little while.

Tommy silently waded into the pond and fished around for Wilbur's book, getting thoroughly soaked up to his shoulders before he felt the leather brush against his fingers. Tommy pulled the book to the surface, and quickly realized the extent of his actions as soon as he looked at the precious object.

It was ruined.

The ink on the now soaked pages was so streaked that anything inside was incomprehensible, and the soggy paper was barely clinging to the spine. The carefully tended leather that Wilbur tried so hard to maintain was now soaked through, and Tommy knew it'd be completely fucked up when it dried.

Tommy slogged back up to the shore, pointedly not looking Wilbur in the eyes as the older of the two glared hot malice over crossed arms. He slowly held out the book, sagging and dripping, and flinched when Wilbur snatched it out of his hand.

Without another word, Wilbur stalked back to his cottage, startling Tommy into following. He expected Wilbur to yell at him, which would've absolutely called Phil back out, and then the both of them would be in so much trouble that only siblings could get into, and Tommy wouldn't have had to leave just yet.

But this silent treatment solidified the fact that Tommy would have to go back to his hole in the ground when Wilbur closed that door behind him, shutting Tommy out from a warm family that he so desperately wanted to be part of.

Tommy moved before he realized it, and caught the door with his shoe before it was slammed close. "Wil--I'm--I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to--"

"Didn't mean to WHAT?" Wilbur snapped, the venom in his words making Tommy's throat dry. "You're just a fucking pest, Tommy, an annoying little roach that should've died a long time ago but won't leave me alone! You fuck up everything!"

Tommy's foot was kicked out of the doorframe. He didn't hear the spruce door splinter under the force of Wilbur slamming it, or Phil's shout at the noise. He just heard Wilbur's words echoing in his head.

-

"Tommy?"

Mumbo saw the boy startle, and numbly touch his face where tears had started to fall. His eyes cleared, and he looked back up at Mumbo, now with a weariness that the hermit had never seen in his life.

"I'm--I'm sorry, Mumbo. It won't happen again."

Tommy turned on his heel and ran off before Mumbo could say anything else, leaving the hermit alone and concerned. For a brief moment he considered following the kid, but what would he do when he caught up? Just stand there and stutter again?

Gods, why did Tommy pick Mumbo out of everyone else? Why him? He barely knew how to read his own emotions, much less the emotions of a prickly teenager.

Mumbo pulled up his communicator and messaged Joe, hoping his ramblings were coherent enough to get the poet to his base. Joe would know what to do.

Maybe he could teach Mumbo too.

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part eighteen

767 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen

Steve isn’t sure what to do. He knows what he wants to do. He wants to stuff Eddie’s locker full with every thought he’s had in the past week and a half without an outlet. But would he be receptive to that?

By practice the next morning he’s decided that he’ll give it a try and then see if Eddie’s still wearing the ring.

He figures the boy isn’t ready to talk about it face-to-face yet, given he brought out the ring instead of simply talking to him. Then he had the gall to ask Steve if he was okay.

No. He’s really not.

Eddie you talk with your hands a lot it’s hypnotizing it was one of the first things i noticed about you at the beginning of the year i never knew what you were saying from so far away  but i felt like i was in on the conversation just from that and i never feel like that, so thank you p.s. i’ve missed talking to you well, not talking, but you know p.s.s. i could definitely say more but i don’t wanna bombard you  so we’ll save all that for later thank you for giving me another chance

Steve is nervous walking into the lunch room. For the first time since he switched, he takes his usual seat on the side of the table where Eddie is in his line of sight. 

Steve was worried that he would have changed his mind and taken the ring off, but there it is on his right hand. 

Steve actually engages in conversation with Tommy and Carol for the rest of lunch so Eddie doesn’t see him staring, even if he feels a little better about it now that Eddie knows who he is and is still wearing the ring. 

Out of the corner of his eye, though, he catches sight of Eddie talking animatedly to his friends, arms waving this way and that, perhaps a bit more than usual and Steve has to tamp down a smile. 

They don’t talk in class until the bell rings and Steve realizes Eddie didn’t say where they were meeting after class today. 

He must have forgotten all about it because he goes to stand up and Steve has to catch him by the wrist before he makes his escape. Eddie jerks back out of instinct and shoots him a questioning look. Steve busies himself with packing his bag to avoid eye contact. “Wanna meet at Benny’s? On me?” he asks tentatively.

Eddie bats his lashes. “Steve Harrington wants to buy little ol’ me a milkshake from Benny’s Burgers? Oh my,” he says breathily, fanning himself.

Despite him raising the pitch of his voice several octaves to sound more feminine, Steve’s face still burns. Oh god. 

Steve rolls his eyes and swings his backpack over his shoulder. “Is that a yes?”

Eddie nods, pulling a piece of his hair over his face and as cute as the whole blushing maiden act is, Steve has to resist reaching out to tuck the hair back in place so he can see his smile. 

He bites his lip and backs away. “See you there, Munson.”

“Yup, see you there, Harrington.”

— — — — 

They don’t talk much once they get going on their projects. Eddie, of course, attempts multiple times to catch sight of Steve’s portrait. 

He even goes as far as to sneak up on him on his way back from the bathroom, not thinking Steve would be anticipating the act. Steve had pulled a blank piece of paper out of his bag and placed it over his actual project. On the paper, he drew a stick figure with Eddie’s haircut and huge eyes. Remembering how much Eddie had seemed to like Steve’s more unsettling attempts at art, Steve made the eyes as realistic as he could manage while the rest of the thing looked like a child had drawn it in a hurry. 

Steve didn’t even know Eddie had come out of the bathroom until he heard laughing and wheezing coming from behind him. 

He didn’t turn around. He simply sipped his strawberry milkshake until Eddie fell into his seat once he’d calmed down. The boy pouted for all of two seconds before breaking out into a smile and commending Steve’s foresight. 

Once they pack up and Steve pays the bill, they make their way outside and he pulls out the prank drawing. 

“Here,” he says, holding it out to Eddie. 

“For me?” The smile he gets in return is beaming.

Steve’s rides that high well into the next day.

nineteen

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sorry if i missed anyone!!

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

before - part two

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you and joel go on your first date, and get to know each other a little better.

a/n: this story has taken over my BRAIN. thank you all for hyping it up, it’s literally falling out of me and I can’t wait to share more!! 🤍 (also moodboard pics are not meant to depict the reader exactly, only fic aesthetic!)

word count: 3.4k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI - this part is not explicit but other parts will be, some heavy petting, more fluff, more banter, joel miller deserves the world and I wanna give it to him

✨I no longer have a taglist - if you’d like to be notified of new works/chapters, follow @friskito-library and turn on notifications!✨

He’s ten minutes late.

There was a warning, at least. You’d planned for seven thirty, and he called at quarter past, a twinge of annoyance in his tone as he apologized, told you he was running late, apologized again. You brushed it off, told him to take his time, that there was no rush. He sounded genuinely upset, and it made your chest ache a little. “It’s okay, Joel,” you’d said, trying to reassure him. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

“M’sorry,” he grumbled into the phone, and you could almost see the nervous hand on the back of his neck. “Don’t want you to think m‘not lookin’ forward to this or nothin’. I am. Just for the record.”

You stifled your grin. “Zip it. See you soon, Miller.”

“See you soon,” he replied, and you both hung up a second later.

The rest of the week had felt like a year. You’d slept fitfully after your late-night call with Joel, and you nearly toppled over when he showed up at the store on Wednesday, just after nine, a cup of coffee with your name literally scrawled on it pushed across the counter to you.

“Think of it as an apology for keeping you up last night,” he drawled, giving you a half-smile.

“I thought you were making that up to me with dinner on Friday,” you replied, lifting a brow as you lifted the coffee to your lips.

“You tellin’ me you don’t want the coffee?” he asked, reaching his hand out. “Cuz I’ll take it right back if you don’t.”

“I didn’t say that,” you shot back, slapping his hand playfully. “Seven thirty?”

The half grin turned full. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

He hadn’t come into the store Thursday, instead leaving you a slightly rambling voicemail; your cell battery died and you didn’t realize until you were heading to bed.

Hey, it’s me. Just callin’ to see how your day was, sorry I didn’t stop by today. Job ran long and Tommy is…well, maybe I’ll tell you when I see you. Really lookin’ forward to tomorrow night. Sleep well. Bye.

Friday you actually had off, your sister taking the opening shift and your father waving you off when you offered to work the afternoon. “Almost seems like you’re at the store more than you’re home, honey. I got it, don’t worry.”

You left Joel an equally as rambling voicemail.

Hey you, it’s me. Just wanted to call, see how your day’s going. I won’t be at the store today, if you stop by, Dad gave me the day off, says I work too much or something. Whatever that means. Anyway…I’ll see you tonight. Can’t wait. Bye!

The doorbell rings at precisely 7:41, and you bolt for it, bare feet nearly slipping on the hardwood. You yank the door open a little harder than necessary, your eyes meet Joel’s, and your breath gets stuck in your throat. “Sorry I’m late,” he stumbles out, and you bite your lip as his eyes rake over you. “These are for you.” Your face goes hot as he steps through the door, presenting a bouquet of daisies that only look slightly squished. “You look…beautiful.” You whisper your thanks as you take the flowers from him, your head automatically tilting to the side when he leans down and presses a stubbly kiss to your cheek.

He looks impossibly handsome, in that rugged way of his. The t-shirt had been swapped for a nice flannel shirt, the sleeves still struggling against his biceps, the top two undone buttons giving you a generous view of his collar. He’s trimmed his beard a little, his hair messy in an artful sort of way that you’re not sure is on purpose or not, but still manages to work.

“This old thing?” you ask, lifting the bouquet to your nose as you turn and head for the kitchen, inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers. You look at him over your shoulder. “You want a drink or something, before we go?”

He hangs around the front door for a moment before toeing off his shoes — the same pair of work boots he seems to live in — and walking towards the kitchen to join you. “Nobody else home?”

“Nope,” you reply, popping the p as you find a vase in one of the many kitchen cabinets, walking over to the sink to fill it. “Dad’s at the store, my mother has her book club, and my sister went out with some friends.” You arrange the daisies as nicely as you can in the vase, beaming at him as you do. “These are great, Joel, you didn’t have to.”

“Felt bad about being late,” he says, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, the other stuffed in the front pocket of his jeans. He looks nervous. “I gotta admit, it’s a long time since I’ve been on a first date.”

You give him a flat stare. “This is a date?” His face drops and you can’t keep a straight face, instantly bursting into giggles. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

He just grins, red along his cheekbones, shaking his head at you. “You are somethin’ else, you know that?”

“And yet, you still want to take me to dinner,” you laugh, setting the vase in the middle of the kitchen table. “That is still the plan?” 

“Put your shoes on,” he commands, still shaking his head, “before I change my mind.” 

You brush past him as you head for the front door, giving him a cheesy grin, and his hand skims against the small of your back, sending a shock along your spine. You do as you’re told, slipping on your sandals and fishing your keys out of the dish by the door, letting him step through the door before you pull it shut and lock up. 

The pick-up is parked at the curb, and he opens the passenger’s side for you, offering his hand to help you up into the cab. “A gentleman,” you murmur, giving him a wink, and he shakes his head at you again.

He slides into the driver’s seat a moment later, slides the key into the ignition. You buckle your seatbelt, but pause when you realize he hasn’t started the truck, and is frozen in place, hands gripping the wheel, his expression almost grim.

“Joel?”

“I have a daughter,” he says, the words seeming to hang in the air between you. “Her name is Sarah, she’s eleven. Her mother isn’t in the picture, but I had to tell you cuz I…” He trails off, gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles go white before he releases it completely, dropping his hands into his lap. “I don’t want you to think I’m tryna hide anything from you.”

Your brow furrows, and you reach across, finding one of his hands, sliding your fingers through his. “I don’t think that, Joel.”

“S’why I was late,” he explains, and the twinge in his voice on the phone earlier makes sense. He stares down at your joined hands, rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “Tommy said he’d come stay with her while I was out, but he was late and she got it in her head that she didn’t need a babysitter. Ripped me a new one for it.”

You huff a little laugh. “Sounds like a handful.”

“She’s not,” he says quickly, still staring at your hands. “She’s a great kid. Smart as hell, funny.” He chuckles. “Stubborn.”

“I hope I get to meet her,” you say, squeezing his fingers, “someday.”

“Someday,” he repeats.

He stares at you a long moment, those dark eyes suddenly feeling unfathomably deep, and you bite your bottom lip. There’s not much space between you; it’d be all too easy to lean across the console, put your fingers under that scruffy chin and your lips on his.

Joel almost jumps, flinching you both out of each other’s eyes, a nervous smile tugging at his mouth. He drops your hand to start the engine, pulls on his seatbelt. You go to pull your arm back, but he catches your fingers again before you can, letting your linked hands rest on his thigh as he pulls away from the curb, his palm warm against your own.

+

Dinner is delicious, some little hole-in-the-wall Italian place you’ve never heard of, no doubt a result of your more recent move to Austin. The conversation comes easy, and Joel only lets go of your hand when it’s time to eat, the pair of you talking over glasses of red wine and candlelight. 

He talks about Sarah a lot, the so-called secret of his daughter not a secret anymore, and you listen intently. He raised her himself, from what you can tell, the details of her mother scant and said with a thin thread of bitterness. But the smile on his face as he talks about his daughter, it’s easy to see how proud he is of the person she’s grown into, and you hang off his every word.

He talks about Tommy, too. Mainly how much of a shithead he is, and you nearly spit out your wine. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good guy,” he amends, lifting a shoulder. “He’s just…he makes some bad decisions sometimes, y’know?” You nod. “I’ve had to bail him out more times than I can count.”

You nod. “Younger siblings are like that.”

“Your sister’s been to jail?” he asks bluntly, and you almost choke on your wine again.

“My sister? The apple of my parents’ eyes? Hah.” You set the glass down again. “No, but she likes to party. I’ve had to go pick her up more than once since I’ve been back, late nights, early mornings, whatever. Although, one night, if I hadn’t shown up when I did, she probably would have spent the night in the back of a cop car.” You plant your elbow on the table, push your cheek against your fist. “All I mean is, I’m sure your brother is appreciative.”

Joel scoffs, taking a healthy sip of his own wine. “Yeah, I know he is.” His brows lift for a moment. “Sure has a funny way of showing it sometimes.”

You let out a quiet laugh, crossing your ankles beneath the table, letting your foot knock against his shin. He’s sitting beside you, rather than across from you, and the closeness has made the air thick between you since you sat down. “Now, tell me something about yourself.”

“Like what?” he stutters out, brow creasing as he sets his glass back down.

“You’ve told me all about Sarah and Tommy and your job, but what about you?” 

The crease just deepens. “What d’you wanna know?”

You think for a moment, pursing your lips. “Your favourite book.”

He gives you a long look, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, shoulders up around his ears. His eyes seems to glitter in the low light of the restaurant, the candlelight dancing off his features. He pushes a hand through his hair, mussing it further, and the motion is so endearing you want to squeal. He parts his lips, the answer about to fall from his lips, and then he shakes his head, wrenching his eyes from yours. “Nah.”

“Tell me!” you insist, putting your chin in your hands and batting your lashes at him. “Please?”

Joel licks his bottom lip, and then finally: “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

A smile spreads across your face. “I love that book.”

He laughs. “Do you? Been a while since I read it, I just remember really liking it.” His shoulders unravel a bit, relaxing into his seat, and he reaches for your hand again, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. “Tell me yours.”

It goes back and forth like that for hours. Favourite books, movies, songs, the first record you ever bought, the first drink you ever had. First jobs, first cars, on and on and on. Stories about your families, good and bad, a few from Joel that line your eyes with tears, a few from you that have him gaping at you like a fish.

You talk your way through dessert — a slice of the best chocolate cake you’ve ever tasted split between the two of you — and when the waiter brings the cheque, you don’t miss the way Joel’s throat bobs at the price. He goes quieter, his face a little sullen, and the look only deepens when his card is declined. The waiter tries it again, trying to blame it on a picky machine, but the same thing happens.

“Just give us a sec?” you ask the waiter, and he gives you a little smile before disappearing. Joel grunts in frustration. “It’s okay, I got it.”

He tries to wave you off when you reach for your wallet, muttering under his breath about cash in his car, but his protests stop when you plant a hand on his thigh beneath the table, leaning across the small space between you to kiss his cheek. He freezes for a moment, but then melts again, his eyes slipping shut when you press two fingers beneath his chin, his pulse a riot against your fingertips.

“I got it.”

The drive home is mostly quiet, your mind a little buzzed — partially from the wine (you’d downed the rest of your glass and Joel’s once the bill had been paid, refusing to let good wine go to waste) and partially from how good he’d smelled when you kissed his cheek. Earthy and rugged, but something softer underneath, like honey and lemon, warm and comforting, the kind of scent you want to wrap yourself in. In the cab of his truck again, his hand finds yours, but this time you pull his arm across to you, wrapping both your arms around it, sighing heavily when his hand wraps around your thigh, the fabric of your dress the only thing between him and bare skin.

He parks at the curb again, gets out first and runs around the front of the truck to your side, opening the door and offering his hand again. His palm rests against the small of your back as he walks you towards the porch. “I’m sorry, again, about the bill and everything,” he mumbles.

You nudge your shoulder against his chest. “You apologize too much, Joel Miller. I had a great time.”

The corner of his mouth quirks. “Me too.”

There’s an awkward pause at the door. The house is dark; it’s late now, your conversation having carried nearly until the restaurant closed, and your parents are no doubt asleep inside, your sister probably still out. You half-wonder if you’ll get some drunken phone call from her later.

Joel takes his hand off you only to stuff both in his pockets, swaying back and forth on his feet as you fish your keys out of your purse. “I got a job Monday afternoon,” he tells you, and you lift a brow. “I’ll stop by in the morning?”

You give him a little grin. “I’ll be there.”

