#i'm halfway through this thing and that man is the only who has said something smart

[roanniom]

being bold and deciding to make the first move by kissing his rings before you push his hand up your skirt 🤭

Distracted

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

You're a friend of Robin's whose been in his world peripherally for a while. Like you've gone to the same parties and you've hung out at Family Video and seen him when he brought the teens in to see Steve after Hellfire sessions. You've only hung out in groups and your conversations, though extremely flirty, have been pretty surface level.

But you've got a thing for the quirky metalhead. Not only is he a fucking babe, but he also seems genuinely sweet and is very funny. When you bring this up to Robin, however, you aren't prepared for how she lights up, telling you that Eddie's been asking about you, too. Ever the matchmaker, Robin pushes you into a plot that makes it so that you and Eddie end up alone at his place on a Saturday night (initial group plans are bailed on last minute by all the teens who were threatened within an inch of their life not to actually show up).

Eddie seems unfazed by this turn of events and takes it in stride, cracking open a six pack for the two of you to share and throwing on a horror movie.

"If you want to bail, too, that's cool," he lets you know, even as you plop down beside him on the couch, beer in hand. He's got a self-deprecating smile on his face. "I'm sure hanging out alone with the town freak wasn't exactly on your agenda this week."

"Don't presume to know my agenda, Munson," you tsk, feigning a frown that is already curling around the edges into the smile you can't suppress. "You know how type A I am. I won't have you questioning my to-do list."

You apply the innuendo lightly, but the way his eyebrow quirks lets you know that it lands as you'd intended. Eddie runs his tongue over his teeth while appraising you.

"I wouldn't dare get in the way of your efficiency, sweetheart." There's a dare in his eyes, but you lean back against the couch and watch him over the top of your bottle as you take a sip. You've got time.

As the night goes on, the two of you drink and laugh and tease one another. One movie ends and he puts on the sequel immediately. Some slasher where kids are running around screaming in the woods. The two of you discuss what your own strategy would be if you found yourselves in a similar situation. At this point, you're feeling loose and floaty - combination of the alcohol and the sound of Eddie's laughter. It's got bubbles fizzing in your bloodstream. Your bodies have shifted closer on the couch as time has gone on, and as he emphatically describes something, his hand comes down to press onto your knee. Seemingly just as a matter of emphasis and to ground your attention in his point, but you notice that his hand doesn't lift up when he finishes his monologue.

A thrill of possessive pleasure runs through your body at the realization.

"You know, you'd probably die somewhere around the halfway point of the movie," you challenge suddenly and Eddie's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"I'm sorry, princess, but what?!"

"You know because you're all..." you gesture to his body. The denim vest he's still wearing over his band tee even though he's relaxing at home. The tattoos. The heavy rings on the hand that's still resting on your knee. His fingers flex against your skin when you point at them.

"I'm a badass, you mean? What about my badassery makes you think I'm dying at all?"

"The cool guys always die at the midpoint," you argue. "They get distracted having sex with the hot girls and that's when the killer guts them." Exactly as you say this, as if the universe is trying to bolster your argument, a young man on screen is stabbed through the back mid-thrust, falling down bloody upon his shrieking lover. You glance away from the screen and back at Eddie with a satisfied smirk. "Case in point."

"All I got from that is the fact you think I'm cool," Eddie says with a smug smirk. You roll your eyes at him but shift a bit closer.

"I also said you'd die fucking a bimbo."

"No, you said I'd die fucking a hot girl," he corrects, also shifting infinitesimally closer.

"Oh, so you were listening," you tease. Your hand rests on top of his hand on your knee and you start fiddling with his rings.

"Yeah, and I guess that means you should be concerned," he says flippantly, his fingers splaying out on your knee so that yours have more space to move between them. You're now distracted by the attention you're focusing on his hand.

"Why should I be concerned?"

"Because the hot girl getting fucked by the cool guy dies next," he says, nodding his head towards the tv you had all but forgotten about just as a young woman running topless through the woods, her breasts swinging and covered in her dead boyfriend's blood, is cut down by the killer. You both laugh.

"All I got from that is the fact you think I'm hot," you say turning back to him and mimicking his prior comment. His face lights up with a grin.