He’s staring at your mouth. Full-out, no subtleties, and a rush sweeps through you when he leans forward, one hand reaching out to cover your hip. Taking a deep breath, his scent filling your nose, everything in you deflates slightly when he kisses your cheek instead of your mouth, and before you can protest, he’s turning and heading back down the driveway.

You watch him leave, tucking your thumb between your teeth. The broad shoulders, the way his hips move as he walks. You know for a fact you didn’t read things wrong, but then why—

He stops, halfway between the porch and his truck. His hands are curled into fists at his sides, and he turns slowly, eyes meeting yours across the dark driveway. Before you can get a word out, he’s sprinting back up to the porch, your keys and purse falling to the concrete steps as he yanks you into his arms and kisses you.

One arm tight around your waist, the other delving into your hair as he presses his lips to yours. He tastes like chocolate, the sweetness heavy on his tongue, and the feeling of his mouth makes stars spark behind your eyes. You wrap both arms around his shoulders, squeezing him against you, your feet kicking up in the air as he lifts you off them. There’s a bit of teeth, a bit of tongue, and you can’t help the little noise that tumbles out of you. Joel kisses it right out of your mouth.

You’re both breathless as he releases you, slowly letting you back down to your feet, his arms still around you. You can feel the twitch in his biceps as he puts you down, and your palms rest flat on his shoulders, mouth dragging up from your lips to your cheek to your forehead as you return to the ground.

“I…” you mumble, but nothing else follows. You’re speechless.

He grins. “Been wanting to do that since I first saw you.”

“Tonight?” you ask, finding your voice. “Or at the store?”

“The store,” he replies, tilting his head to the side and pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Then again when I saw you in the bathroom.” Another kiss. “And again when you opened the door earlier.” He ducks his head now, drags his mouth over yours, this kiss fleeting and making you ache for more. “Feels like every time I see you is the first time.”

You dig your fingers into his shoulders, chasing his lips, taking his bottom one between your own. “You’re a romantic, Joel Miller.”

“Just for you,” he replies, and your chest erupts with warmth, linking your hands around his neck as he kisses you again.

+

After your first date, Joel becomes a fixture at the hardware store.

He learns your schedule, meshes it with his own, and his visits become a daily occurrence. He pops in at a different time every day, but you don’t care, grinning like the devil when his truck pulls up outside. It’s usually between jobs, or on his way to one. Usually, he actually needs some sort of supplies, but more often than not, he hunts you down in the store, dragging you to an empty corner or aisle and kissing the breath from your lungs.

You take your breaks when he shows up most days, dragging him out of the store and to the coffee shop across the way, filling him with caffeine and some kind of pastry between your stolen kisses. He always grumbles at you when you pay for his coffee, but you’re quick to remind him that he has a kid to feed, you don’t.

Nearly two weeks after your first date, he leads you down the alley beside the hardware store, a hungry look in his eye that has you aching. Your back hits the bricks, and he follows, his body pressed between your legs, arms wrapped around your middle, yours around his broad shoulders. He kisses his way from your mouth down to your throat, following the line of your jaw and leaving tiny nips as he goes.

“Come over tonight,” he murmurs, and you suck down a breath as his hips slot against yours. You’re not immune to the press of his body, the friction between you making you want more. “I’ll ask the neighbours to watch Sarah. Make you dinner, watch a movie.”

“Dinner and a movie?” you quip, tilting your head back as he fits his face into your neck again. You tangle your fingers in his hair. “Pretty classic second date there, Miller.”

He grunts into your skin, pressing your further into the bricks. You can feel the bulge between his legs, the press of denim against the soft cotton of your shorts. Your knee lifts, thigh dragging up the outside of his. “I can take you out instead,” he says into your throat. “Tommy owes me some cash, I can—”

“Hush,” you murmur, tugging lightly on his hair until his head lifts, those dark eyes meeting yours, pupils blown wide as dinner plates. “Your place sounds perfect. We don’t have to go anywhere.” You lean forward, brush a soft kiss across his mouth. “Just as long as I’m with you. Hell, we could eat cereal in our underwear for all I care.”

His brow lifts. “In our underwear, huh?”

You shrug, grinning. “Well, you’ve already seen me mostly naked,” you quip, “underwear seems like the next logical step.”

“A towel is not mostly naked,” he tells you, kissing you again, “just for the record.” He squeezes your hip, pulls back slightly as you lower your leg, your knees shaking beneath you. “But I’d like to. See you naked, that is.”

You stifle your giggle, heat pooling between your legs despite it all. “Play your cards right, and maybe you will.”

PREV | NEXT

[theeoriginals]

CHAPTER TWO:

ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD

“where you lead me,” i said. “i’ll follow.” he laughed. “baby. baby. baby. i love you. and i’m going to build us a table and a whole lot of folks going to be eating off it for a long, long time to come.” - james baldwin, if beale street could talk

summary: the millers ring in the new year, and then celebrate sarah's birthday. joel decides he wants to settle down with blue.

warnings: the last chapter of just fluff lmao, enjoy

baby blue series masterlist

DECEMBER 31, 2002 / JANUARY 1, 2003

“Five minutes!” Sarah’s gleeful call echoed through the house, and the three adults chuckled at her excitement. 

Joel lifts his beer up, drinking the last bits of it before it gets too warm for him to enjoy. His arm tightens where it’s wrapped around Blue’s waist and she lets him pull her impossibly closer, a laugh in her voice as she and Tommy bicker back and forth. 

“Oh, come on, Miss Blue, you have to start the new year off with a kiss for good luck!” 

“And you think my good luck will come from you?” She questions incredulously, wrinkles crinkling in her face from the wide spread of her grin. “How many girls do you use that line on, huh?” 

Tommy waved a hand, smirking at the eye roll he earns from his brother. “Only you, Miss Blue, you’re the apple of my eye, the fire in my–”

“Alright now, Shakespeare,” Joel cuts in, giving his brother a faux-stern look that makes Sarah giggle. “She’ll be gettin’ a good luck kiss from someone who hasn’t spread his luck around the whole city of Austin.” 

Tommy’s jaw drops and Blue laughs loudly, the sound bouncing around the walls of the home that’s warm with the love they all have for each other. 

“Two minutes, guys,” Sarah reminds them, wiggling her way in between her father and Blue. They move easily enough, giving her the space she needs to fit amongst them. “My teacher says that a New Years kiss means you’ll find love that year,” 

“Your teacher is right, babydoll,” Blue lays a hand on Sarah’s head, tilting her head back so she’s looking up at them. “But even if you don’t get a kiss, you’ll still have plenty of lovin’ to go around.” 

Sarah smiles, but her attention is quickly torn away by the countdown beginning on the TV screen. “Look, look!” 

“We’re lookin’, baby,” Joel lays his free hand on her shoulder, sharing a smile with Blue as the timer ticked down, and the giant crowd gathered in New York on the TV began cheering as the ball dropped with each passing second.

“Ten, nine, eight,” 

“I’m saying it now, y’all, 2003 is going to be the year of the Millers. We’re kickin’ ass and takin’ names,” Blue raises a fist, earning a supportive cheer from Tommy and Sarah.

“Five, four, three, two– Happy New Year!” The four people called out over the raucous cheer from the television, and Joel leaned over Sarah’s frame to kiss Blue, the two of them smiling into it. 

Pulling apart, they shared a look before they leaned down and started kissing Sarah’s face all over, making the girl break into uncontrollable giggles. 

“Stop it, stop it!” 

Joel looks at his daughter’s flushed face, seeing her preen under the affection. “That should be enough love and luck to last you ten years, don’t you think, Blue?”

“At least ten, I think.” The woman wrapped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders and the teenager rested against her side. “She’ll be takin’ over the world before we know it.” 

“I don’t wanna take over the world,” Sarah shakes her head, scrunching her face up slightly. 

“Oh, really?” Tommy raises a brow at his niece. “Why not?” 

The girl shrugs and looks from her uncle to her dad, to Blue. “I’d rather just stay here with you guys.” 

Joel sighs, lifting a hand to cup his daughter’s cheek fondly. “You can do whatever you want, baby. You got all the time in the world.”

The night wound down shortly after the clock struck twelve, and Tommy ended up on the couch with his feet hanging over the end of it while Joel cleaned up as quietly as possible. Blue took it upon herself to help Sarah into bed, tucking the girl in as she faded into a sweet sleep. 

Leaning over the girl, she pressed a kiss to her forehead, smiling when Sarah leaned into the touch. “Goodnight, babydoll. Sleep tight, and don’t let the bedbugs bite.” 

“Blue?” Sarah mumbles, sleepy eyes looking up at her in question. “Are you gonna be my mom now that you’re moving in with us?” 

The woman stills, looking at the open bedroom door and suddenly wishing Joel were there to handle this delicate question. Clearing her throat, Blue smiled softly. “You already have a mama, Sarah.” 

Sarah shakes her head slightly, brows furrowing. “Yeah, but she left my dad. I don’t even remember her, and dad never talks about her, but Uncle Tommy says she wasn’t right for dad, not like you are. So, I want you to be my mom.”  

“Oh, babydoll,” Letting out a somewhat shaky sigh, Blue smiles. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, alright? As long as it’s okay with you and your daddy, I’ll be anything you want me to, even your mama.”

“Dad loves you,” She says, matter-of-factly. “And so do I. Do you love us?” 

“‘Course I do, Sarah. Both of you– so much. I think I’m gonna love you for a long, long time. Long as y’all let me, that is.” 

Sarah smiles then, sleepy and content as Blue smooths her blankets out again and switches on the small night light on her nightstand. “Night, Blue.” 

“Night, Sarah. Sweet dreams.” 

─────

JULY 20, 2003

“The birthday girl gets what the birthday girl wants, and your birthday girl wants pancakes,” Blue looked at a tired-looking Joel, quirking a brow when he rubbed his hands over his face, the early hour on a Sunday morning making him wish he was back in bed with Blue, still asleep. “So get up and go to the store before she wakes up.” 

“The store?” He echoes incredulously. “I don’t even like pancakes, baby, I’m not goin’ to the store at 7am on a Sunday!” 

Blue sets her hand on her hip, giving him a narrow-eyed once over. “You better hope we got all the shit to make pancakes, otherwise you’re explainin’ to my babydoll why she doesn’t have pancakes on her fourteenth birthday.” 

Joel groaned softly, smashing his face back into his pillow as Blue turned on her heel and walked out of the room, heading for the kitchen. He gets up slowly, ignoring the persistent creak of his bones and aches in his muscles as he makes his way for the kitchen, bypassing Sarah’s bedroom door that was still shut, only reaffirming the fact that Blue was up far too early. 

“Blue, what are you doin’?” 

She looks at him over her shoulder, gesturing to the small mess she’s managed to make in the five minutes it took him to get out of bed. “I’m makin’ buttermilk pancakes, what’s it look like?” 

“It looks like there was a tornado in my kitchen,” 

“Your kitchen,” She scoffs as he comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and dropping his head into the slope of her neck, still holding onto the last remnants of sleep despite knowing there’s no way he’s making it back to bed. “The other night you said it was my kitchen, and it had to be clean in order for me to use it.” 

“Yeah, but that was just so Sarah would do her chores.” 

Blue makes a noise of amusement as she slowly mixes in the concoction of dry ingredients. “Get me the vanilla extract– and the cinnamon, please. Since it’s your kitchen, Master Chef. And keep your hands to yourself, you can’t scar your daughter on her birthday.”

“Oh, Lord,” Joel groans, stoutly not moving from his place draped around Blue. “She’s seen worse. Heard worse from Tommy,” 

“I can’t believe you just used your brother as an excuse to grope me in the kitchen,” 

“What are you guys doing?” 

Blue and Joel both startle, Joel stepping back from Blue as they snap around to face Sarah standing in the entryway to the kitchen with a sleepy frown on her face. 

Clearing her throat, Blue points a finger at him accusingly. “Your dad wouldn’t go to the store to get pancake mix, so I’m making ‘em homemade for you.” 

“I can’t believe you just threw me under the bus like that–” 

“Do we have chocolate chips?” Sarah grins excitedly, cutting her dad off as she bounds towards them, exhaustion suddenly nowhere to be found. “I want chocolate chips, and whipped cream!” 

Joel grunts as Sarah throws herself against him, hugging his waist tightly, but he quickly recovers and squeezes her as tight as he can without hurting her. “It just might be your lucky day, because we have chocolate chips and whipped cream.” 

Blue shares a secret look with Joel, smiling at the girl’s excitement. “And you know, I think there might be a present for you in the livin' room, but you’ll have to go check.” 

“A present? Is it a car?!” 

“A car?” Joel echoes incredulously as Sarah pulls back, meeting his look of shock expectantly. “You’re fourteen, not twenty!” 

“I’m getting a car before I turn twenty, Dad,” 

“Not with that attitude.” 

“Blue!” Sarah whines, turning to look at the woman who’s hiding a smile behind her hand. “Tell him that I’m getting a car before I turn twenty.” 

Blue shakes her head, holding her hands up in surrender. “I am not getting in the middle of this. All I can tell you is that a car definitely does not fit in our living room, so you might be disappointed.” 

Sarah feigns an eye roll and Joel pushes her back, pointing a finger in the direction of the living room. “Go get your present while Blue finishes these pancakes for you,” 

The teenager does as told, scurrying off to the living room before she comes back with the gift bag in tow. “Can I open it now?” 

Joel nods, and Sarah pulls the tissue paper out of the bag, her smile growing as she pulls out a folded shirt, the shark-tooth necklace tucked into it, and a set of earrings. 

“Earrings?” She frowns, looking at her dad. “My ears aren’t pierced.” 

He crosses his arms over his chest, heaving a sigh as he looks between his daughter and Blue. “Blue and I have talked about it–”

“More like I had to bribe you,” 

“We talked about it,” He huffs, earning a cheeky wink from the woman. “And if you still want to, she’s gonna take you to get your ears pierced today.” 

Sarah’s eyes widen and she grins, looking at her dad. “For real? You’re gonna let me pierce my ears?” 

“If you want to,” 

“If I want to, he says,” Sarah mocks. “Like I haven’t asked you every day since I was twelve!” 

“Well, I finally got him on board,” Blue leans against the counter, looking at Sarah. “So we’re goin’ out for lunch, and then we’re goin’ to get ‘em done, and when we get home we’ll have dinner and cake, and you can have the rest of your presents.” 

Sarah launches herself at the two adults, wrapping her arms around them to the best of her ability, making them both chuckle. “This is the best birthday ever,” 

“Just wait for your sixteenth when you actually get that car you’re talkin’ about,” 

“Alright, that’s enough now,” 

“Dad!” 

───── 

AUGUST 15, 2003

"Dad,"

Joel ignores the whispered call from his daughter, his nervous hand turning the lit candle ever so slightly in the middle of the table.

"Dad!"

Joel whips around, looking at Sarah with wide eyes. "What?!"

"She just pulled in the driveway."

"Shit," He curses, backing away from the carefully set table for three. It's the nicest the Miller kitchen table has ever looked, and he applauds Sarah for her help. The single red rose sitting in a cup-turned-vase beside the candle, against the black tablecloth she'd pulled from deep in their linen closet looked as romantic as Joel Miller ever could be. "Are we ready? I don't think we're ready,"

"Dad," Sarah lays a hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring look. "You guys are practically already married, it's gonna be fine,"

He groans, forcing himself to calm. "You're right. She has no reason to say no."

"Exactly," Sarah smiles smugly as the sound of the front door opening alerts them both.

"Fret no longer, Miller family, your favorite person is home!"

Joel smiles, warmth flooding his face as he looks down at his daughter, seeing her matching grin. In unison, they call out to her. "Kitchen!"

Her footsteps come around the corner into the kitchen, and Joel finds himself floored at the sight of her smile, meeting her in the middle for a kiss that Sarah, for once, does not make fun of him for. "Hey, Blue,"

"Hi, baby," She leans in, giving him one, two more kisses before she parts from him and moves to drop a kiss onto Sarah's forehead in greeting. "I got some wine like you asked, though I'm curious as to why we're havin’ wine and not beer."

Joel huffs, briefly panicking as he shrugs his shoulders. "We're having a nice dinner, figured wine would go better," He gestures to the done-up table and her eyes fall to it, widening in surprise before a look of pure adoration floods her face.

"Oh, wow," The words are breathed out in awe, and Joel's reminded as to why exactly he wanted to do this in the first place. Because she's always looked at him and Sarah and the things they do as the best. From nosebleed seats at a football game, to simple, homemade dinners with a rose and a candle on the table, she acts like it's no less than perfection. It makes him feel giddy like a kid again.

"What's this for, huh? Did Sarah get honor roll again?"

"No," Joel cuts in, making Sarah huff as she goes to sit down in front of her plate of spaghetti. "Just wanted to have dinner with the three of us."

"Well, I love it," She grins at him before joining Sarah at the table, setting the bottle of wine in between their empty glasses. "And I am starving, so let's eat,"

Joel takes his seat with a smile, heart racing as he and Sarah share a secretive smile across the table.

"So, how was work?"

"It was alright," She waved her hand vaguely, reaching for her glass of wine as she, Sarah, and Joel talked amongst their meal. "Mr. Carden came into the center again asking about you, telling me you've been ignoring his calls."

Joel looks sheepish, but he feigns innocence as he shoves another bite of spaghetti in his mouth, manners be damned. Around the mouthful of food, he says, "I haven't gotten any calls,"

It comes out muffled, but she and Sarah both hear it, and they share mutual looks of exasperation before laughing at Joel's poor attempt at innocence.

"Joel Miller, are you ignoring that sweet old man?"

He swallows the bite of pasta, holding his hands up defensively. "I'm busy! I've been working!"

Blue shakes her head, still smiling fondly. "You just want me to be the one that has to make excuses for you,"

"Yeah, because you're so good at it, Blue,"

"I'm good at lying to people?!"

"On my behalf," He corrects, grinning crookedly as Sarah giggles uncontrollably beside them. "And I love you for it."

She points an accusing finger at him, pursing her lips to hide her growing smile. "You're supposed to be a gentleman, Joel,"

"And I am," Joel shrugs, lifting his wine glass to his lips. "But I only have to be a gentleman to you two. That's all that matters."

"You only have to be nice to me and Blue? What about Uncle Tommy?"

Joel heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes exasperatedly at the mention of his brother. "Uncle Tommy does not need me to be a gentleman, because he's an idiot."

Blue leaned over, whispering conspiratorially in Sarah's ear. "But we love him anyways,"

Sarah nodded, watching her dad shift nervously across the table. Eyes widening, she clears her throat pointedly, looking at Blue. "Dad has something he wants to ask you,"

"Sarah!"

The woman looked between them suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. "Does he now?" Turning in her seat to look at Joel, she raises a brow. "What is it you need to ask me?"

Shooting a glare at his daughter, he let out a somewhat shaky breath. "Well, uh, you– you know that I love you, right, Blue?"

"I do know that," She hums, smiling softly despite her growing nerves. "You told me about two minutes ago."

"Yeah," He nods, wiping a hand over his mouth. "And you know– you know that Sarah loves you, too,"

Sarah nods furiously, smile playing at her lips.

"Joel, is everything alright?"

He mutters a curse, quickly pushing his chair away from the table and getting down on one knee.

"Oh, shit,"

Sarah nudges her in the arm even as tears well up in her eyes. "Language,"

"Sorry," Blue distantly mutters, her eyes bubbling with tears the longer she looks at Joel. “Joel,” 

“Just– give me a minute, alright? I, uh, I’m not the best with words, but I got some things I wanna say to you,” 

She nods silently, pressing a hand over her mouth to hold back the sob that wants to break free from her lips. 

“Every day I wake up beside you, and I think about how lucky I am that Sarah wanted to go across the street and talk to our pretty new neighbor. Without her, I wouldn’t– none of this would have happened, and I wouldn’t have the two most important girls in my life. You love me and Sarah far better than I ever could ask for, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for it, baby. I,” 

He stops, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I love you, Blue. I love you, and my– our daughter loves you, so will you do us both the honor of marrying me, and sticking around for a while?”

Blue laughs wetly, wiping her cheeks with a shaky hand. “Just a while?” 

“Forever is preferred,” He smiles softly. 

“Forever, then.” She nods, laying her hand over his trembling one holding the diamond ring up for her to see.

“Is that a yes?” 

“Of course it’s a yes, baby,” She laughs, practically launching herself at him and tackling him to the floor in a hug. “I’ll marry you a thousand times, if you want me to.” 

Sarah giggles, abandoning the table to join them on the floor. Blue and Joel move, easily letting her wiggle in between them, and they all share teary-eyed looks as Joel grabs Blue’s hand and slides the simple engagement ring onto her finger. 

She wiggles it against the gleam of the light before dropping her hand to her chest, clutching it tightly like she’ll lose it if she doesn’t. 

“Hey,” Sarah hums, garnering both adults’ attention. “If someone gets you a dog as a wedding present, can we keep it?”

Blue laughed, shaking her head at Sarah. “Who on earth is going to give us a dog as a wedding present, babydoll?” 

“Uncle Tommy if I ask him to,” She says it fast, and it takes a moment for her words to settle in before Joel and Blue burst into laughter, Sarah quickly joining them in their hysteria. 

Blue lays on the kitchen floor, happier than ever, wondering how moving into a little old house on a random street in Austin, Texas, had ended up being the best thing to ever happen to her. 

[bingbongsupremacy]

Little Intruder

localsimp-queen

Yoooooooooo, I have a request for you, I did my research to see if it was okay and if they are comfortable with it, and so I was if you could a Tommyinit X toddler reader, where Tommy left his room because he had to do something really quick leaving, Phil, willbur and techno to entertain his viewers ( They were playing together or whatever you want them to be doing) and little 4 your old reader comes in and some how menages to but the head set on and stars being adorable.

A/N: I know this probably isn't my best story. I'm sorry. I had a really hard time writing this one. I couldn't figure out how to start it. Hope it isn't too bad!

Pairing: Tommy x Toddler reader

Type of Story: Family

Warnings: Nothing I can think of

Summary: Tommy walks out and you wander in and entertain the stream.

*Not Proof Read*

*****

" How long does it take to get a drink? " Technoblade mutters while stealing Tommy's wheat. It's been about ten minutes since the teen disappeared to grab a drink and the others have been waiting to head to the nether.

" Doo do do doo. " Wilbur hums happily while placing a third layer of blocks around Tommy's avatar.

" What are you doing? " Philza laughs while looking at Tommy's makeshift prison.

" That's for taking my diamonds. " Wilbur answers happily. " The next layer's going to be obsidian. Then I'm thinking some lava. "

" Wilbur. " Philza shakes his head with a smile.

A soft giggle fills the room, confusing the men streaming.

A small child pokes their head into the room before pushing open the door fully. Y/N waddles into the room, carrying a stuffed creeper under their arm.

" What the hell is that? " Wilbur asks in surprise.

" A cyclops. No a child, obviously. " Techno says while returning to his previous tasks.

" Probably Tommy's sibling or something. " Philza points out.

" Makes sense. "

Y/N wanders towards the streaming set up before climbing onto Tommy's chair. They reach towards a large headset, mimicking actions they'd seen their older brother do before by putting them on.

Y/N stares into the dark screen in front of them, leaning their tiny body closer. Music softly fills their ears.

" Creeper. OoOo. " Wilbur starts humming, the creeper plushy suddenly reminding him of the song.

Y/N's eyes widen in surprise at the voice that comes through the headset. " Whoa. Hi! " They shout happily while waving quickly.

They look around, attempting to find the source of the voice.

" Aw hi! " Philza greets in return.

Y/N beams widely. " Dis is Bee Bo! " The child shows off their creepy stuffy. " I love him. Tom-Tommy gave it me! " Y/N snuggles against their stuffy, earning an 'aw' from Wilbur and a laugh from Philza.

" The kid has good taste. " Techno approves of the toy choice.

Y/N giggles and starts spinning around in Tommy's chair. " Guess what! "

" What? " Wilbur smiles. The kid was very adorable.

" I can count to ten! "

" Oo that's cool. " Philza chuckles.

" Yeah! Wanna hear? " Y/N doesn't wait for a reply. " One, two, tree, four, seven, six, eight, nine, ten! "

No having the heart to break it to the kid they got some of it wrong, Philz just compliments them. " Good job kiddo! That's amazing. You're so smart. "

" Thank you! I like the movie Frozen. I wanna be Elsa for Halloween. I like her-her ice powers! " Y/N goes on for a little rant about Frozen and Elsa, sending the Chat into a cuteness overload. " Olaf is my mummy's favorite character. "

" He's pretty cool. " Wilbur agrees. " So is Elsa. "

" Elsa's awesome! "

" HEY! " A loud voice booms. " What are you doing here? " Tommy's eyebrows narrow slightly as he hurries back into the room.

" I'm talking to the people in your computer! I showed them-I showed them Bee Bo and I counted for them! " Y/N states proudly while smiling up at Tommy.

Tommy sighs slightly. " You're supposed to be taking a nap right now. "

" I don't wanna. 'M not tired. " Y/N frowns.

Tommy shakes his head while smiling slightly. " I'll take those. " Tommy snatches the headphones gently from Y/N's head. " I'm back boys! Sorry Mum left and she wanted me to put away some things real quick. I've got to go put Y/N down for a nap. "

" NO! No nap! " Y/N shakes her head. " I wanna stay with you. "

Deciding not to argue with the stubborn toddler, Tommy picks up his younger sibling and places them on his lap. " Fine I guess you can stay. But you have to try to go to sleep. "

Y/N rolls their eyes and starts playing with Bee Bo.

Tommy holds back his anger when he discovers how he's been buried alive by Wilbur, for Y/N's sake. His mother would kill him if he taught Y/N another swear word.

" Wilbur! " Tommy hisses. " You bi-brat! Ahh! "

" HAHAHAHAHA! " Wilbur cackles. " Have fun with that! Where's your enchanted armor again, Tommy? Your basement, right? I've been needing some new armor..."

" Don't you dare! "

" Tommy shh. Y/N fell asleep. " Philza alerts Tommy.

Apparently Y/N really had been sleepy.

Y/N cuddles into Tommy more, snuggling Bee Bo with one arm and sucking on the thumb on their other hand, a bad habit their parents had been trying to break Y/N out of.

" I better go guys. I gotta put Y/N down. " Tommy says quieter than he usually talks.

A collective of 'byes' are said from the discord call and Tommy ends the stream.

Tommy carefully shifts Y/N over in his arms so he can pick them up better. He walks down the hallway towards Y/N's room where he gently sets them down. He covers Y/n up with a small minecraft theme blanket he got for their birthday and brushes some hair out of their face. " Love you, kiddo. " Tommy says while turning off the light and leaving the room.

[simpurnatural]

Possessive Warden!Sam

Sam said something on the lines “We were fine till you came around” (don’t quote me on that) to Tommy while escorting him out of the prison after trying to kill Dream.

OML possessive Warden!Sam is something I think we all need in life. I’ll be right back… 🖊

Just giving a more in depth blurb on our favorite Warden! ^ know that this is completely separate from Power is Power

Warden!Sam x Prisoner!FReader, C!Dream x Prisoner!FReader

Warning ⚠️: NSFW, Smut, Cussing, Dirty-Talk, Daddy Kink

Any writing errors? Point them out! Love some helpful feedback! <3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN LUVS <3

You had somehow convinced Sam that you and Dream should be allowed to talk to each other. First, it was confiscated letters, then monitored phone calls, and now you’re getting to speak face to face.

The lava lowered slowly and revealed everyone’s favorite bad guy, Dream. The blond turned his head to look at you as you waved eagerly.

“You have to walk with the platform once it starts moving,” Sam instructs, you nod quickly as Dream returns the wave. “Let me know when you want to go, alright?” he asks, whispering in your ear.

“Yes,” you reply, looking at him and noticing his jaw clench “-Sir,” you add quickly.

“Good girl,” he hums before walking away to switch a few levers. “Be good!” he hollers, loud enough for Dream to hear.

“How’d you convince him?” Dream asked as the distance between the two of you closed.

“Well, I asked.” You replied, the lava wall beginning to flow back down.

“On your knees?” He questions, “The Warden’s dick in your mouth with tears streaming down your face?”

“What?” You said quickly, face reddening.

“You’ve been nothing but a cum-slut since you got here!” The blonde wheezes, his hand hitting the lectern.

“No-“

“Oh come on, I can see through you,” he says, trying to catch his breath. “Is that why you’ve come to see me?” he asks.

“No, I just wanted someone else to talk to,” you explained.

“Okay, but you just say the word and I’ll have you calling me sir too,” Dream chuckles, stepping closer to you.

You bit your lips teasingly “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” you say.

...

Sam grumbled an incoherent curse word as he monitored the cameras in Dream’s cell. You and the blonde criminal were moments away from sucking each other’s faces off.

At least, that’s what Sam thought. His brows furrowed when he noticed that his knuckles turn a ghostly white from how gripped his trident. Surely he wasn’t jealous...right?

His attention went back to how Dream was so touchy with you. The way his hands would slightly go under the hem of your orange top. Or how his face would disappear in the crook of your neck. Not to mention the fact that you weren’t stopping him.

Your laughter could be heard through the camera's scuffed mic. He had managed to corner you and now had your hands above your head.

“Why don’t we give him a show?” Dream whispered, head nodding towards the camera behind him.

“Oh we shouldn’t,” you sighed “I’ll be “

“-Punished?” He cut off “I’m sure you won’t mind,” he says before beginning to leave soft kisses on your neck.

“Dream-“ you gasped, feeling his boner against your thigh.

“Okay! Party time is over!” Sam shouts as the lava wall discontinued flowing down.

“Daddy’s mad,” Dream cooed with a taunting pout to the Warden as you stepped on the platform again.

Sam’s creeper-likeand hissing became more apparent as you got closer. The green hues of smoke emitting from his gas mask.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson about letting other boys touch you,” he grumbled, yanking you towards him and furiously flipping a few levers.

Sams routine of opening and closing doors was as quick as he was ripping clothes off your body. He balled up your now torn clothes and threw them across your cell.

“You. Don’t. Ever. Listen.” He huffs, undoing his belt and letting his pants fall. “How many times should I spank you?” he asks.

You were now bare naked with your ass in the air. Face in a pillow and your core was aching.

“Answer me whore,” Sam says, smacking your ass which made you moan.

“T-ten” you whimpered as he ran over the red outline for his hand gently.

“Let’s make fifteen for letting him kiss you. Count for me.” He instructs.

“One”

“T-two”

“Three”

“Four”

“F-fuck, five”

“Six”

“Seven”

“Eight”

“N-nine”

“Ten”

“E-eleven”

“T-twelve”

“Thirteen”

“Fourteen”

“Fifteen”

Your ass was now bright red and Sam gave it a squeeze.

“Gonna be good for me now?” he asks, moving even closer to you with cock exposed.

“Yes sir,” you nod before being flipped over.

“I wanna see you crumble as I fuck you so good.” Sam says, his tip teasing at you folds.

“S-sir please,” you beg as he began to fill up.

“Always so tight for me,” Sam smirks “Now matter how many time I fuck that perfect hole of yours,” he says, snapping his hips into yours.

His cock going in and out of you at an animalistic rate, a bulge disappearing then reappearing in your stomach.

“Dream could never fuck you this good,” he growls to which you moan out his name.

Sam attacked your neck with blood vessel popping hickies. You were moaning so much from the intense pleasure he was giving you right now.

You came with a shaking cry but Sam kept going. Not skipping a single beat as he overstimulated you.

“S-Sam please,” you sobbed, squeezing his biceps which would leave marks later.

“I won’t stop until I’ve filled you to the brim.” he says, somehow speeding up even more. “You won’t be able to even walk back to Dream’s cell.”

And that was just the first round.

[corysmiles]

Just thinking. Tiny streamer but angst. While staying at Wilbur house he accidentally hurt Tommy (nothing to serious) and Wilbur is just freaking out and the guilty is eating him alive

Little Streamer AU angst

cw/language

—————————————————————

They were gonna be late. Phil had invited all of them to meet up at a nice restaurant Tubbo had recommended since it was very well rated and supposedly extremely tiny friendly.

However, when Wilbur fell asleep earlier with Tommy curled up on his chest he had failed to remember to set an alarm. And now they only had fifteen minutes to get to a restaurant 45 minutes away.

“Fuck Tommy wake up we gotta go,” Wilbur urged as he gently nudged the sleepy tiny.

Tommy gripped the fabric of Wilbur’s shirt and pulled it around him like a blanket, snuggling further into Wilbur’s chest.

“Nooooo I’m too tired,” the small boy whined, “And you’re so comfortable.”

Wilbur sighed and tapped Tommy with his finger until the boy slapped him away.

“Come on you don’t want to disappoint Phil do you,” Wilbur smirked.

Tommy pushed his head into the ruffled shirt and huffed.

“Don’t bring Philza Minecraft into this,” he mumbled, “You know that’s not fair.”

Wilbur laughed as he started to sit up with Tommy still gripping onto him.

“You got ten seconds and then I’m gonna get up,” Wilbur warned jokingly.

“Ten...nine...eight...seven,” Wilbur laughed as Tommy grumbled even louder, “six...five...four-“

“Stop Wil I’m tired,” Tommy groaned.

“Three...two,” Wilbur paused and nudged the tiny with his wrist, “Tommy come one we gotta go.”

“Can’t we wait a little longer?” the teen murmured.

Wilbur chuckled and slowly stood up with the boy still laying on his chest, “One...Toms come on, you’re being ridiculous.”

He heard the boy squeak and reached out to pick him up off his shirt when he realized Tommy wasn’t hanging on anymore.

“Tommy?”Wilbur asked.

He heard a weak cry come the floor and immediately he felt fear flood his brain. Fuck, he had dropped Tommy.

“Oh god are you okay?” Wilbur panicked as he kneeled down to look for the tiny teen.

Tommy wheezed out a laugh and held his leg close to himself.

“Yeah I’m fine. I’m fine Wilbur,” Tommy said softly.

Wilbur carefully scooped the hurt boy into his hands and studied him with wide eyes.

“Oh god I’m so sorry what hurts?” He asked quickly.

Tommy shrugged and pulled up his pant leg where a large purple bruise was already forming.

“It’s just a bruise big man I’ll live. Come on aren’t we late?”

Wilbur gave a quick nod, but the idea that he had hurt the tiny was causing many unpleasant thoughts to fester in his head.

(Continued under the cut due to length)

Quickly the two got ready and drove off to the restaurant to meet up with the others. The dinner went fairly well,and Wilbur watched with a small smile as Tommy and Tubbo joked back and forth from their seats at the table. Though whenever their conversation shifted towards him he felt like he didn’t deserve it, he’d hurt Tommy after all.

He knew that he should have been more careful, Tommy was so fucking small compared to him, and even small compared to other tinies he had seen. He was lucky that Tommy was only bruised from the fall. A fall from the couch wouldn’t have been that bad if he was human but as a tiny...Wilbur didn’t even want to think about what could have happened.

After dinner the group said their goodbyes and Wilbur silently scooped up Tommy to rest in his shirt pocket while he called an Uber. He felt the kid shift around but otherwise he was weirdly quiet until they got back to the older man’s apartment.

“Hey Wil,” he heard Tommy call out.

Wilbur shrugged off his coat and gently placed Tommy on the kitchen counter to talk, “Yeah Toms?”

Tommy looked up at the human with an unreadable expression and sighed.

“You know I’m not mad at you right?”

Immediately Wilbur felt guilt dig into his heart again at the reminder of what had happened only a couple hours earlier.

The human forced out a nervous cough and shrugged at the upset tiny.

“Wil it was an accident,” Tommy stated, “Accidents happen big man, all the time actu-“

Wilbur snapped, “it’s different though I could have- I hurt you Tommy. I knew you were smaller than me and I still I- I fucking dropped you and for what? A joke?”