"Guilty as charged, sweetheart."

The moment feels right. The electricity between the two of you is palpable and you lift his hand up off your knee and towards your lips.

"They only get got, though, because they get distracted," you posit, pressing a kiss to each of Eddie's rings. His eyes are trained on your lips, his own parted to let his suddenly shallow breathing pass through. "Do you think you could keep from getting distracted?"

"Uh...yeah," Eddie says, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "Yeah I'm sure I could stay focused. Vigilant."

"Oh yeah?" you ask, smiling at how he's already so distracted. Suddenly you're lowering his hand and bringing it to the top of your thigh, right at the hem of your skirt. He takes a sharp inhale. "What's that? Losing focus?"

"No. Never, sweetheart," he says with a laugh, though it's shaky. Without even losing a beat his fingers flex in your hand, the pad of his thumb caressing at the skin of your thigh that he's never touched till now.

"What about now?" you ask, abruptly pushing his hand up your skirt to rest on your clothed pussy.

Before you can even process the next heartbeat, Eddie is on you. His mouth is capturing yours in a soul searing kiss and you can't help but gasp into him. Taking in his taste and scent all at the same heady time. Your hand abandons his on your mound and you bring your arms up around his neck to pull him as close to you as possible.

"If I die, I fucking die,” Eddie practically growls against your lips. “Distract me, baby.”

You laugh but he dips his head down to nips at your collar bone and it turns into a moan. Eddie’s hand starts rubbing blindly at your slit through your panties and you find your hips moving against his fingers of their own accord.

“Do horror movies turn you on?” Eddie teases. You bite your lip and shake your head, looking him dead in the eye.

“No, you turn me on, Eddie Munson.”

Suddenly you’re being pushed back down against the couch. The abruptness of his manhandling has you squealing and you lock your arms around his neck, being sure to keep him close and bringing him down with you.

His kiss arrests your lips again, his tongue invading your mouth. It’s everything you ever wanted. It’s what you’d imagined each time you’d watched him from the other side of a party or listened to him joking around with your mutual friends.

All of his attention. All of his focus on you.

What you don’t realize is that it’s always been on you. At those parties and those hang outs, as much as you’d watched him, he’d been watching you. Learned to love your smile and how quick you were to laugh. Catalogued your stories in the back of his mind as you told them to a riveted audience of all the teens.

He’s finally getting to touch you the way he’s always wanted. And it’s working him up faster than he’d like to admit.

You shift on the couch and it gives him more room to slot his body between your opened thighs. When his hard, denim-covered bulge presses against your thigh, your hips buck, pushing up into the palm which has been applying pressure to your pussy.

“Remember that agenda?” You ask with a tremor in your voice. His hand slips under the elastic of your panties, fingers making direct contacted with your slick core for the first time. You both groan.

“Um…yeah.” He says, shaking his head as if to clear it in order to comprehend your words. The tip of a finger circles your clit before sliding down to push into your hole. You gasp. “Your to-do list.”

“You’re at the top,” you gasp out.

There’s a moment where a Eddie doesn’t react. He’s so focused on pumping his finger in and out of your tight pussy, feeling you around him. Watching your chest rise and fall. But when your words make sense he throws back his head and let’s out a bellowing laugh. His laugh makes you laugh and then you’re shaking in one another’s arms. Trying to calm down. The shared vibrations of your joint hysteria seeming to wreak havoc on all of your nerve endings.

Eddie lunges forward and begins sucking at your neck and the tops of your breasts exposed by your low neckline. Just as he adds another finger to your pussy.

“I can be efficient, too, you know,” he says before worrying your skin between his lips.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you be efficient with your shirt off?” You ask, fingers scrabbling at the hem of the garment. Eddie sits up quickly and yanks the shirt off with unnecessary, theatrical aggression, tossing it away as if it’s offended him. You reach out and trace the tattoos on his chest and he moves to lower himself back over you.

“Mmm, cool guy,” you hum, your fingers passing delicately over his inked skin. Eddie quickly unbuttons your blouse and pulls it open, gazing hungry down at your bra-clad breasts.