Tommy glared at his shoes and retorted, “Wilbur it’s fine really. I’m just bruised it’s not like I broke anything and I’ve fallen before from much farther places.”

Wilbur let out a deep breath and mumbled out, “So that’s supposed to make me feel better about that huh? That you didn’t break anything, even though with my fucking carelessness you very much could have.”

“Wil stop,” Tommy snapped, “Stop blaming yourself for this shit. I was the one who didn’t get up, it’s not your fault. I know you wouldn’t actually try to hurt me, but I’m not glass Wilbur.”

Wilbur stared into the tiny’s determined eyes and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I know I know,” Wilbur gave in, “I just...I really care about you. I know it’s like a bit and all, but I do see you as a brother Toms. And I...fuck I’ve never been around tinies before and now that I know you are one I’m so scared of fucking up and losing you...”

Tommy’s determined gaze softened at the human’s confession and as tears started to well up in Will’s eyes a gentle pressure leaned against the older’s hand.

Wilbur wiped away the few stray tears and gave a sad smile to the tiny who was now hugging the side of his finger.

“I care about you too Wilbur,” Tommy comforted, “But don’t worry about me alright? I forgive you, and I know you didn’t want to hurt me and shit. I still trust you with my life big man.”

Wilbur nodded sadly and slowly wrapped his hand around Tommy like a hug. The tiny snuggled into the human’s palm and gently rubbed against it with his hand.

“I know you trust me,” Wilbur sighed, “I just- I don’t wanna give you a reason to regret that.”

Tommy laughed lightly as Wilbur’s thumb gently rubbed against his head.

“You won’t Wil,” Tommy replied, “You could never make me stop trusting you unless you like fucking squished me or some shit. Then I’d fucking make your life a living hell.”

Wilbur laughed at the teen’s loudness and pulled him to his chest.

“I wouldn’t Tommy,” he reassured jokingly.

Tommy laughed and gently punched Wilbur’s chest, “Yeah you better not dickhead, then I’d have to find another person to sleep on.”

Wilbur grinned at the tiny and chuckled softly, watching as the boy giggled and tried to push Wilbur’s hand away.

“Come on Toms wanna play some games or something,” Wilbur asked softly.

Tommy laughed and gave him a thumbs up, “Of fucking course I do.”

Wilbur dropped Tommy into his chest pocket and sat down at his couch where a game was already set up to play.

He was barely paying attention until he heard Tommy mumble something unintelligible, and asked him to say it again.

“I said I trust you Wil,” the tiny whispered, “Please don’t feel bad.”

Wilbur smiled and pushed a gentle hand against where Tommy rested in his pocket.

“I know...Thank you so much Toms, for everything.”

[earthfire-75]

You Send Me Flying

Chapter Two:

Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music, beta’d by @lady-jane-revisited. Based on The Dirt movie as I still don’t have the book ☹️ not smut…yet.

Vince came back after a few minutes and found us still in the kitchen. “Hey, guys, listen, she wants to go home-“

“What? No way! We still have to practice!” Nikki spoke up.

“Jesus H. Christ. If I wasn’t fed up with her shit before, I am now. That woman fucks with my nerves and doesn’t bother with a courtesy reach-around. She can take a cab, for fuck’s sake, or call her daddy.”

Nikki points over at me. “I like her, she can stay. Your girlfriend on the other hand…”

Vince sighs. “I’ll see what I can do.” He leaves to go talk to her again and we can hear her yelling through the door. It takes longer, but Vince does eventually come back in. “Ok guys, she’s gone.”

Everyone gave a sigh of relief at that announcement. For the remainder of the day, the boys continued with playing more songs until the sun began to set. We were all feeling a little peckish and so we decided to call in a phone order for Chinese food. After the food arrived, we sat round the coffee table to eat, Nikki passing out notebooks and pens to Tommy, Vince and Mick.

“Ok, so here’s my theory,” Nikki begins, “if we wanna knock people on their asses, then we gotta give ‘em a show. The Punks, they’re doing the minimalistics, so let’s take it in the exact opposite direction. I’m…I’m talking like stadium shows in the clubs, man. Like costumes and lights-“

“And pyro! With flames and explosions and shit!” Tommy interrupts, turning his can of hairspray and lighter into a makeshift torch.

“Exactly, exactly! Look, it’s a fuckin’ war out there, and the only way we win is by showing these kids something they’ve never seen before.”

“So what do we call this thing?” Vince asks.

“Here…” Nikki picks up his notebook and starts flipping through the pages. “It’s all about being larger than life!” He finally holds up his notebook for us to see a pentagram with X Mass under it.

“X Mass?” Vince asks.

“Yeah…”

“On a scale of one to ten…I give it a one point nine.” Mick intones, making the other three laugh.

I shook my head in feigned anguish, “That’s harsh. Accurate, but harsh!”

Mick just shrugs.

“It’s a play on Christmas! You know, you can use all the Christ imagery and shit! It’ll piss people off and make people think, you know?”

Tommy makes a face and I could tell Mick still wasn’t convinced.

“It’s got shock value…”

Vince shook his head.

“Yeah, I’m shocked by how much it blows.”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Mick has some wicked wit. Which, by the way, does nothing to cool down my attraction to him as we sat around the table.

Nikki tossed the notebook down, “Alright, assholes, you give it a shot. But make it big!”

Everyone picks up their notebooks and a pen or marker. Vince looks like he can’t come up with anything, and I find myself entranced by Mick’s look of concentration, but Tommy is quickly scribbling in his. When he’s done, he turns it around. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Tommy’s childish giggle was enough to confirm I wasn’t seeing things. Vince laughed and Nikki scoffed while Mick rolled his eyes.

“Still have the mind of a twelve year old, I see. As well as the body.”

“Ouch…and she says I’m the harsh one.”

“The Foreskins? Really? Tommy?”

“Yeah! Cause we’re gonna fuck the audience in the face every night, dude!”

“Yeah, but…but can you see that shit on the marquee above the Forum?!”

“Yeah, ok, you’re right. I’m out.”

Vince holds up his hands, indicating he’s not even gonna try. But Mick starts to write something down thoughtfully. The guys seem impressed when he turns the notebook in his hands. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this day.”

“Alright,” Nikki says, taking the notebook from Mick and adding to it, the dots over the O and changing crew to Crue with the dots over the U. Mick smiles with satisfaction. It’s the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen and damn if I wouldn’t fall head over heels if I stuck around. And yet…

“Hey, you were talking about costumes before. Does that include makeup?” I asked Nikki before I could stop myself.

“Yeah! Yeah! All that shit!” Nikki enthuses. “Why, you know someone who can do that?”

I just smile and point at myself.

“No shit?”

“Yeah,” Vince pipes up, “she’s getting her makeup artist license. She’s perfect for the job!”

I smile, “Well I do need a job, and based on what I’m hearing, I am getting a few ideas in mind as to how you could all dress. I mean, if you’re interested in what i have to say.” I grabbed the notebook and pen to create a quick sketch of possible outfits or makeup. The guys were interested, some even suggesting to add their own ideas as to what they could wear too. Talks of leather, tight pants, belts, and a bit of heavy make up were tossed around, “Nikki you said that you guys want to go all out? This is how you do it.”

Mick rested his chin on his palm as he looked over the drawings, “That’s pretty wicked actually.”

I felt my cheeks becoming warm after hearing his compliment, and who else but Tommy proceeded to tease me with a schoolboy-ish tone, “Oooooh!”

“Fuck off Tommy!” I shouted, hitting him with the notebook, although that hardly affected his immature outburst when he made a puckered up kissing face. “You’re such an asshole!” I stood up and headed towards the balcony to cool off. Once I was out there, I took out my lighter and pack of cigarettes. The stupid thing wouldn’t light up, it had to be low on butane. I chucked the lousy device into the street and rested my elbows onto the steel bars, letting out a frustrated huff.

The night was warm, typical of most any night in the City of Angels. The street lights were already glowing bright, except for one near the end of the street that’s blinking. The light’s trying its very best to burn bright this evening. The sound of approaching footsteps are of no concern to me, instead I kept my eyes on the concrete ground below me. A clicking noise caused me to turn around, there’s Mick with a lighter in hand, the flame burning bright. He brought it close to my cigarette and, after inhaling the harsh, familiar taste of tobacco in my mouth, I thanked him.

“You alright?” Mick wondered, standing by my side.

I simply shrugged my shoulders, “It’s whatever, Tommy’s always been like that for as long as I’ve known him. I don’t really care anymore.”

“You sure about that?” he asked nonchalantly.

I scowled at him and spat back, “Why do you care?” I took another drag and puffed out a cloud of smoke to him.

He raised an eyebrow and then headed back inside. A part of me was kicking myself for responding back at him like that, yet I was reminding myself that I had more important matters to focus on. Quite frankly, he shouldn’t have been one of them.

@nature-and-music @lady-jane-revisited @mickmarstookmyheart @gothicfuneralsblog @sophiazeppelinchick

[painless-innit-colourful]

‘Two Down, One To Go’ - part 1

My biggest gripe with how late the three canon lives system was brought in is that the early deaths never got the weight they deserved in canon. So I fixed that. The night of L’Manberg’s independence is the biggest party any of them have ever attended, but Tommy’s not in a merry mood. Tubbo finds out why. Featuring a little headcanon about how a person knows how many lives they have left.

part two | part three

---

Night of Independence

“One, two, three, four, five-” His heart was racing, fingers tightening on the bowstring. There was a kind of dread in his heart like never before. Not only was Dream a better shot than him; he knew it. And to bet both the future of his country and one of his discs on his abilities…

“-six, seven, eight, nine-” His arms ached; his whole body ached. Bruises and scrapes and barely healed gashes littered his limbs from Eret’s betrayal. That b*stard. He snuck a glance at his fellows. They’d all lost so much today. All their things, a war, a country; not to mention a life apiece. Something had erupted inside of him when they’d woken back in the camarvan with a tally mark each: something red and explosive. And they returned his gaze, Tubbo and Fundy watching with bated breath. He couldn’t see Wilbur from the direction he was facing, but he imagined his expression was about the same. Fear, apprehension and just the smallest sliver of hope.

“-Ten paces fire!” And then it died, for the second time in twenty-four hours. As did Tommy.

The mood around the campfire was merry. Wilbur had poured them all drinks (watered down for everyone but him, especially Fundy) and was currently leading him and Tubbo in a half-drunk singalong of something that had started as the L’Manberg anthem, that had since devolved into innuendos about explosions and jokes about ‘independance’, though they kept in the parts with the names and the ‘it’s a very real and not blown up L’Manberg’. Tommy tried to have a good time, shouting “F*ck Eret!” every time that line came up, but the feeling was bittersweet. He slipped his hand inside his shirt and felt the tiny ridges. Two tallies. He hadn’t told the others yet. They’d given him enough pity when he’d told them how he’d traded away the discs. He didn’t need them fawning over him for this as well.

Unfortunately, it seemed he hadn’t been subtle enough. Tubbo sat down beside him, out of breath from dancing and grinning at Wilbur’s antics, and the first thing he laid his eyes on when he looked to Tommy was his hand inside his shirt. Tommy internally cursed himself and quickly removed it, but Tubbo had already latched onto the topic, “Feels weird doesn’t it?”

“Hm?” “The… Death mark.” A slight tremor passed over him, his eyes wandering down to where his own sat. The marks always showed just below a person’s collarbone, on the left side of the chest, close to the heart. “Maybe not weird but… I never expected to have one this- this early.” His words hung in the night air. They were both just kids, Fundy too, and they were all too close to a permanent death than they should be. But Tommy found some solace in how his friends had survived the war gaining only one. They were the lucky ones. Tommy had not only lost his most valued possessions but another life too. There was a line to death, and now Tommy walked along it, feet placed end to end like an acrobat tip-toeing a tightrope. Any moment now could be his last forever. It was unlikely he’d die right this second: he’d just secured peace for goodness’ sake, but what if? All it could take now was a stray arrow, a random attacker, a careless match finding an explosive in an untouched corner of L’Manberg, and that would be it for him. Gone.

Tubbo shuffled closer, “Tommy, are you okay man?” Drat. Once again, his face betrayed his feelings. He glanced around the partying men. Of all the people here, he trusted Tubbo the most, but mainly, the secret was starting to weigh him down worse than a full suit of netherite. He was tired of saying he was fine. Besides, it was Tubbo. His best friend, his brother. They’d been fighting together since the beginning: the Disc War, the Pet Wars and most of his other scuffles with citizens of the SMP, major and minor. He could trust Tubbo.

“Tubbo, I… Give me your hand.” One boy put his hand in the others’, and Tommy laid it on his chest, where they could both feel the lines representing a betrayal and a duel through the thin fabric of his shirt. Tubbo’s face changed from concern to horror to pity as he ran his fingers back and forth over the two ridges, checking, again and again, to verify what he couldn’t quite believe was true.

“You never said-” He started to say, but Tommy silenced him with a finger to his own lips hurriedly. “I didn’t want to worry anyone.” He sighed. “Or detract from the celebrations. I’m fine. It’s just a second mark.” Tubbo gave him a look halfway between disappointment and sympathy. “First of all, it’s not ‘just a second mark’ and second, you know that because I can see it on your face. It’s affecting you, dude.” Tommy looked away, closing his hand around Tubbo’s. “I don’t wanna think about it tonight, but I can’t-” He looked around at his four closest comrades. “I can’t stop running it over in my head, how much we’ve lost.” He gestured around them, at the land of their country torn apart, at the small patch of scorched grass they’d found sound enough to celebrate on. His eyes met Tubbo’s, creased with worry. “Five lives between us. Five.”

“Well… We’ve lost a lot, but we’ve also gained, y’know? What you did-” “How do you feel?” “Hm?” Tommy squeezed Tubbo’s hand. “How does it feel to be down a life?” “Don’t you remember?” He smiled faintly. “It was only this morning.” “I was a bit preoccupied, Tubbs.” They giggled half-heartedly. “True.” There was a moment of quiet broken only by the sounds of the party, and then; “I suppose I’m okay. I know I’m a bit closer to dying now, but I’ve still got another chance. So I can manage, I think.” “Do you feel more… mortal? Vulnerable?” Tommy’s voice was small. “Yeah. Like, I know what it’s like to die now- or, I know I can die. That it’s possible. I think that’s what it’s like for the others as well.”

Tubbo’s gaze drifted to look over at Wilbur, and Tommy’s soon followed. “Well, he seems fine.” The blonde remarked as Wilbur whirled past, drink in hand, a brown coat over his revolutionary uniform, adding more and more names from the crowd around them to the anthem as Fundy looked on, bemused. “I guess,” Tubbo shrugged. “He’s a bit older, so it’s less… jarring to be down one. Still not ideal, but not entirely unexpected.” “Well he’s certainly taking it well.” And at that Tubbo laughed. “He’s also quite drunk. So drunk he hasn’t noticed Fundy’s stopped watering his beers down.” That brought forth a small smile from Tommy. Tubbo continued: “He’s had time, y’know?” He paused, waiting for Tommy to look him in the eye. “When… When did you notice it?”

“After Dream took off with the discs. I finally came down from the adrenaline rush when I was alone in my house, just before I got back on comms to let you guys know. I felt it while I was taking off my armour. The tiniest little sting... And there it was.” He remembers standing alone in his house, examining both the duel scar and the extra mark in the grimy mirror he’d taken off the wall and leant on the floor. For a moment it was like the floor had gone out from beneath him again, but luckily this time it wasn’t an explosion. It hadn’t crossed his mind before then: all his brainpower had been in use, between worrying for his friends, discs, country and bow skills. The physical and mental pain of losing the duel had kept his mind off his own mortality as well, but there it was, staring him in the face, taunting him.

‘Two lives in less than twenty-four hours,’ it seemed to say (and he’d be omitting important details to not mention how it spoke in an American accent) ‘You won’t make it to twenty, or eighteen, or even your next birthday. Are you running out of time? Are you running out of time? Are you running out of ti-’

“What you did was incredibly brave and selfless.” Tubbo’s voice snapped him out of the memory of Death calling out to him, or maybe that was just him being melodramatic. “More like stupid. I didn’t know what I was doing.” “Well, Wilbur did tell you, he said ‘ohh Tommy, this country isn’t worth your life’.” “I wasn’t thinking.” “Well... I don’t care.” Tubbo squeezed his hand. “And maybe that’s a little selfish, but we’re free because of the trade you made, and maybe you’d never have pushed Dream to that point without the duel. I don’t know. But now we’re free. We’ve been beaten down by that tyrant for so long, but now we’re finally free.” He gave him a firm smile, “Yeah.” It was hard not to get swept up in Tubbo’s good moods, so Tommy reached for his drink. “Cheers. To L’Manberg!” “L’Manberg!” Tubbo knocked his tankard into Tommy’s and they both took a long drink. Wilbur overheard them and knocked Fundy’s drink out of his hands in his tipsy enthusiasm, and then there was another round of My L’Manberg. And as Tommy listened to the growing, rowdy chorus of his country, he let go of his fears for a while. Maybe they’d never leave him for the rest of his life, but for right now, they had their walls, their drinks and their song.

And as long as there were more crosses on the flag than lines on his tally, he’d be fine.

---

Taglist: @nixavia @zrenia (Please let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist in future :)

[chandelier-s-notebook]

I'm using @crowfootwrites' June List Day 8: Stage

Lier’s late again, I’ll catch up soon. Anyways, this is a story in a Band AU that I’ve had for a while. Here’s the Ao3 link for the series if you want to read up on it. And as always, let me know if you wanna be tagged in any future endeavors this AU brings me.

Taglist: @sleepysnails

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

“Phil. You cannot go on stage with a green shirt that says ‘On Wednesdays we Wear Pink’ for a Friday show.”

“Why not?”

“So many reasons.” Niki thrust a white bomber jacket at him. “If you refuse to change then at least put this on.”

Phil turned it over in his hands.

“And there’s a handkerchief pocket for your bandana.” Niki left Phil to his devices after that, handing him off to tech to get his microphone sorted out. “Tommy you’re late.”

“Someone didn’t spam me,” Tommy apologized, glaring at Wilbur across the dressing room. “I was playing Minecraft with Tubbo and Ranboo.”

Niki sighed. “It could have been worse. I haven’t needed to send someone for you yet.”

“Sorry.”

“Get in the makeup chair.”

“Do I have too?”

“Tommy.”

“Running along.”

“Put on the black jeans today. Wilbur where are you putting your bandana?”

“Wrist.”

“Techno?”

“End of my braid.”

Niki fixed up Wilbur’s collar. “Ok I’m done. I’m done. If I stay anything longer I’m just gonna keep shifting stuff around. Tommy the corner of your bandana in your pocket; let it hang out.”

The makeup artist held Tommy’s mouth shut so they could do their job properly, not letting him speak. He threw a thumbs-up at her.

“I’m out.” Niki leaned over to fix the bow Techno was making.

“Thanks. But you need to go.” Techno threw the braid behind his back. “Go enjoy you evening.”

“Tommy’s hair is pink.”

“Yes. We noticed.” Techno pushed her towards the door. “Tommy matches with me, it’s fine. We don’t have time to fix it, even with acrylic paint.”

“You are not painting my hair! Schedule the dye job in later.”

“I will,” Niki managed to say just before Techno slammed the door.

“Be nice to Niki,” Wilbur admonished.

“I am nice. She said she was leaving.”

Now that Niki stressing out over their outfits was out of the room, the band members were able to relax. The makeup artist finishes with Tommy and leaves the room as well. Tommy takes his mic from the tech guy and now it’s just the four of them in the room.

Techno dropped to the couch. “Aren’t your friends nine hours behind us?”

“They messaged me,” Tommy defended. “I only said yes because they asked. I didn’t bother them first.”

“Promise?” Techno opened his arms for Tommy to fall into.

“I promise.” Tommy changed into the black jeans. He let himself get pulled into Wilbur’s arms, and scrunched his nose when he ruffled his hair.

“So did you remember that you had somewhere to be? Or did their class period end first?” Wilbur asked the top of Tommy’s head.

“Class ended.”

“Sorry for not spamming you. I thought you had it covered.”

“I did. We still have time.”

“Wilbur let go of Tommy he needs to set up his mic-pack.”

“Shut up old man!” Tommy yelled, pushing Wilbur away from him.

“I wasn’t hugging Tommy!”

Techno chucked and grabbed Tommy. “I am.”

“Guys!”

“Boys let Tommy go. We need to be on stage soon. Don’t get him in trouble for not being ready.”

“Tommy’s the drummer. He doesn’t need to mic,” Wilbur said.

“Yes he does.” Phil pried Tommy from the boys. “He’s the fans’ favourite.”

Tommy stuck his tongue out. “Ha ha.”

Tommy put in his headset. “Show time in ten, places please.”

“Oh.” Tommy saluted his band mates. “Tokyo here we come.” Tommy threw the door open.

“We’re already into Tokyo!” Wilbur yelled.

“Flipping you off!” Tommy shouted from down the hall. He ran through the hallway to his drum rig.

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part ten

490 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine

When he opens his locker on Monday morning, two notes are lying there amongst Eddie’s things. 

One in the usual scrawl he’s grown fond of and one not. 

Eddie i really like your smile, even when you’re being a little shit how was your weekend? anything fun? i missed you at the party  i don’t think you showed but i was really fucked up so who knows that’s ok though, i didn’t really wanna be there either  -H

Eddie can’t help but smile. The second note, on the other hand, makes him snort. It’s the shit he usually got in his locker before H. 

Freak yada yada yada fag yada yada going to hell blah blah blah blah.

God. Very original. He throws that one in the trash and tucks H’s away with the others. 

He still can’t quite picture Tommy Hagan saying the things from the notes, but he guesses that was sort of the whole point. 

Still, he’s having trouble combining the two people in his mind. 

He doesn’t know which is the true Tommy, but, honestly, Eddie wants no part in finding out. He doesn’t wanna know if Tommy actually likes him. Just the thought makes him shiver in disgust. The boy isn’t all that bad looking. The freckles are kind of cute. But, man, he’s so annoying. 

Eddie doesn’t wanna know if the notes were a prank the entire time, either. For all he knows, Tommy probably got a good laugh when Eddie showed up last week actually wearing the ring.

Eddie doesn’t know what he’s gonna do.

Well, that’s a lie. He’s taking the damn ring off, that’s for sure. 

He doesn’t have the heart to throw it away, though, so he just puts it with the bundle of notes for now. 

At lunch, Tommy is facing away from him, but he can’t help but stare as he tries to mesh the man he’s looking at now with the one who wrote him such sweet messages. 

Eddie knows that the next time he sees Tommy calling someone names or just being an asshole in general he’s gonna have to hold himself back. If he were a worse person, he’d confront him about it. Alas, he’s not. 

His gaze wanders to Tommy’s right where Carol Perkins sits. That’s the other thing; Tommy has a girlfriend. 

Eddie doesn’t even wanna attempt to untangle that mess. He shakes his head and moves onto another person in Tommy’s orbit. 

Steve Harrington. The King. The Hair. 

God, Eddie kinda wishes it were him instead. He’s never been that much of an asshole, honestly. He was even pretty great about the whole birthday fee thing which was refreshing after arguing with people for a whole week beforehand - including Tommy. 

Eddie shares art class with Steve. Carol, too. Neither of them seem that bad. He just doesn’t understand why they’re friends with Tommy. 

Then again, there’s not much he understands these days.

eleven

tag list (closed)

@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso

@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx

@tinyplanet95 @dannys-guilt-ridden-cockroach @theohohmoment @corvus-perplexus @hippieg1rl420

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@resident-gay-bitch @anaibis @moomkin77 @thrashbatx @salchica

@flustratedcas @ajeff855 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @pearynice @imaginary-maggie-waggie

sorry if i missed anyone!!

[im-a-star-boy]

The Duel (Remastered)

Hoo boy remember the L’Manburg revolution? It’s been a while boys. Also I SWEAR TO GOD if anyone looks at rescue breaths and goes “ohmygodkissing” i’m going to steal your kneecaps and put them in a food proccessor and feed them to my dogs do not even fucking look at them i swear i-

@panna-pan eyyyy

TW: Blood, Violence, CPR, Swearing, Death

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Summary: The Duel between Dream and Tommy but a little bit to the left.

Word Count: 3,212

Date of Completion: Saturday, January 23rd, 2021

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Tommy stared across the field, his heart pounding in his throat. He was hurt, tired, and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep with his comrades by his side. 

Tubbo stood close to him, cupping his bleeding side as they examined the walls that surrounded L’Manburg. Dream stood atop the wall, watching them through the mask, with George and Eret by his sides.

His throat closed as a mixture of emotions flooded his mind. Anger, fear, betrayal, all balled up in his stomach in a flaming cocktail of hurt. His eyes burned with tears that threatened to spill. He took an angry step forward, screaming at the top of his lungs. “DREAM! GET YOUR FUCKING ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!” He demanded, his throat burning.

Wilbur lurched forward and grabbed his shoulder, pulling Tommy back. “Tommy, stop.”

Safe to say, he didn’t. “GET OVER HERE DREAM! I WANNA TALK TO YOU DICKHEAD!”

“Tommy-”

“GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Wilbur gripped Tommy’s shoulders and forced the younger to look at him. “Tommy- stop this!” He snapped, his voice breaking slightly.

Tommy turned to face him and Wilbur was thrown off by the pain in his expression. He was barely holding back tears as he gripped his fists, his body shaking lightly. “Tommy,” He whispered softly.

The youngers’ trembling increased as he furiously wiped away the tears that threatened to spill. He shoved the brunet off him violently and turned to the walls again. “GET THE FUCK OVER HERE DREAM! I WANNA TALK TO YOU!”

Dream didn’t move for a few moments before turning to George, saying something they couldn’t hear, and stepping forward, scaling down the wall. Wilbur felt his heart drop at the sight, suddenly terrified that the younger had angered the masked man. 

None of them had armor, and their weaponry was lackluster if they were being generous with their descriptions. He grabbed Tommy’s shoulder again. “Tommy, Tommy stop, we can’t fight him,”

The blond ignored him, pulling away from his grip and stepping towards Dream angrily. The two met in the middle of the field, neither of them spoke for several seconds. 

Dream was the first to break the silence. “So? What did you want me for?”

Tommy straightened, eye level with the mask and a dangerous look in his eye. “I want a duel,”

Dream shifted, his posture changing from amused to curious. “Oh?”

“I want to duel you, Dream. To the death. Ten paces, one bow, five arrows.” 

Dream chuckled. “That’s a dangerous challenge,”

Wilbur stepped forward, something in his chest seizing. “Tommy- Tommy this isn’t worth it.”

The blond didn’t respond, keeping his eyes on Dream. “At sundown,”

“Tommy- your life is worth more than the Revolution, stop this.”

Tommy didn’t look at him. “If I win, L’Manburg gets independence and you’ll leave us alone.”

Dream hummed, seeming to consider the options. “And what do I get if I win?”

Tommy swallowed. “What do you want?”

The masked man paused again, thinking, before shifting and puffing his chest smugly. “If I win, L’Manburg doesn’t get independence, you back out of the war and forget this ever happened,” Tommy opened his mouth to agree before getting cut off by Dream again. “-and, you give me your disc, Mellohi.”

Tommy felt his stomach drop and his heart seemed to skip a few beats. After a moment, he swallowed thickly. “Deal,”

Dream grinned and put his hand out. Tommy shuddered and reached to shake, his hand shaking a bit.

Wilbur jumped. “Tommy don’t-!”

The blond ignored him and gripped his hand firmly, the two shaking. They sealed the deal.

Wilbur felt his heart flip in his chest, a sudden fear and regret for bringing Tommy into the war in the first place gripping him. He took a breath as Tommy called over his shoulder. “Does anyone have a poison potion? Or a bow?”

Punz stepped forward and handed a splash potion to Tommy. The blond took it and turned. “You have until sundown,”

Dream nodded and turned away, approaching Sapnap who was watching with a raised eyebrow.

Tommy turned and met Wilbur’s gaze. “Why did you do that?” The taller whispered.

“I had to, for L’Manburg,”

Wilbur took a sharp breath. “You’re worth more than L’Manburg, Tommy.”

Tommy met his gaze. “I’m not worth more than everyone here,”

Wilbur looked like he was going to argue before glancing over at the others who were watching just out of earshot. He sighed and rubbed his face. “Tommy, please don’t do this. He’ll kill you.”

Tommy shrugged. “It’s already done,”

Wilbur took a shaky breath. “I know.”

Tommy made his way back up the hill to the others who were watching, waiting to find out what they had just witnessed. Tubbo’s gaze softened, seeming to already know what was going to happen. 

Tommy took a breath. “Come on, we’ve got an hour.”

The others gathered, creating a quick chest for Tommy to put his belongings in. “Does anyone have a bow and arrows?” He questioned.

Tubbo shook his head. “I’ve got nothing,”

Fundy stepped forward, holding a bow. “I don’t have any arrows,” He whimpered apologetically.

Tommy’s gaze softened and he took the bow. “Thank you,”

He stared at the bow for several seconds, his head beginning to pound as he fully processed what he was getting himself into. The others huddled around him as the seconds ticked by, a painful silence between all of them. Wilbur was the first to break it. “You’ve really done it this time, Tommy.”

“This was the only way,”

Wilbur met his gaze, a distressed look in his eyes. “Tommy your- your passion is good for the war, not so much for these situations. You’ve really gotten yourself in a mess.”

Tommy turned away. “They were gonna destroy L’Manburg, we’ve already fought so hard- we can’t just let him win now!”

Wilbur looked down. “I know- I know.”

An uneasy silence fell between the two before Tommy spoke up again. “Do I shoot him Will, or do I aim to the skies?”

Wilbur stared over at the enemy for a moment. They hadn’t moved from where they waited, just talking to each other. He turned back to him. “Tommy, I want you to do whatever your heart says you should do.”

Tommy was silent for another moment. “What if I miss?”

Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut, something painful clenching in his chest. “I trust you won't,” He opened his eyes and met his brother's gaze. “You’re a good marksman, Tommy. You can win this,”

The blond nodded slightly and took a breath. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He looked to all the other L’Manburgians who wished him luck. Silence fell over them as an orange hue filled the sky, the summer sun was setting. He took a deep breath and turned, making his way to the wall. Dream scaled down again and met him in the middle. “Are you ready?”

Tommy nodded. “Are you?”

Dream hummed. “You have everything?”

“I need arrows,”

Dream nodded and turned to George. The goggled man approached, giving Dream a small handful of arrows before passing Tommy one. “You only get one,” He hummed, a petty tone to his voice.

Tommy scowled as Punz rolled his eyes, approaching and giving the blond four more. “Thank you,” He muttered.

The man only nodded and turned back as the others gathered around. Wilbur scanned the enemy and frowned as his eyes landed on Eret. “How could you?” He asked softly.

Eret met his gaze, unperturbed. “Dream gave me a better deal.”

The fresh sting of betrayal worsened as Tommy looked away from the man and back to Dream. “Let’s do it here,”

Fundy spoke up in protest. “It’s uneven terrain, it wouldn’t work.”

“How about the prime path?” Eret offered.

Dream nodded. “The prime path is good, let’s head there.”

Punz hummed and led the way, quickly killing any mobs that spawned in their wake. The group all walked in silence. The citizens of the Greater SMP had more armor, more weapons, more resources. The L’Manburgians huddled together, Tommy and Tubbo walking practically shoulder to shoulder, Fundy trailing fearfully after his father. There was a tense silence as they all walked, approaching the prime path. 

When they got there, the sun had fully set, leaving the clearing halfway shroud in darkness. Tommy stepped up onto the wooden path as Dream handed over the last of his armor and belongings. “Over here,”

Dream approached and the blond gripped the poison potion, his hands shaking a bit. He took a breath and threw it down, the green liquid splashing onto his and Dream’s skin. Dream hissed a bit in pain as the sickly feeling quickly took hold, deteriorating them. They both took a moment to let the dizziness and nausea pass.

After two minutes, the two were ready. “Wilbur, will you count?” Tommy asked softly, standing up straighter. 

The older looked between the two, nodding and swallowing thickly. “Back to back, both of you.”

Tommy did so. He could see Wilbur give him a sad look as he took a breath. “I will count to ten, you both will fire when I say so, understood?”

“Understood,” Both repeated back in unison.

Wilbur took a breath and began counting.

“One,”

Tommy felt his heart rate spike as he took the first step forward. 

“Two,”

A sudden fear gripped his chest, he wanted to back out.

“Three,”

He couldn’t.

“Four,”

After each number, it seemed like time slowed down more and more.

“Five,”

He could see Eret watching out of the corner of his eye and something ugly reared it’s head in him. Bitterness.

“Six,”

He could see Tubbo watching him, his face twisted in pain. He was hurt. Dream had hurt him.

“Seven,”

He drew his arrow up in his bow, preparing to fire.

“Eight,”

He swallowed down any fear he felt. He wasn’t scared. 

“Nine,”

That was a lie.

“Ten paces fire!”

He turned and shot.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Tommy was quick to turn and fire, as was Dream. Wilbur gasped as he watched Dream’s arrow miss Tommy by a hair. The masked man tried to move from his arrow’s line of sight, but instead dodged into the arrow. He let out a pained cry, drawing his bow back and shooting again angrily before stumbling back and falling. “DREAM!”

George and Sapnap sprinted forward to their friend’s side. Wilbur heard a splashing noise and turned to see Tommy had slipped into the lake. Tubbo laughed a bit and turned to Dream, his eyes bright. “WE WON!”

Fundy cheered, throwing his hands up in celebration. Tubbo laughed louder, a bit hysterically, as Sapnap and George tried to stop Dream’s bleeding. Wilbur turned to the lake, waiting for Tommy to resurface and celebrate with them.

A few moments passed.

He didn't.

His heart seemed to stop for a moment when he saw blood in the water, all semblance of hope disappearing from his mind. “TOMMY!” He screamed in a panic, quickly sprinting forward and diving into the water.

The celebration had stopped at Wilbur’s panicked yell, looking to where the General had dived in. A moment passed and he resurfaced, holding Tommy and pulling himself up onto the path. “Tommy!?” Tubbo yelped, panic seizing his chest.

“Get him up- get him up!” Wilbur yelled, handing the unmoving boy up to Tubbo.

The brunet dragged him up quickly and froze upon seeing the arrow in his stomach. “Fundy- Fundy go get Ponk!” He yelled, his hands shaking.

The fox hybrid stared on in horror, unmoving for a moment. “Fundy- please!” Tubbo cried, his voice breaking with panic.

The hybrid met his eyes and quickly turned, sprinting towards Ponk’s tree.

Wilbur hoisted himself up and quickly looked over Tommy, desperation gripping him. “No, no no no- no!” He screamed.

He positioned his hands over Tommy’s chest, trying to remember how his father had shown him. “Th- shit- thirty,” He wheezed to himself.

He quickly began pressing down, doing quick chest compressions. Tubbo watched on in horror as Wilbur counted. “Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty,” He breathed to himself, quickly doing two rescue breaths.

He repeated the process, waiting for Fundy to return with Ponk, silently begging that the man would be willing to help. Tubbo could see the General beginning to falter and moved closer, kneeling down on Tommy’s other side. “I can take over, you’re getting tired, tell me what to do,”

Wilbur glanced up and nodded, doing the rescue breaths quickly. He wasted no time in moving Tubbo’s hands on top of one another. “Press down, hard, you have to go down at least two inches.”

Tubbo cringed at the thought but did so. “Okay, okay good, do it fast,” Wilbur began snapping his fingers at the pace he needed to do the compressions. “And keep count, let me know when you get to thirty, I’ll do the rescue breaths,”

Tubbo nodded and continued. “Let me know if you get tired, I’ll take over, okay?”