“Hot girl,” he responds, pressing his face juvenilely between your tits. You grasp at the hair at the back of his neck and laugh until you feel him beginning to suck on you. Then your hips are rolling into his hand. The hand that’s started to fuck you in earnest. “You look like you’re more distracted than me right now, sweetheart. Maybe you’ll be dying before me after all. That petite mort, huh?”

You’re laughing and gasping all at once. His French accent is atrocious but he’s referencing a conversation you’d had with him and Robin about orgasms the week prior. You hadn’t thought he’d been paying attention since he’d been half in argument with Steve at the time, but now you know otherwise.

“You we’re listening to that? Was - fuck - pretty sure you were focused on whatever Harrington was saying.”

“I’m always focused on you, sweetheart.”

You feel heat creeping through your body as fondness mixes with arousal. You’re impatient and you both push and pull at him all at once.

“Ok I just need you to fuck me, ok? Can we jump to that?”

“Nuh uh, I’m making you cum first.” His thumb presses harder circles into your clit and you cry out. But you shake your head dramatically side to side.

“No I want you inside me now.”

“That’s a bit pushy of you, isn’t it?” Eddie teases, but as he does so he eases his fingers out of you and brings them up to lick off your slick. You’re already unbuckling his belt and pushing down his jeans.

“No, I’m efficient. Type A, remember?” His cock springs free of his boxers and you’re ready to drool. He’s practically edible, and if you weren’t so fucking on the edge right now you’d swallow him while immediately.

“How could I forget,” he responds, voice full of gravel as he grabs his cock and pumps one twice. You lay back against the couch, legs splayed and waiting for him, divesting yourself of your bra and cupping your breasts to keep yourself worked up. “Fuck you’re a pretty picture.”

“Gonna just stare or are you gonna do something, Munson?”

“See? Pushy,” he says, even as he lowers himself on top of you and pushes his tip right into your entrance.

The teasing stops as you both come together with rolling hips and gasping breaths. His thrusts are hard and definitive and you find yourself holding on for dear life. He feels so good and right and heavy and strong and you’re so close so soon.

“Eddie…Jesus Christ I’m…” your eyes are squeezed shut and he kisses your eye lids, paradoxically sweet when juxtaposed with the harsh way he’s pounding into you.

“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks, and there’s playful mocking in his tone. If you couldn’t feel his muscles shaking, proving he is equally close, you would have felt more shame.

“Y-yeah…gonna cum.” You admit it on a whine. He feels so good and then suddenly his finger is between you, swirling over your clit again.

“Already? I guess that’s efficient of you,” he says and you clench hard when you laugh, making him let out a loud moan.

“Stop - fuck! You can’t clench like that,” he admonishes.

“Stop making me laugh then, asshole,” you say with no bite. He, however, bites your neck and laves his tongue over the skin.

“Mmmm, you’re sexy when you’re mean.”

You’re not sure what does it - his thrusts, his finger on your clit, his teasing - but one moment you’re rolling your hips into his and the next you’re writhing beneath him, cumming harder than you ever have before. You practically black out calling his name, so much so that you don’t even notice when he cums along right after you.

You come back to your senses to find him still inside you, trailing kisses up and down your throat and chest. You take a deep shuddering breath and grip weakly at his back.

“You gotta get up,” you say, pushing weakly at him with not intent behind the motion. Eddie shakes his head and buries it into your neck.

“Never.”

“I gotta get up and cross you off my checklist.” You tease with a breathless laugh which he returns.

“You can’t. We were so distracted the killer got us. We’re dead, remember?” His grin is so wide one of your trembling hands lifts automatically to trace his dimples.

“Fuck. The downside to being cool and hot is pretty disproportionate to the upside.”

“Speak for yourself,” he snorts, letting his hand come up to cup your jaw. “I’m staring at a pretty big upside.”

~*~

Tiny tag list (will come back later and add more people): @sacklerscumrag @theoncrayjoy @millenialcatlady @xxcatrenxx @cowboy-kylo

[loveindefinitely]

O b s e s s e d with need to listen to me. I can't get it out of my head.