The younger nodded yet again. Wilbur took a moment to look up to see that Eret was watching them. He looked pale, scared, while George and Sapnap seemed to have already left with Dream. Punz was watching from the background his gaze unwavering and emotionless. Something bitter clawed in Wilbur’s chest, when he heard Tubbo quickly announce, “Thirty-”

Wilbur did the rescue breaths again, his eyes beginning to water with desperation. “Tommy,” He choked out. 

Tubbo resumed compressions, when he heard a shout. “Wilbur!” 

The man looked up to see Ponk sprinting towards them. He had pajamas on, but was holding a first aid kit. “Ponk!” He nearly sobbed with relief.

He didn’t know the man well, but he had never felt more relief than he did in that moment. “Please- he’s dying- he’s-”

Ponk crouched down and set the kit down. “You’ve been doing CPR?”

“Yes,”

“Was he breathing?”

“No,”

“What happened?”

Tubbo pulled away as Ponk quickly examined him. “Him and Dream dueled, Tommy hit him but he also got hit, we didn’t see him get hit, he fell in the lake but- we- we thought he just slipped- I-”

Ponk dug into his bag and pulled out a healing potion. “Tubbo, keep doing CPR,” He ordered.

The brunet complied quickly, resuming compressions. “How long was he under water?”

“I- I don’t know, 30 seconds? Maybe 40?”

He nodded. “Okay,” And popped the cap to the potion. “I’m gonna take the arrow out and pour the potion in, look away if you can’t do blood,”

Tubbo looked to the side, keeping his eyes on Tommy’s face. “I did thirty-”

“Okay, just keep doing compressions for now, just until we have this healed,”

Tubbo nodded, not looking. Ponk carefully removed the arrow, not wanting to do more damage than what was already done. He didn’t look too hard before carefully pouring in the healing potion, trying to keep it directly on the wound. It didn’t heal the outside cut, proving it was healing damage done inside. “What happened before the duel? Was there a fight?”

Wilbur took a breath. “Uh, yeah, yeah there was a fight, we declared independence and fought,”

Ponk nodded. “Did he get hit with any potions?”

“He and Dream both took hits from a poison potion right before the duel.”

The man cursed. “This is gonna be hard then, they set this up with intentions to die if they were hit, I don’t know if I can help him,”

Wilbur bit his lip, his hands shaking. “Please, Ponk I’ll do anything, just save him, please,” He choked out.

Ponk looked up, examining his expression for several seconds, before nodding. “I’ll do what I can, but I can’t make any promises.”

Wilbur let out a heavy sob when Tubbo yelped suddenly. Ponk turned to him before looking down to see Tommy’s chest rise a bit before falling. “He’s breathing, that’s enough CPR, come on, let’s get him to his house,”

Wilbur nodded quickly and moved to pick him up carefully. “Let’s go,”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Tommy awoke slowly. It felt like his head was stuffed with cotton as he groaned. He attempted to roll over before feeling a sharp pain in his gut. He stopped all attempts of moving and fell still, wheezing in pain. He laid there, taking light, shallow breaths as he tried to remember what had happened.

He heard a door open and glanced up to see Tubbo walking in. The shorter met Tommy’s gaze for a moment before gasping and sprinting to his side. “Tommy!”

“Ey Big T,” The blond greeted, his voice hoarse.

Tubbo’s eyes brightened at his greeting as he sat next to his bed. “You’re okay!”

Tommy hummed. “Alive, but I’m not feeling great at the moment.”

Tubbo nodded gently. “Here, I got a health potion,” He said quickly, reaching over to Tommy’s nightstand and grabbing the bottle.

He popped off the lid and tilted it for Tommy. He chugged most of it, seeming relieved. “Thanks big man,”

“No problem, do you want anything? Food?”

Tommy hummed and leaned back. “Not really,”

He sat for a couple moments before his eyes snapped open. “The duel- what-”

“You hit Dream, he got you with his second arrow though. We’re waiting to see how he’s recovered. Nobody has seen him yet.”

Tommy hummed. “You think we won?”

“I mean, you hit him, he hit you, but you hit him first, so I’d say you won that. I’m gonna have a bone to pick with him if he disagrees,”

The blond chuckled lightly. “Yeah, same here.”

The two sat in a comfortable silence before Tubbo pulled out his communicator. “I’m gonna tell Wilbur you’re awake, he hasn’t really left your side until like, 10 minutes ago when I forced him to take a shower.”

Tommy laughed. “Man, he must fuckin stink.” 

“He did, it was awful,”

Tommy laughed again before groaning and clutching his stomach. “Oh fuck,”

Tubbo gave him a sympathetic gaze. “At least you’re not dead, big man.”

“Yeah, that’d fuckin suck. Imagine being the first person to lose two lives here?”

“That’d be awful,”

“It would be,”

Tubbo opened his mouth to speak again before his and Tommy’s communicator pinged. He glanced down and his eyes widened at the message.

Dream wasted away from infection

He stared at it for several seconds as Tommy watched him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Tommy, Dream just… Dream just died,”

The taller’s eyes widened. “Huh?! How?”

“Infection,”

He stared for a moment before leaning back again. “Holy shit,”

“I mean, Ponk is the only doctor for miles around, and he was helping you for the most part,”

“Oh god, Ponk was taking care of me?”

“Yeah,”

“Goddamnit now I have to forgive him for egging my house,”

“Tommy that was forever ago,”

“I hold grudges.”

Tubbo laughed and sighed. “I think it’s worth it.”

Tommy stared for a moment before relaxing. “Guess so,”

Tubbo watched as Tommy slowly started to drift off again and his gaze softened. “You can sleep, Tommy.”

The blond muttered something tiredly before slumping a bit. Tubbo smiled as his breathing evened out. He watched his breathing carefully before making himself comfortable as he sat vigil over his sleeping friend.

[ellewritesathing]

Ten Things    V

Summary: If there’s one thing you have to know about Harvey Kinkle, it’s that he rarely thinks things through. So when he meets (and falls for) Sabrina Spellman on his first day of Baxter High and finds out that she can’t date anyone until her tempestuous sister does, it seems like the obvious solution is to get someone to date her so he can go out with Sabrina. A not so obvious choice for the challenge is Caliban, but, hey, it’s not like Harvey thought that far.

Masterlist  Prev. | Part 5

Word-count: 3.1k+

A/N: sorry for the delay girls and gays (and nonbinary pals) but i finally got accepted into uni so i left the house yesterday for the first time in three months lmao 💕

Harvey had been on cloud nine ever since he dropped Sabrina home after that party. Sure it had only been a few hours ago, but still. He was so incredibly, idiotically happy that nothing could ruin his mood. His dad being pissed at him for coming home late rolled right off his back. Tommy needing the truck and him having to walk to the diner just didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Sabrina kissed him. 

Even waiting for Caliban when he was fifteen minutes late didn’t matter. Harvey just replayed last night in his head and the time flew by. 

Caliban threw his stuff down in the booth before collapsing in. “Why are you doing that with your face?” The fact that he bumped the table and almost spilled Harvey’s drink didn’t bother him. Neither did the scowl on Caliban's face.

Harvey frowned slightly. “What am I doing with my face?”  

“Well, it’s a bit better now,” Caliban said, stealing one of Harvey’s fries and munching it with a fury. “You were smiling.” 

“Is smiling bad?” 

“When it makes you like an idiot, yes.” 

“Oh.” Caliban’s horrible mood didn’t matter. Harvey told himself that Caliban just wasn’t a morning person. Or an afternoon person. Or even really a night time person. But Harvey persisted. “It’s just ‘cause I had a really good night.” 

Caliban rolled his eyes ever so slightly as he reached over for Harvey’s milkshake. He took a slurp from the straw before saying, “You and Blondie made up, I take it?”

“She asked for a ride home,” Harvey said before Caliban had even finished his sentence. “And at first I didn’t want to help because I was so mad but you should have seen her, man. I couldn’t not help her. So, I drove her home and then we stopped and I just started telling her about how shitty it was to be used and all this other stuff and then she kissed me.” 

Caliban didn’t say anything as he stared at a baby a few tables over who was stuffing their face with mashed apples. When Harvey didn’t say anything for a while, Caliban eventually looked over at him. “Where'd she kiss you?” 

“In the car!” 

“No, I meant-” Caliban sighed and shook his head. He held up a hand and gave Harvey a tired smile. “Never mind. I’m happy for you Harvey, truly.” 

“Thanks, man!” Harvey said cheerily before ordering another milkshake from the waitress and Caliban asked her to make it two. He turned back to Caliban with his almost permanent smile and asked, “So how did your night go?” 

Caliban snorted and finished what was left of Harvey’s original milkshake. When Harvey didn’t respond again, he sighed and said, “She hates me because I didn’t want to make out with her in front of her house when she was a drunken mess.”

“What? You can’t know that she hates you,” Harvey said quickly. He scurried to sit up straighter and reached out to Caliban. 

Caliban dug his phone out of his pocket and slid it over to Harvey, open on the chat between the two of you, with your last text being sent at 2am and reading: YOU’RE A REPUGNANT ASS AND I DIDN’T WANT TO KISS YOU ANYWAY. 

“Oh,” Harvey said softly, locking the phone and sliding it back over to a very dejected-looking Caliban. “I mean, she didn’t say exactly that she hated you.” 

“Harvey, I’m pretty sure that her calling me a repugnant ass means that she hates me,” Caliban said, rolling his eyes and reaching for where his cigarettes used to live. He cursed when he realized they weren’t there.

“Well, she called me the dumbest boy scout in the troupe but she punched Billy in the mouth when he said I was stupid,” Harvey said with a shrug after he thanked the waitress for the new milkshakes. “So maybe calling you a repugnant ass means that she really cares about you but doesn’t want to admit it.” 

Caliban was quiet, seemingly mulling it over. Then, with no warning, he snatched up his new milkshake and angrily started drinking it. 

“But, uh-” Harvey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It felt the moment for asking had passed but he couldn't help himself. “You’re still gonna ask her to prom, right?” The glare Caliban shot at him blew Harvey straight off cloud nine. “It’s just that I really wanna take Brina to prom, you know, and she can’t go if her sister doesn’t and-” 

“If I say that I’ll try, will you stop talking?” Caliban asked. Harvey didn’t want to risk it, so he nodded quickly. “Fine then. I’ll ask.” 

“Seriously? Dude, you are the best friend I’ve ever-” Caliban threw a fry at him and Harvey stifled a laugh. “Okay, okay, no more talking. You got it.” 

Caliban seemed content and went back to glaring at the very messy baby across from him. 

“But, uh, one last thing?” Harvey asked quietly. He held up a napkin that he’d fastened to a straw to show surrender. “A wise man once told me ‘people eat that cute affectionate shit up.’ I think you should keep that in mind?” 

“Is that all, oh wise one?” Caliban asked. Harvey nodded and took a sip of his milkshake. “Fine. I’ll take it under consideration.” 

--- 

Caliban had already made up his mind about fixing things with you, but - now that Nicholas Scratch had found him in the street and started harassing him - he had second thoughts. Not about you (you were a perfect pain in the ass; nothing could change his mind about you) but about the whole situation. He didn’t want to ask you out if it meant Nicholas Scratch could benefit. 

“Come on, man, you’ve gotta do this,” Nicholas said for the millionth time. “You’re the only person that can stomach her.” 

Caliban wondered how many times he’d have to hit Nicholas’ head before it made a dent in his hair gel. His skull seemed more malleable.

“Better yet: You’re the only one that can make her act like a human being,” Nicholas said. He let out a long breath when Caliban’s only response was to glare at him. “Fine. How much is gonna take?” 

“Excuse me?”

“How much money is it gonna take for you to do this?” Nicholas dug his wallet out of his pockets. “You said three hundred a few weeks ago but that was before you knew she's literally Satan incarnate, so I’m guessing you want more?” 

“Listen here, I don’t-” 

“I’ll give you five hundred dollars right now if you agree to take her to prom.” 

Caliban’s resolve faltered. Five hundred dollars was a lot of money. It could really help out with his uncle’s medical bills. Caliban’s jaw tightened as he thought about it. If he was already planning on asking you out, was the added money really that bad? 

Nicholas patted Caliban’s arm as he handed him the money. “Don’t feel bad, man. Everybody’s got a price.” 

---

You spent most of the day after the party being in an even worse mood than you usually were, alternating between throwing up and eating anything and everything that Hilda baked, and Sabrina constantly bubbling over with stories about her and Harvey didn’t help your mood. Seeing as you’d thrown up more than you’d like, you locked yourself in your room until you had to leave for school on Monday. 

You left while Sabrina was still asleep so you didn’t have to listen to her perfect stories about her perfect life on the decidedly not perfect drive to school. With the music turned all the way up and empty streets keeping you company, it was easy to drown out most of your bitterness. Your more-or-less of a good mood soured when you saw Caliban in the parking lot.

He was just as annoyingly good looking as he was at the costume party, just not in the flowy white shirt anymore. Today he was dressed in a yellow ringer shirt with gray accents, his practically permanent leather jacket, beat-up converse, and a pair of irritating black jeans. To top it all off, he didn’t look like he’d spent the weekend throwing up or like he had a pounding headache. The bastard. 

Ordinarily, you would have tried to hit him with your car, but Caliban was already safely inside the school doors by the time your engine had switched back on. After some light profanities, you gathered your things and prepared yourself for yet another mundane day at Baxter High. 

Luckily, everyone must have sensed the thundercloud over your head because they stayed out of your way more than usual. Thanks to the added space, things were actually looking up by the time you got to the library for lunch. 

And then came the first flower. 

“Harvey-” 

He cut through your warning with his winning, boy-next-door smile and set a single red carnation on your table. “Chill. It’s not from me,” Harvey teased. He seemed caught off-guard by your silence. He drummed on the table. “See you around.” 

As if that wasn’t suspicious enough, Harvey disappeared just as quickly as he’d arrived, and you barely had time to pick at the carnation’s edges before the next one showed up. The guy bringing this one was smaller, more unsure, but just as cute as Harvey was. And he had better hair. 

“It’s Theo, right?” you asked, looking up from the red carnation in his hand. 

“You know my name?” Theo asked. Oh man, if messing with Harvey was fun then this adorable kid was going to be something else.

“Only if I’m right.” You reached out to take the carnation from him before he combusted. “Are you going to tell me what all this is about?” 

Theo tilted his head to the side as he took a few steps back. He had some nerve. “Are you gonna beat me up if I don’t?” 

And he was gone before you had a chance to come up with something witty. Clearly, all the alcohol from the party had rotted your brain cells and made you lose your touch, and it was pissing you off. Just like the string of nerds who kept coming up to your table and leaving you with more and more red carnations. 

You’d made up your mind to kick the teeth in of the next person who gave you a flower when a very familiar voice took over the PA system and tv screens. 

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Caliban and I really, really messed things up with a girl.” He was sitting on his usual bench near the soccer fields, squinting slightly in the sun. He scratched his forehead for a moment. How did he hijack the systems? “She won’t take my calls or answer any of my texts, so I had to get creative. Apologies for those of you who really buzz one off to lunch-time announcements but- oh shit.” Then, to the person behind the camera: “Can you follow me?” 

Whoever was behind the camera must have said yes because soon they were both running for the bleachers. Judging by shoes and laughter, the cameraman was Harvey, and - judging by the blurring shots behind them - they were being followed by Hawthorne and the basketball coach. Despite your best attempts not to, you felt yourself smile.

“I’m afraid I have to cut my monologue short and get straight to the embarrassing crap- No, that first bit wasn’t embarrassing, you piece of shit. At least I don’t kiss people on the top of their fucking-” 

The video cut off briefly and when it returned, Caliban and Harvey were running again. 

“We’re back? Great.” Caliban stopped for a moment and turned, grabbing onto the camera and steadying it for a moment. He had bits of gold in his eyes. Asshole. “I’m sorry. Here goes my attempt at making it up to you, princess.” 

Caliban paused briefly, taking a breath, and then launching into a rendition of Frank Sinatra’s I love you. You had to admit, it was pretty impressive how he kept singing despite simultaneously outrunning the authorities chasing him down. But still, you were pissed. A song didn’t change the fact that he- 

Oh, no. Harvey went down. Caliban helped him up but it slowed them down too much and now Hawthorne and the others right on top of them. The camera shut off right after Caliban told you to call him (with an annoying, butterfly inducing wink) and Hawthorne told him to shut up. 

You were laughing before you could stop yourself, and you were still smiling embarrassingly when Sabrina slid into the seat across from you and placed another red carnation on your table. She smiled sweetly and gave you a moment to settle into your familiar scowl. 

“So are you going to forgive him?” Sabrina asked. 

You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair. “Because he gave me some flowers and sang me a song?” 

“Because he got you an entire flower shop and got detention for the rest of the semester,” Sabrina said in her ‘you know I’m right so just listen to me’ voice. If she wasn’t your sister, you might have punched her. 

Still, you considered it. The punching, not the forgiving.

“He didn’t actually say he was sorry,” you said lamely. 

“Sorry for not kissing you after you got drunk out of your mind and threw up on him?” 

No, for leading you on. For being there while you were sloppy and vulnerable and then rejecting you. If that wasn't enough, he rejected you after you spilled your guts to him in that god-awful car of his. 

“Caliban seems like a pretty good guy underneath that leather jacket,” Sabrina said in a more gentle voice as she reached out for your hand. When you didn’t meet her halfway, she settled for picking up one of the carnations and standing up. She walked around the table to stand in front of you. “And, believe it or not-” she tucked the carnation behind your ear and smiled “-I think you deserve a good guy.”

You tightened your jaw and looked at the table. “You just want to go to prom with Harvey.” 

“That too,” Sabrina said with a smaller smile. She patted your shoulder and disappeared into the depths of the library, leaving you alone with your two dozen red carnations and even more staring teens. 

---

After being berated for his lack of respect for authority and blatant abuse of school resources, Caliban was forced through the rest of the school day and locked in a classroom with about fifteen other ‘hoodlums’ and Wardwell. The hoodlums were told to keep to themselves, and Wardwell typed away at her computer. 