I mostly can't stop thinking of soap who is so disgruntled and moody after the whole ordeal. Just absolutely pent up, so he starts acting out, snapping, talking back, that sort of thing. As promised price extends his punishment and it only breaks soap down more and more until finally he's sobbing and begging price to please do Something.

I have no idea where to go from here I just love the mental image of soap acting out when he doesn't get what he wants, maybe price extends ghost and gaz's punishments as well. Says something like "you can thank him for this" and now they're All huffy and upset.

Reader's the only one who is spared so they take out their frustration on her.

Ok i'm done thank you so much have a good day

-🐭

you are a GENIUS omg. ily. this is sososo canon in this mini poly141 verse.

warning. nsfw drabble (cont. ntltm)

because you're so right. soap would be a total bitch afterwards. needy and pent up and kinda jealous that you two are the only ones that got to get off, even though he put so much effort into eating you out. homeboy is stressed.

cue the next morning, where he's grumpy, whiney and just overall being a frustrating guy to be around.

ghost is in the kitchen, fixing up breakfast in the mess, and soap would just come up behind him, nuzzling his head into his neck and pressing his dick against simon. rutting into him kinda, before ghost shoots him a vicious glare. he backs off.

but then, he sees gaz walking in, and he rushes over to him, pulling him into a deep hug. one that was a bit too much for their usual morning interactions.

that's when you stumble in, weary eyed and still kinda lethargic from last night's ordeal.

and soap's not mad, not really, but he's frustrated that you got the better end of the deal.

so, he pulls you in, hands at your hips, before he's assaulting your mouth with feverish kisses. they're frantic, and you can feel how hard he is where it presses against your stomach. you try and pull away, and when you do, the man huffs like a disgruntled pup.

when it's price who comes in next, soap is pissed off beyond relief.

rising a brow, a challenging one, price would ask how he slept. soap would roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath that would have your eyes blowing wide, a little shocked, a little dismayed.

gaz would blow out a deep exhale, extracting himself from the situation, walking quietly over to ghost. which, for once, would be the safest option out of you four.

and price would narrow his eyes, daring soap to keep up his pissy attitude. soap would, of course, because this man has absolutely ZERO self preservation skills.

he'd then have the nerve to ask if he can bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you. just, openly asking, as if you yourself aren't standing right there.

price would simply tell him that he won't be allowed to stick his dick in anything for the rest of the week.

then, he'd stride over to the other two men without another word, tell them the same thing, and get to work cutting up some spinach.

and you'd be left there, gaping, confused, as soap stands with a similar expression. as if he wasn't fully aware that his actions held consequences, and he really shouldn't have been such a brat after last night.

he'd narrow his eyes at you, snarky, saying something about how you yet again evaded punishment.

say something about how price 'dinnae said nothin' 'bout bendin' ye over, aye?" and he'd forcefully bend you over the table, rutting into your back like a mutt, using your body without inserting anything anywhere.

and, with a moment of clarity, you'd realise that gaz and ghost are watching, with a glint of envy in their eyes.

you'd been in for a long week.

this is absolutely shit btw because halfway through writing this my BED BROKE and i think i may have also broken my toe. so this is coming from a place of pain and distress. great idea tho !! thanks for enjoying my writing mwah mwah

[undiscovered-horizon]

Who am I to complain? - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[emotional and verbal abuse, unhealthy parent-child relationships]

SUMMARY: When your parents come to visit, Nikolai finally understands why you've never been keen to talk about them. Being the King and your husband, he isn't afraid to defy them.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.5k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

"Have you listened to anything I've just said?"

Nikolai shakes you awake from being lost in thought. You look away from the insanely interesting skirting board you had been staring at for the past ten minutes. He’s watching you with raised eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

"I…” you hang your voice. At first, you wanted to just apologize and ask him to repeat himself but then a sense of dread sprouts in your abdomen - one you can’t quite put a finger on but it takes over your entire mind. “I'm sorry, Kolya. Please, don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry,” you plead, gradually speaking faster.

“I’m not angry,” he states firmly. “But I am growing concerned for you, love. What’s going on?”

“I just keep thinking about my parents' visit,” you confess while rubbing your forehead. “Ever since the letter arrived, I can hardly think about anything else."

"Yes, I've noticed you have been a bit absent for the past few days. I assumed you were going to talk to me when you're ready. Are you?"

"They're not bad people," you begin in a strange tone that makes Nikolai doubt your words right away, "and they've only done their best to give me a good life. Despite that, they have a tendency to bring out the parts of me I've grown to dislike." 

“Isn’t that what every family does?” he jokes in hopes of easing your visible discomfort. But his good humour is gone the moment you look away with a sombre expression stuck to your features.

Nikolai always considered himself exceptional at self-control but something about your sadness makes him gradually abandon reason. As you forlornly stare into the darkness of your shared bedroom, he’s ready to stick feathers to his clothes and pretend to be a peacock just to make you laugh.

“Love,” he calls out softly. His hand rests between your shoulder blades. “You’re the queen. If you want, we can call their visit off right away.”

“That would be a little rude, no?” you ask in a meek voice.

“It’s a lot more crude to make you cry.”

“I will be alright, really,” you reassure him. That miserable look on your face is slowly creeping away. “It’s just three days. Maybe they’ve changed or they’re a lot better than I remember. I’ll be okay.”

Nikolai is unsure whether you’re trying to convince yourself or him but he doesn’t push. Despite not believing your clumsy words of reassurance, he trusts you - he’ll step in only when things really get out of hand.

Nervousness and excitement often feel the same and one might even fool themselves into believing that the mortifying tension in their muscles is actually an impatient thrill. Today, however, you don’t even try playing a little trick on yourself. The more you think about your feelings, the more you’re convinced that it’s not even nervousness but fear. Still, you don’t quite understand why exactly your parents’ visit elicits such awful emotions from you.

The door to the throne room opens and a man in a white and gold livery steps inside. He quickly walks halfway to the dais with the throne. 

The servant bows as deep as he can and clears his throat before loudly announcing: “Presenting her most royal Highness’s, the Queen’s, mother and father.”

Only then do your parents emerge from the hall, walking hesitantly through the spacious throne room. Two guards are following them and your father spares them a confused glance every few steps. But the armed men only usher him to keep walking and not turn his back to the king until allowed to do so.

Feeling fear exploding in your chest, you grip Nikolai’s shoulder even tighter. Sitting on the throne, he has to look up to meet your eyes.

“Calm down, it’s going to be alright,” he says quietly. A reassuring smile curves his lips. “You said it yourself.”

As though he is a Heartrender himself, his words make you relax. You take a deep breath and let go of his shoulder. At that moment, Nikolai stands up to greet your parents as their son-in-law first and only then the king of Ravka.

Right then, your mother quickly runs up the few steps leading to the dais. Her face is red and a deep crease now separates her eyebrows.

“I have to wait to be announced to see my own daughter?” She’s barely containing her outrage. “Nonsense!”

“I’m royalty now, mother,” you explain calmly. Your voice almost doesn’t shake.

“And I’m still your mother, the one that gave birth to you. Do I not get any benefits from that?”

Maybe some people don’t actually change.

“I’m afraid you don’t.”

“Is this gold?!” your father exclaims in shock as his hand reaches for your heavy necklace. “So because of you most of Ravka is starving?”

Too occupied with the jewellery, your parents don’t notice the palace guards stepping forward to arrest them for such an accusation aimed at the queen. Nikolai spares them a meaningful look, waving them off. In his heart, he agrees with them.

“Actually, this is a gift from a businessman in Kerch,” you say quietly. Suddenly, you remember why you’ve never visited them since your wedding.

“Still, don’t you think this is a little distasteful?”

Your mother places her hand on your father’s shoulder. “She’s always been vain, darling,” she reminds him.

You’re not a queen anymore - at least you don’t feel like it. All of the gold, silk and jewels are gone and you’re back to being a scared, little girl with hay stuck in her hair. Tears sting your eyes.

Whatever you do is wrong. All of your efforts are underwhelming. Maybe they’d be happier if you weren’t there.

"You're crying?” your father asks with a hint of disgust in his voice. “Oh, don't be so sensitive, you know we’re only joking!” He’s still holding your necklace in his fingers, admiring the glistening crystals. Standing so close to you, he lowers his voice significantly to appear inconspicuous but Nikolai manages to pick up his calloused words. “Pull yourself together, this is embarrassing.”