As boring as it was, the thought of you chewing out each and every kid he had deliver flowers to you was a comfort. He wondered how you took the broadcast, if you even saw the broadcast. You had to have seen it though, right? It was everywhere. And it was pretty hard to ignore. But if you were still mad at him, you definitely would have left after five seconds. 

Although Caliban still had an allotted hour and twenty-three minutes to wonder if you’d given his little stint the time of day, he was snapped out of his thoughts by the door creaking open behind him. He turned slightly to see you, very awkwardly, making your way up to Wardwell with a red carnation in your hair. 

Caliban smiled.

“Ms. Spellman,” Wardwell said with her usual empty smile. “You’re late.” 

“Oh, no. I don’t have detention,” you said. As Wardwell checked something on her computer, you turned to Caliban and nodded your head towards the window. 

Caliban frowned slightly, tilting his head. Were you organizing a jailbreak for him? Uncharacteristic but charming. 

“Then why are you here?” Wardwell asked, turning her attention back to you. 

“I, uh-” You scratched your head and nodded towards the window again. “I had some questions about the English assignment.” 

“Which are?” 

If it wasn’t so painful watching you blunder through this, Caliban might have actually enjoyed this. Nevertheless, he started sliding out of his seat and heading for the window. 

“Uh, I don’t get why everyone thinks Elizabeth is a jerk for rejecting Darcy the first time,” you said. “I mean, he was just a total ass- jerk. He was a jerk to her and then basically called her an idiot for rejecting him.” 

Wardwell started turning back to the computer - where she would clearly see that Caliban wasn’t where he was supposed to be when you slammed your hands on the desk. Wardwell looked like a deer caught in headlights and Caliban stifled a laugh. 

“But that’s not what I’m here to talk about!” You grabbed Wardwell’s arms and pulled her to her feet. “I’m here because of some really nasty graffiti in the girls’ bathroom. Like really, horrendous stuff. Like, okay, yeah, some of it is quotes about stuff I’ve said to Billy, and I’ll admit that they’re a bit graphic but I didn’t write them on the walls, you know? I just say them-” 

Caliban wasn’t sure how long you kept going on after he snuck out the window, but it certainly took you a long time to meet him in the parking lot. And thanks to him being new and reformed, he couldn’t even smoke to pass the time. 

When you eventually did meet him, you didn't look quite as pissed off as usual but you were definitely still annoyed. You poked Caliban in the chest as you stormed up to him, the flower wobbling slightly as you did. “You owe me,” you told him. “Wardwell made me show her the graffiti in the bathroom and asked which quotes were mine.” 

“It’s not my fault the people find your witticisms endearing,” Caliban said with a smile. You didn’t say anything as you huffed and leaned against the bike rack next to him with a huff. “But thank you for the prison break. It was appreciated.” 

“It better be goddamn appreciated,” you mumbled. 

Caliban laughed and turned to look at you. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t even sure if I could expect you to call me.” 

“I didn’t have a pen,” you said with a shrug, not looking at him. 

"You didn't have a pen?" Caliban asked. 

"I may have deleted your number after calling you a repugnant ass and you responded with 'so you're still thinking about my ass?'" You looked over at him with another shrug. "Not my fault."

Caliban smiled down at you. "No, definitely not."

You clenched your jaw slightly and pressed yourself off the bike rack. “You wanna get out of here before they figure out you’re gone, Sparky?”

Part 6

Tagged:  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​​  @foji2000​​  @hxlalokidottir​  @artaxerxesthegreat​​  @thxmagic​​  @strawberriesandknives​​  @xealia​​  @hotmessindisguise​  @acciomaximoff​  @reheated-coffee​​  @shelby-x​​  @perseny-blog​​  @millie-753​​  @luneerius​​  @shizzybarnaclee​​  @lettherebelovex​​  @throughparisallthroughrome​  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz​  @mariamermaid​  @nqbmf​  @caliban-is-my-girl  @shephard17895​  @music-movies  @andie-kathleen​  @clockworks-world-to-fandoms​  @luquincy  @marina468​  @olivia-west-allen  @drrramaaaqweeen​  @roxytheimmortal​

[ihatecoconut]

to the newsies

“Ok.” Katherine was standing on someone’s bed and waving her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Listen up idiots.”

Jack made an offended noise.

“Not you, Crutchie, you’re an angel and we’re glad you’re here.”

“You know,” Race said, kind of lazily from where he was sprawled out across the floor, “If someone had asked me when I first started remembering you guys who I thought would quote memes, my answer would not have been Kathy.”

There was laughter and agreement. Even Davey, who Race was pretty sure still felt out of place in their group despite having been there in the last century and now, laughed at that and made a comment about how he, personally, would have said Race.

“Are you listening or not?” Katherine demanded, once the noise had died back down,

“Yeah, babe,” Sarah called, “we’re listening.”

Katherine took a moment to smile lovingly down at her girlfriend. “Thank you, now, as I am sure you are all aware it is nearly 120 years since our successful strike!”

Apparently, most of the people in the lodging-house turned boy’s home were not aware of this fact, as the room erupted into shouts and confusion, most of the old newsies cheering at the fact that their impact had lasted that long, while others were just expressing their shock at how long it had been.

“In fact!” Katherine continued over the noise, “It will be exactly 120 years on Saturday!”

“What d’ya wanna do about it, Ace?” Jack called back.

“I think,” she replied at a more normal volume since the room had quietened back down to hear what she had to say, “that we should go on some sort of outing to visit everywhere that was important to us last time.”

“That’s really sweet.” Davey said, sounding a little surprised. “I like it.”

“Thank you.”

“Ok, it’s a fun idea,” Spot objected, “but I’m not walking all the way around New York, and I can’t afford the metro.”

“You used to walk all the way around New York,” someone near the back pointed out,

“And further.” Another voice added.

“I’ll pay for it.” Katherine announced, before Spot could get up and work out who was mocking him- she could see it was the twins from her vantage point but wasn’t about to tell him that- “It’ll be fun!”

There were a few other mumbled complaints, enough people were working Saturday that it was agreed they would move it to Sunday instead, and the group split at their normal time to return home- if they didn’t live at Kloppman’s- with their futures looking happy.

*

“Where do you think Kath’ll take us?” Les asked once they had dropped off those who lived at Denton’s and were continuing back to their own house.

“Newsies Square, to start with,” Sarah said, “I mean that’s the most obvious, right?”

Davey nodded, “I’d say the lodging house but most of them already live there, so maybe some selling spots?”

“That place we used to go for water?” Les suggested,

“Jacobi’s.” Davey provided absent mindedly, “Probably, that was where we kind of met her for the first time.”

“Brooklyn as well,” Sarah suggested, “For Spot and Racer, and because that was where she used to live.”

Davey nodded again, “I’m sure she’s got a plan, you know Kath, she’s organised like that.”

*

“Hey.” Race’s voice came through the phone as soon as Spot hit the answer button.

“Hey yourself, what’s up?” He found himself smiling as he rolled over to look at his boyfriend through the screen- they had only put that label on themselves recently and it still gave Spot an odd floaty feeling whenever he said or thought it.

“Just wanted to talk,” Race replied, grinning back and mirroring his position, lying down with the phone propped up next to him, “what d’ya think of Kath’s idea?”

“I like it.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

Race paused, rubbing his nose like he did when he was nervous- it was a gesture that had replaced putting a cigar in his mouth and chewing it- “Hotshot said you still haven’t been back to Brooklyn.”

“So?”

“Well, Kath’s probably gonna take us to Brooklyn…”

Spot rolled onto his back, careful not to upset how he had positioned his phone, so Race could still see him, “Yeah, I know that.” He snapped, and then winced, not meaning to sound as harsh,

“And you’re ok?” Race prompted gently,

“I am.” He said, a little surprised at how true the word were, “I don’t like going to Brooklyn with Hotshot because I don’t feel like their king anymore and they want me to stay in that position…” He glanced over, seeing Race looking at him with nothing but understanding, “I ain’t him anymore.”

“Who are you then?”

“I’m Spot Conlon, I’m your boyfriend, I’m Denton’s kid, I’m Niamh’s brother, I’m…” He trailed off, about to say that he was a newsie, but that wasn’t quite true anymore.

“A newsie?” Race offered, “Because we still are, even if we don’t sell papes anymore.”

“Yeah, I’m a newsie. And I’m a dancer.”

Race laughed from the other end of the call, “Not as good a dancer as me.”

“Nobody’s as good as you, babe.”

*

“Hey, Jack?”

“What’s up, kid?” Jack asked, shifting over so Albert could fit in next to him.

“Do you think that Kath’s idea is a good one?”

“Yeah, of course, why?”

He shrugged, unhelpfully, “Don’t know. Do you think she’ll take us to the cemetery?”

Jack realised almost immediately what was troubling Albert- there were many cemeteries in New York city, but only one where both of Albert’s mothers (this time and last time) had been buried, Albert himself had been buried there as well, last time. Jack was pretty certain that the only person that had seen it, beside Albert himself of course, was Race.

“Do you want to go to the cemetery?” He asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

There was a pause and then Albert nodded, firmly, “Yes, I do.” He nodded again, red hair flopping about as if he was trying to convince both of them of this fact.

“Ok, then I’ll text her and make sure it’s on her agenda.”

“Thanks, Cowboy.”

“No problem, you gonna sleep here or back in your own bed?”

“Back in my own bed,” Albert replied, looking a little offended that Jack would think he needed that, “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“Sure kid,” Jack laughed, dodging the pillow Albert proceeded to try and hit him with.

“We’re the same age!”

*

Sunday actually dawned bright and clear, despite the weather forecasts suggesting that it would rain all week.

Denton woke up everyone in his household- Hotshot, Smalls, Tommy Boy and Spot who lived there, and Sniper and Race who had stayed over- at just gone eight in the morning, resulting in six grumpy teenagers around the table at nine, fully dressed and eating breakfast.

“Alright,” he said as they were just about to leave, ignoring the way Spot groaned ‘not again’, “New York isn’t the best city ever, stay safe, listen to Katherine, don’t loose your money and keep phones out of the reach of pickpockets, everything clear?”

There was a dull chorus of “Yes Denton.” And he finally released them to make the trek across to Kloppman’s.

The Jacobs were already there when they arrived, making polite conversation with Kloppman, and drinking the coffee he provided, the coffee which Race immediately ran for after taking off his shoes. Kloppman simply shook his head at that- very used to Race’s antics after two lives of dealing with him- and gestured towards the cereal and other breakfast foods.

“We already ate,” Smalls told him, “And we already got a safety briefing from Denton before you do it too.”

Kloppman smiled at her, “I wouldn’t dream of telling you to be safe- Cowboy’d just ignore it anyway.”

As if on cue, Jack came stumbling down the stairs, thankfully fully dressed, and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “I thought I heard people down here.” He said, plopping down at the table and pouring a bowl of cereal, “No Kath yet?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Davey scolded slightly, “And, to answer your question, no we haven’t seen Kath yet.”

“She just texted me,” Sarah said, looking as disgusted as her brother at Jack’s eating habits, “She’s on her way, should be about ten minutes.”

Jack opened his mouth to speak, saw the looks on the twins’ faces, shut it, swallowed and then spoke, “I guess that means we’ve got ten minutes to wake everyone else up.”

Very soon after, the house descended into chaos as those of them who had been awake proceeded to move through the bedrooms, each using their own method to wake those unfortunate souls who were hoping to sleep in. Their unorthodox methods worked, however, and they were all packed into the kitchen when Kath arrived, the girls from Medda’s who had not slept at Denton’s with her.

“Let’s do this!” She announced to the kitchen, waving her list of places to visit, and- as if they had been awake for hours instead of mere minutes- everyone in the kitchen cheered loudly, shoving past each other to grab shoes and bags and anything else they had decided they needed for the day.

Davey had been right, the first stop on Kath’s itemised list was, in fact, Newsies’ Square. It had changed a lot since they had bought papers now, and their school was the building that had once been Pulitzer’s. The yard where Wiesel and the Delanceys had sold the papers was now the open area for the high school, and the buildings around had been modernised, re-painted or simply knocked down and rebuilt. The statue that Jack had climbed on to announce the beginning of their strike wasn’t there anymore, replaced with a small fountain. It was a little disappointing, but as most of them went to school there, they knew what had happened.

“Ey, Jack.” Race called, “Dare you to do your strike speech again.”

Jack waved him off, laughing among the calls for him to do it, and turned to Kath instead, “What’s next?”

Katherine just smiled mysteriously and led the way out. As it turned out, she had somehow managed to work out where each of their selling spots had been- everyone had their own spot in the 1890s, selling spots had been as much a part of newsies politics as their hierarchy within each borough. This part was much more popular than Newsies’ Square, with a few people actually crying when they saw the place they had spent their entire childhood last time. Some spots were almost the same as they had been a century ago, others had been built over and some had been a little destroyed, but they were instantly recognisable.

When they reached Jack, Davey and Les’ selling spot, Kath stopped again and consulted her list.

“We not going to Brooklyn now?” Race asked, “The rest of us sold there.”

“Later,” she reassured him, “I thought we’d do all of Manhattan first.”

“Alright,” Race said, apparently happy with her organisation, “Lead the way.”

*

They stopped at Jacobi’s for lunch, and unlike other parts of their history, this was a place that hadn’t changed- even Jacobi still ran the place, even if he didn’t seem to remember them, and he was as warm, fond, and utterly baffling as he had been before. The food hadn’t changed, even if the prices had adjusted with inflation, and they crowded around a table that wasn’t designed to hold that many people- Les sat under the table as he had always done when they had used it as a meeting house in the past, joined by a few other younger ones- but they made it work, sharing chairs and sitting on each other’s laps.

Davey found himself sitting on Jack’s lap, much to the amusement of his siblings, and managed to keep his blushing under control- they were still navigating their relationship in the 21st Century, it was different to the secret kissing in alleyways that they had done before- and despite being slightly too crowded, a little bit too warm and a little embarrassed, Davey was almost certain that nothing could ever be as perfect as it was just then.

Race danced on the table for them once lunch was finished, accompanied by a few others playing spoons. A few other customers laughed and clapped once they were done, but most of them gave the newsies looks that had them clearing out as soon as Katherine paid the bill, spilling out onto the street and laughingly mocking the lady who had told them they were ‘utterly uncivilized’.

Spot had an arm around Race’s waist in a possessive gesture that he never would have normally done, Jack had grabbed Davey’s hand as they had shoved past the younger ones to get out the door, and he could see others- Blink and Mush, Smalls and Sniper- also moving into gentle couples’ poses. The 21st Century had been good for all of them; there was enough food in their stomachs and they never had to worry about where their next meal was coming from, and they were all more open, more free than they had been when bound to the strict societal positions of the late 19th Century.

“Now,” Katherine said, beaming, “We go to Brooklyn!”

Racer and Hotshot both cheered; Spot didn’t, but his faced creased up into a smile that was very rarely seen, and the group of them followed after Kath.

*

It was nearly six in the evening when they finished, the group of them collapsing onto the grass in Prospect Park, a large tangle of limbs and happiness.

“Hey,” Spot said quietly into Katherine’s ear, having ended up right next to her, “thanks for this.”

She smiled back, “You’re welcome. I thought we might need this.”

He nodded and lay back down on his back, staring up at the clouds which were floating slowly overhead, a contrast to the hectic movement that their day had been.

“Kathy,” Jack said, leaning over Spot and Race, “we’ve still got one more stop, yeah?”

She nodded, “Back in Manhattan, yeah. We’ll rest first.”

Jack nodded in response, ignoring the puzzled looks that Race and Spot gave him, and pointing upwards at one of the clouds Spot had been watching. “That one looks like a fish.”

*

They left the younger ones- middle school and under- at the lodging house before they made their way to the final stop. The chatter from those who were still there died down as they approached the graveyard, nobody asked why they were there- Albert was leading and that gave most of them a good idea of what was happening. Davey and Sarah were confused, but they were polite enough not to ask.

“Trinity Church Cemetery.” Davey read as they went under the archway, still not asking questions, just stating facts.

“Trinity Church Cemetery.” Albert echoed from the front, as he moved through the stones, stepping towards a few small ones near the back. The rest of them followed him, fanning out behind him as he came a stop in front of a small plot of land that housed the DaSilva family- all generations of them, despite the fact that there were only a few marked graves.

He touched a small wooden cross first- obviously weathered and damaged by years of wind and rain- and then traced his fingers over the words on the small stone to the left of it. Race knelt down next to him, one hand sliding around Albert’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.

“His mother.” Jack said quietly, squeezing Davey’s hand unconsciously. “And from this life too.”

Katherine stepped forwards then, a few flowers in hand and placed them on the two graves. Albert smiled, a watery smile, but a smile none the less and they stood as a group until he turned back to the entrance.

“Thank you.” He said once they were back out on the street, “For coming with me.”

“Anything you need.” Davey replied, sliding an arm around him in a similar, but much more paternal way than Race had done. “We’re here for you.”

*

Someone had ordered pizza to the lodging house once they got back, Les and Crutchie had apparently made sure to save some for them, and they dug in with the expected vigour of teenagers who had been walking around all day.

Sarah climbed up onto the bed that Katherine had used only a few days prior to announce her idea and tapped a teaspoon against the coffee mug she was holding. “Attention, please.”

They all turned to her, some still eating, but all listening.

“I want to thank Katherine for taking us out on this trip. I think we all needed it.”

“To Katherine!” Blink shouted, raising his glass, and the rest of the room echoed him, accompanied by the clinking of glasses and mug knocking together.

Sarah climbed back down to sit between her brother and her girlfriend. “To the newsies.”

They both smiled at her, “To the newsies.”