As she usually does, your mother brings the attention back to herself. “She can be a bit much at times, so I hope you’re a patient one!”

The guards exchange questioning looks, silently asking one another if they should intervene this time. Most of the time they follow Tolya and Tamar’s steps but they’re left to their own devices on this day as Nikolai ordered the twins to take a day off. Perhaps it’s for the best - they’d surely escalate this already uncomfortable situation but it’s only because they care.

“I’d say it’s quite the opposite,” Nikolai answers, unaffected. Despite his speaking to your mother, he’s looking into your eyes. “I can never get enough of her.”

“For most of her life, I thought she’d never get married!” your mother continues. She’s gripping your arm with much more strength than her appearance suggests. “Men don’t like them independent, stubborn and opinionated.”

Nikolai’s polite smile doesn’t falter. “Three qualities of an excellent Queen.”

Your mother laughs obnoxiously. “Just wait a few years, dear.” She pats his shoulder. The guards look between themselves again. “You’ll be quick to send her off just like we were!”

Both of your parents laugh wholeheartedly while you and Nikolai exchange knowing looks. Now he understands why you have been so uneasy lately. This is going to be the longest three days of his life.

The perplexity continues as your mother suddenly places her hands around your waist, examining your torso in great detail. A sour expression forms on her face.

“Oh, honey, you’ve let yourself go,” she says in a worried tone. Her eyes trail the curve of your physique up until she looks at your face. With a serious glint in her eye, she advises you under her breath: “You can’t get fat and slobby if you want to keep the king.” 

The man who announced your parents appears again but this time he walks all the way to the stairs leading up to the throne, although doesn’t dare climb them. His facial expression borders on emotionless and serious as though he’s more of a marble statue rather than a servant.

“Your most royal Highness.” The man bows deeply. “The room is prepared.”

“Excellent.” Nikolai uses the opportunity to cut the awkward conversation short in a diplomatic way. “Escort our guests to their chamber.” 

“Right away, мой царь.”

When the butler disappears around the corner with your parents apprehensively following him, Nikolai looks at you with a grim expression. 

“Are they usually like this?” he asks, disapproval hiding between his words.

“They’re worse at home,” you answer with a shrug. A lot of terrible feelings and thoughts you were convinced you had left behind are coming back and you’re unsure how to handle that.

“You’ve put up with this kind of disrespect for your whole life?”

“It’s not disrespect, just…” you hang your voice looking for the right expression, “tough love. They don’t mean any harm.”

“Don’t mean any harm?” he repeats in disbelief. “They’ve been here for fifteen minutes and they are yet to say something nice to you. Neither of them even asked whether you’re doing alright.”

A short, troubled sigh leaves your lips. Your fingers trail the golden embroidery decorating his kaftan. “I’m married to a dashing, handsome king and live in a palace. I think they know I’m doing well.”

His hand gently grabs yours, keeping it against his chest. “As much I like flattery, especially coming from you, you can’t pull wool over my eyes, love. It’s not a matter of knowing but principle. Remember our wedding? The guests kept asking how you’re doing so much, you kept saying you’re perfectly fine before they even got a chance to ask.”

The memory elicits a chuckle from you. Yes, everyone seemed to be preoccupied with making sure you were happy and satisfied. It came to such a point, you yelled at Nikolai’s cousin ‘Yes, I’m fine!’ before she gave you a weird look and asked if you wanted some vodka mixed with your champagne. Truly, the only royal thing about Marina is her ungodly fortune but maybe that’s why you’ve grown to like her a lot - she’s down to earth and easy-going.

Nikolai squeezes your hand in a gentle, reassuring manner. “Just say the word and I will personally throw them out.”

“Kolya!” You gasp at his offer but it quickly turns into laughter. “They’re my parents and your in-laws!”

“They also refuse to show care and respect towards my beloved Queen.”

That mellow, loving look in his eyes nullifies any annoyance you might feel at his stubbornness. You pull your hand out of his grasp and place it on the side of his face. Consciously or not, he slightly leans into your touch. “I appreciate your concern.” Not minding the guards in the room, you’ve grown used to their constant presence, you peck his lips shortly. “But they have just arrived. You’ll warm up to them.”

Nikolai doesn’t answer at first. He only reconnects your lips, kissing you deeper, more desperately. When you feel his hands coming up to your waist, you lean away from him. For a moment, you swear you can see a grimace of dissatisfaction on his face.

“Be decent,” you reprimand him but the wide smile you wear so well rids your words of all seriousness.

“You started this.”

“And I will finish if you play nice.”

Nikolai takes a rather long step back, away from you,  just to make a point. He’s standing with his hands behind his back, an excited grin on his face. “You make an exquisite diplomat, you know that?”

“I learned from the best.”

The time for dinner came faster than you wanted it to. Anxiety bubbled inside your chest again. Still, you continued trying to soap up your eyes with thoughts that maybe when they sit across the table from a king, they’re going to withdraw their little jabs at you. As they say: Hope is the mother of all fools. And you’re about to learn that.

Nikolai raises his cup with wine. “A toast to our beloved Queen,” he announces in an official tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he spares you an adoring look. “Without her, I’d be a lonely, perplexed king. May we not know the world without her.”

To your horror, your father decides to join him. “May she get a grip and come to her senses.”

The dry wine tastes even more bitter as you take what’s supposed to be a celebratory sip. What if he’s right about you? It’s only the beginning of the evening and you already wish you can miraculously vanish or, worst case scenario, just run away. 

You’re about to take a bite of the roasted pheasant on your plate when your mother looks at you with raised eyebrows. She points her fork between you and the plate. “Should you really be eating all of this?” 

You don’t answer her. Whatever you say will only egg her on. Get a grip, you scold yourself and clench your fist to push fingernails into the sensitive skin of your palm. The pain is distracting, grounding.

 "You know, sweetheart, you're not getting any younger,” your mother continues. She always does that - throwing poignancies one after another and seeing what sticks. Now, when she’s literally the mother of the queen, she’s even bolder than before.

“Mother-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” She points her knife at you. “All I’m saying is as a wife, especially the queen, you have only one duty and you shouldn’t wait with it. Things will only get more difficult as you age.”

Nikolai gives your mother a bright smile. “Have no worries,” he cuts in. “We’re not waiting.”

You almost drop your fork. Flustering people is definitely one of his strategies but must he really involve your sex life in his word games? Although mortified at his bluntness, you must admit it works - your mother’s face is about the same shade as the roasted tomatoes on her plate. She casts her eyes downwards, poking at the food in front of her.

The air is filled with awkward tension but Nikolai doesn’t seem to mind in. In fact, he looks quite proud of himself. You, on the other hand, aren’t as good at putting up a believable front.

“So,” you begin in hopes of easing the atmosphere”, how are things back in…” You hang your voice. You were about to say ‘home’, only to realize that it would be an honest lie. The little town where you grew up hasn’t been home in years. “...Tamboyevka?”

“Oh, you know,” your mother says as she makes a dismissive wave with her hand. “Same old, same old. Cattle and field, nothing interesting to someone of your sort, I presume! There’s never been much use of you anyway.”

Listening to your mother’s condescending words, you push your fingernails further into the skin of your hand to distract yourself from the feeling of shame that continues to grow inside your stomach and pull you down with it. Maybe the marble floor will swallow you whole in the next few minutes and all of this will be over.

Then you feel Nikolai’s warm hand sneak between your palms, breaking up your painful distraction. He leans towards you ever so slightly and whispers:

“I’d much rather you pinch and scratch my hand than hurt yourself.”

You look at his concerned face. Words of reassurance, ‘Don’t worry, I’m alright’, nearly push past your lips when your father chimes in, continuing the conversation.

“But your brother, he bought some land down south,” he announces with excitement.

“More land?” you ask. “Ha barely manages with what he already has.”

The memory of your brother’s tired, grey face flashes before your eyes. Every time you see him, he looks even sicker than before as though he never sleeps or eats, only works in the field. He even collapsed on one July day and your parents kept saying that this is a sign of an honest, hard-working man but you weren’t as quick to call a man throwing up everything he eats ‘healthy’.