[mobbinholland]

for the night - tom holland

paring: tom x reader

request: none

warnings: smut, degration, praising, daddy, uh i dunno

A/N: hey guys :)) i’m here but anyhoo if this is TRASH i’m so sorry. i hope you guys like it :))

—

it was the biggest party of the year. RDJs new year’s eve party. the whole cast & crew was invited. you were there because he invited you since you were the makeup artist and you left an impression on him. he was amazing on the amazing talent you had at such a young age.

you hopped out the fancy car that came to pick you up and you were in a beautiful burgundy dress. a long v neck slit, and a amazing train following it. you thanked the driver and the man who help you out the car. you walked into the grand house. you smiled as you saw all the people and stars along with amazing decor and lights.

“Y/N!” RDJ tells as he walks up to you. you smiled and the two of you hugged “Robert, it’s amazing! wow!” you told him as you looked around. he thanked you and said “come on! go get a drink! let me take your coat.” he grabbed the fake fur coat off your shoulders and lightly pushed you into the crowd. you smiled at him and he waved goodbye. you found your way to the bar. you asked for your usual. “is that the famous Y/N?!” you heard. you turned around to see another mackie and sebastain stan walk up to you.

“i don’t know about famous but yup. it’s me!” you said pulling each of them into a hug. “you’re here? alone?” sebastain asked you. you took a drink of your drink and nodded “single ol’ me.” you shrugged “that’s not right! go find a handsome bachelor before the night ends! you need a kiss!” anthony protest. you and sebastain both laugh at his comments. “i’ll find a kiss okay!” you tell him. “and if you can’t find one. come to me at 11:58 and i’ll be your kiss.” sebastain tells you. you smile at him. “of course i will.” you winked at him.

sebastain has always been a flirt with you ever since you started working for marvel and doing the avaneger movies. you flirted back but nothing progressed from that. he was very handsome and honestly .... he could get it.

“well i’ll see you around okay! go dance or something!” anthony yells at you. your arms flew up in defense. “i will! geez” you said. both of the boys smiled and gave you a kiss on the cheek. they walked away greeting more people they saw. you turned back to the bar and finished up drinks.

anymore cast & crew memebrts saw you and said hello. until tom came up. “hello Y/N.” he said sitting down next to you with his hand on your lower back. “hey tommy.” you greeted him with a hug. “having fun?” he asked you. you nodded.

the two of you catcher you talking about different roles he had. different movies you were working on. he told you about ‘Cherry’ and how he was going to shave his head. you told him no as you ran your hands through his curly hair. he laughed at you when a slow song came on.

“Come with me ! let’s dance.” he stood up and placed his hand out for you to grab his. “thought you’d never ask!” you grabbed his hand and he led you into the dance floor. he placed his hands where they needed to be. and you two slowly started moving to the music.

“you look beautiful tonight.” he told you. your cheeked turned a little red “thank you tom. and you look very handsome yourself.” and his cheeks also turned red. you placed your head on his chest and the two of you slowly rocked back and fourth. you saw anthony and sebastain looking at you. their eyes wide open since it was tom. you shrugged at them. sebastain winked and you shook your head at him playfully.

“how about we get out of here ?” he whispered to you. you slowly smiled and looked up at him. his eyes darker than before and he licked his lips. “it’s almost midnight, you wanna give me a kiss first or what?” you look up at up with innocence in your eyes. he bit his lip “two minutes darling & then let’s get going.” he said. you nodded and the two of you dance until it was the last 30 seconds where everyone started counting down.

you, tom and everyone else was watching the timer that was displayed and was shouting the numbers as they went down. you felt a hand on your lower back which made you turn and your eyes met with sebastains. “i see you found someone.” he said. you nodded and kissed his cheek “you’ll be the next one.” you winked. he chuckled lowly and said goodbye to go find anthony you guessed.

ten, nine, eight, seven.

you turned to face tom and he as a smirk on his face. he brung his hand up and caressed you’re cheek.

six, five, four.

“three, two, one!” the both of you scream out and laugh. then he smashes his lips into yours. the kiss was deep & passionate. the feeling between your legs getting stronger and stronger. the two of you break apart.

“let’s go baby.” he says. you laughed and you lead him out the grand doors. tom tells the boys to pull up his car and within a few minutes they do. he opens the door for you and you thank him and he spins hops into the front seat speeding away.

the ride was short. Toms hand on your thigh moving up and down. teasing a little. soon enough you pull up to his house. you both get out and tom leads you to the door. he push opens the door and pulls you in and everything went fast. he slammed it and pushed you up against it. you gasp but was cut off with toms lips. his hands roamed your body and yours soon did the same.

“fuck baby you’re so beautiful.” he mumbles while his lips are all over your neck. kissing you up and down. you’re sure leaving bruises. tom lifts you up and you wrap your leg around his torso and carries you into you’re guessing the guess bedroom. he throws you down onto the left and he stands up and admires your body. “fuck.” he says under his breath and he takes off his button up shirt.

“come on daddy. fuck me or something.” you look up at him opening your legs slowly. he bites his lips and flips you so you’re on your stomach. you arch your back a bit. “oh yeah? i’ll fuck you until you see stars darling.” he unzips you’re dress and yanks it down harshly. once he took off the dress and your pretty heels. he smacks your ass hard. “no panties? fucking slut huh?” you cry out and he grabs a fist of your hair. “now are you gonna be good for daddy or are you going to act up?” he whispers in your ear as he rubs your clit. “i-i’ll be good daddy. just please.” you moan out barely. “please what? use your words.” he says speeding up his fingers. “please please fuck me daddy. i’ll be good i promise.” you say heavily breathing. he kisses your ear and let’s go of your hair.

he flips you so you’re back once again. he spreads your legs and he takes off his nice pants that make his thighs look so great. his boxers go with and exposes his hard member. he strokes it a few times before lining it up with youre entrance.

“so wet so nice for daddy.” he says as he pushes in his huge member. you gasp and your back arches off the bed. he slowly increases his speed “look at you, taking daddy’s cock so well baby.” he says as his hand meets your boobs and he pinches your buds hard but you moan because it feels so good.

“fuck daddy.” you breathe out. he is pounding so deep. where your stomach has butterflies everytime he hits the back.

he grabs a fist of your hair and pulls your head up to meet his “you like that huh? you like it when i fill up your tiny little pussy huh? you fucking dirty little whore.” your eyes roll back at his words when you feel the feeling in your stomach get bigger and bigger. “i-i’m gonna. can i please come daddy?” you ask him looking deep into his eyes and his smirk grows bigger and bigger “come for daddy. all over this cock.” and as soon as he finished you released all over. legs shaking and you are breathing heavy. and soon after tom fills you up and finishes in you.

“fuck y/n.” he says pulling you and laying next to you.

“happy new year tommy.”

[hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon]

I feel like the SPN fandom as a whole, especially the fantastic people who make vids, songfics and aesthetics, are missing out on the near-perfection that is The Gaslight Anthem. GA is a rock band from New Jersey, and basically all their songs have this vibe of “I’m a little sad, could kill you, miss when we were younger, and I want to be loud”. I’m also of the belief that a decent amount of their songs fit SPN perfectly.

Examples(I also highly recommend listening to all of these, they’re great):

American Slang(Highly appropriate in my opinion):

“And they cut me to ribbons and taught me to drive, I got my name tattooed inside of my arm. And I called for my father but my father had died! While you told us fortunes, in American Slang”

“And here’s where we died that time last year, and where the angels and devils meet, and you can dance with the Queen if you need, and she will always keep her cards, close to her heart.”

“....and I called for my father but my father had died! And we called for our mothers but our mothers had died, and you told us fortunes in American Slang”  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oAqbnTKQBIY&list=OLAK5uy_np5CJdYInsAeogm56OsGNqLq0j1eBBzaI

Boxer:

“You got your pride and your prose, tucked just like a tommy gun somewhere in the smoke just in case you need it son, I heard it’s been a ride rougher than the last one, what’d you use to say, oh the harder they come”

“You took it all gracefully on the chin, knowing that the beatings had to someday end, we found the bandages inside the band, and the stitches on the radio, and there was something that was holding you down, and there were whispers that were driving you crazy and now you hunt the heart of this town, remember when I knew a boxer baby”

“And your tattooed knuckles oh how they grind down, try to be a man tough just like your father, try to settle down, more like a calm down remember them songs and the reasons we were singing for”

“And he, he says he just doesn’t miss her and he, hey says it’s somewhere in his framework, but I have heard you never really lose it do ya, do ya?”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYMeWEGTOxA&list=OLAK5uy_np5CJdYInsAeogm56OsGNqLq0j1eBBzaI&index=7

Bring It On:

“...Blue eyes and spitfire, I saw you walking back and forth, about another boy, thinking that you may wanna leave, so give me the fevers that just won’t break, and give me the children you don’t wanna raise, and tell me about the Cool, he sings to you those songs, if it’s better than my love, bring it on”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J-ZN7NyPfb4&list=OLAK5uy_np5CJdYInsAeogm56OsGNqLq0j1eBBzaI&index=3

We Did It When We Were Young:

“There are no reasons to believe, I buried my faith in another plot,Where your heart and your claws will not find, And I don't feel you or recall, I put your bones out in the yard, For someone else to be called and caught by” “And I cannot hold a candle for every pretty gun,We were strangers many hours and I missed you for so long, When we were liars, lovers in combat, Faded like your name on those jeans that I burned” “But I am older now, And we did it when we were young, I am older now, And we did it when we were young”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vw8WPJHajEY&list=OLAK5uy_np5CJdYInsAeogm56OsGNqLq0j1eBBzaI&index=10

Old Haunts:

“And all along you knew my story, didn't you? And all night long I carried yours, Your blood was mixed with wine and robbery, baby, And left us always wanting more” “So don't sing me your songs about the good times, Those days are gone and you should just let them go, And god help the man who says "If you'd have known me when..." Old haunts are for forgotten ghosts” “Cherry Bomb, your love is surgery, Removing what you don't regard, And every breath felt like a funeral, baby, While you were packing up your car” “And with the window down, I hear you're tired now, You borrowed everything and wore all your old welcomes out, Well, shame on you, my love, you sold your youth away, Memories for sinking ships that never would be saved”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoDKQT7vXNA&list=OLAK5uy_np5CJdYInsAeogm56OsGNqLq0j1eBBzaI&index=8

The Spirit of Jazz:

“The Cool is dead, baby, go on to sleep, Rest your weary head and love a better me, And in the morning we'll start over again,That's how they do it up on the screen” “Was I good to you, the wife of my youth? Not another soul could love you like my rotten bones do, So I will wait on the edges in between, These New York streets where you and I would meet” “For twenty-nine years we loved that line, And I would take it easy if I had your mind, But I'm a cannonball to a house on fire, And you're slow like Motown soul” “So what now, lover with your long black hair?, If I cut you open, baby, I can repair, Bandage your wounds with the salt on my tongue, And I'm the only one around here”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9KOUAmZ12w&list=OLAK5uy_np5CJdYInsAeogm56OsGNqLq0j1eBBzaI&index=9

Wherefore Art Thou Elvis?(Tell me that this isn’t the Sam Winchester song, I dare you):

“I cut my teeth on the stone of a teenage romance, I was the salt of the earth, I was hard, The last of the independents” “And in the breath from my chest I was blowing kerosene, My lips and fingertips were stone, I wore my heart on my jeans, I sang the blues like the dogs left too long in the street, I still sing the blues with the dogs” “And I got half a mind to let it all burn up in this fire, I've had burning through my veins since I first learned to cry, I'd watch this whole night come down and never miss her again,I never felt right and never fit in walkin' in my own skin” “Now I got scars like the number of stars, My mind's full of vipers, I got the dust of the desert in my bones, Comin' through the amplifiers, And in the minor chord fall and the fourth and the fifth, It's a broken Hallelujah and a pain in my fist, I wash my hands like the man with the blood on his teeth, Over and over without relief” “Walkin' in my old man shoes, with my scientist heart, I got a fever and a beaker and a shot in the dark, I need a Cadillac ride, I need a soft summer night, Say a prayer for my soul, Señorita”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPdCP5f_gmk

High Lonesome:

“And Maria came from Nashville with a suitcase in her hand, I always kinda sorta wished I looked like Elvis, And in my head there's all these classic cars and outlaw cowboy bands, I always kinda sorta wished I was someone else” “There was "Southern Accents" on the radio as I drove home, And at night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet, It's a pretty good song, baby you know the rest Baby, you know the rest”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UErXgvNV3lw

’59 Sound:

“Well I wonder which song they're gonna play when we go, I hope it's something quiet and minor and peaceful and slow, When we float out into the ether into the everlasting arms, I hope we don't hear Marley's chains we forged in life, 'Cause the chains I've been hearin' now for most of my life” “Did you hear the '59 sound, Coming through on Grandmama's radio? Did you hear the rattlin' chains, In the hospital walls? Did you hear the old gospel choir When they came to carry you over?Did you hear your favorite song, One last time?”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zw3w1iKiq8M

Mulholland Drive:

“Did you sleep last night and do you remember dreams? Do I ever cross your mind and do you ever think of me? When you think about your life are there things you would reverse? I still remember holding you, just out of sight of her, In the deep, dark parking lot pressed up against my car, With your hands around my neck I felt the pounding of your heart, And the summer night was giving in to the lure of Autumn’s sway, I can’t seem to forget that night or how I heard you say, ohh and I’d just die if you ever took your love away”

“And I can still recall the hour when you first let down your walls, I thought I might've died right there floating up above it all, But it scared you love, to need someone, so you killed it all instead”

“And did you miss me when I'm gone? And the simple things we used to rely on? Who came to wipe your tears away? Who came to bring back your dignity baby? And who came to drive you around this town, Like I used to drive you all around with the radio on”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eR4-F-P-Y6Q

Film Noir:

“I'm all washed out by the side of the road, Broken bones Matilda left a note and a rose, Sayin', "Baby honey child, I've loved you so long, But you deserve much better than me."” “So I'm just burnin' all around all the miles in the road, And I'm never goin' back and I'm never goin' home, I've been gone too long, I've been less right than wrong, I lost so much blood in the fallin' out” “And I lit a fire that wouldn't go out, Until it consumed the walls and roof of this house, Until all I remember was burnin' away, And all I remember, you burned it away” “See, for ten long years I've been hustlin' around, Tryin' to wash the sins and the sweat from my brow, Just tryin' to find a better life for me and my own, Just some rest for these tired workin' fingers” “But nobody never gonna tell you the way, You gotta figure it out boys and suffer the rain, And the fools in the night and the heat of the day, When all you ever really wanted was for someone to understand”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8KS9Cz1HgVs

She Loves You(this just gives me lowkey Destiel vibes):

“And if all was well, And your heart could find the words, Would we be for better baby, Would we be for worse, And if there was a way, To navigate your seas, If tonight my true love (Dared belong to me)”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WHYY-_3Ft84

Boomboxes and Dictionaries:

“I took a drive today, I thought about you, I thought about a friend who passed And how much we just went through” “I saw the sun shine off the hood of a Cadillac, I thought about some things I said, And some I would take back, I thought about how fortunate I feel to be alive” “And if you're scared of the future tonight, We'll just take it each hour one at a time, It's a pretty good night for a drive, So dry up those eyes, dry up those eyes” “Because the radio will still play loud, Songs that we heard as our guards came down, Like in the summertime when we first met, I'll never forget, and don't you forget, These nights are still ours” “We should remember to slow down more often, And maybe we will, Now here's a lot of good things coming our way right now, A lot of bad has passed, But we survived the breakdowns, All is forgiven, water under bridges now”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9zYLE6Em7U

Drive:

“In my head I am already gone, Side roads boarded up, decisions decided on, But in my nights there are restless hours, When 3 AM comes down and nothing else comes up “And the only thing we know, Is it's getting dark and we'd better go, And the only thing we see, Are the despairs of the day, And if you're too tired, Go to sleep my brothers, I, And if you're too tired, Go to sleep my brothers, I'm all right to drive” “And in my heart I'm the weary kind, I'm much tired to cry, Though it's sad enough for tears, It's been try, fail, try for years, And when the next year comes along, I don't know if I'll be home, I don't know if we'll survive”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClWHlXWSG9M

Biloxi Parrish(This is totally a Cas song):

“I've been fumbling with your heart strings, And that's good enough for me, And if I've rained on one of your hours, Then I know I must been working,Try it on for size my darling, See what a man you can make of me, I will eventually haunt you, And you'll eventually be my queen” “And I'll be with you through,The dark so that you do not, Go through the dark alone, Or on your own” “I've been down Biloxi Parish, And that's all the same for me, I found that nothing truly matters That you cannot find for free, I love you more than can I tell you, When you pass through from this world, I hope you ask to take me with you, Or that I won't have to wait too long, But until then I'll be with you through the dark, Yes, until then I'll be with you through the dark” “And who else can say that about you, baby, Who else can say that about you, now, And who else can take all your blood and your curses, Nobody I seen you hanging around" “And all of our heroes were failures or ghosts, Burned out in brilliant explosions alone, And all of the blood and the sweat that they gave, Well, we took it all and we threw it away”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2RSKSYIXKY

Here Comes My Man:

“And how much time do you think that we have? If I wanted to, I could start over again, Let the good night decide who she wants me to find, And I'll never let you drop another tear in my eye, Singing oh sha-la-la, oh sha-la-la, Listen honey here comes my man”

“So I packed up my things and I faced up my doubts, You know I think I will grow my hair back out, Nevermind what you think, Nevermind what you like, I'll take it out to the streets for somebody else to admire”

“Maybe time will tell you, Why I got so much hell to sell you, Please, please understand me, Oh you can't just dance around me, Maybe your work will love you, When I'm just not there to hold you, Maybe your pride can be your companion, Oh but I just won't be there to stand for it, Not one more minute will I stand for it”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBkfHv6kc5o

Blue Jeans and White T-Shirts:

“We are the boys from Little Eden, We are the heart of Saturday night, We drink from the fountains off the fireworks, Sweat and bone for a better life”

“Still we sing with our heroes, 33 rounds per minute, We're never going home until the sun says we're finished, I'll love you forever if I ever love at all, Wild hearts, blue jeans, & white t-shirts” “Some things baby never told you, Some things papa done ain't right, Spent a lifetime just to get over, You always said my mama tried”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3sQsWuDHrw