“You know how he is, always helping others.” Your mother is beaming with pride as if she’s the one doing the farming. “His crops feed two villages and it’s not nearly enough for him! Said he wanted tomatoes and citruses.”

Then it hits you. It’s not a revelation in any way but rather something you don’t think about too often - most of Ravka doesn’t get fruits in winter, especially the ones growing in warmer climates near the Shu Han border. And you not only can easily get it even when snow covers the grassy fields but you’re essentially fed it. Like that one time, you shared a tangerine with Nikolai while sitting in front of a fire, talking about unimportant things.

Despite your mother sitting right in front of you, her voice echoed in your head as though she’s a phantom haunting your thoughts and not a real person: Selfish. Spoiled. Entitled. Ungrateful. People starve because of you.

You focus on Nikolai’s warm, rough hand that’s still holding your own. The pleasant sensation is gradually grounding you, pulling you out of your head and into the present moment.

“What for?” you ask as casually as you can, not giving in to the spiralling thoughts. It still feels like you’re underwater, desperately gasping for air as your lungs burn. Squeezing Nikolai’s hand, you break the surface of the vicious tides trying to drown you in panic and shame.

Your mother, on the other hand, appears completely oblivious to your plight. “Some child told him they’d like oranges and he couldn’t say no. He’s wonderful, truly. A living Saint! What a blessing to call him my son. You should take a serious cue from him, young lady.” She waves the tip of her knife in your direction again. “But enough about your brother. What do you do when you’re not wasting time? Lay around and smell nice?”

“Well,” you swallow nervously, already knowing that she won’t be satisfied with your answer, “I meet a lot of people, take correspondence, travel across the country or read if I find the time.”

Nikolai must notice the telling crease of disappointment between your mother’s eyebrows. He joins the conversation under a skilful facade of a proud, boasting husband. “Don’t sell yourself short, love. Our Queen,” he puts strange stress on the title, “has started a scholarship for disadvantaged children, takes the time to teach young girls sewing, foreign languages and arithmetic.”

“That’s quite useless, isn’t it?” your mother looks between you and your father, not acknowledging Nikolai’s presence. She keeps stabbing the roasted pheasant on her plate with a fork as though there’s still life inside the poor poultry. “Shouldn’t you try harder?” she hisses at you. “If you continue being this lazy, the whole kingdom will fall apart! What will our neighbours say then?”

Nikolai suddenly gets up. He’s still holding your hand but you can’t be sure whether he’s doing that on purpose or if it’s just an unconscious reflex. The candlelight from the crystal chandelier cascades off his face, pronouncing the clenched muscles of his jaw - he’s angry and barely holding it in.

“Our meeting at this table is adjourned,” he announces in a firm voice. “This is beyond unacceptable. I have overlooked your transgressions simply because of your affinity to my wife. Still, I am disheartened and disappointed with the way you address your queen in her own home. The guards will escort you back to your chambers.”

You hear your mother and father trying to argue and protest, saying something about you being ‘too proud’ and ‘forgetting your place’ but you’re so dumbfounded you can’t make out the details. The guards lead them out of the dining room through one of the tall pairs of doors. When they close behind them, everything goes silent - the brick walls muffle any turmoil your parents might be causing.

Suddenly, your throat constricts. It’s hard to take a breath. Has it always been so hot in here? The tips of your fingers tingle, blood never reaching them.

He threw them out and you didn’t say anything. If they didn’t hate you before, they surely do now. You’re a disappointment, not their child. They haven’t done anything wrong, after all. You’re no good, useless, ungrateful, dramatic.

Suffocating with panic, you run out of the room through a different pair of doors, across the dining hall from the ones behind which your parents had recently disappeared. You hear Nikolai’s footsteps behind you but they are muffled by the noise of bloodflow ringing in your ears.

“Hey, talk to me,” he calls out in a soft voice. You turn around to look at him. His hand is almost at the height of your shoulder but it momentarily drops as though he just backed out from touching you. “What’s going on?”

For a man as smart as him, that’s a really stupid question.

“Why did you do that, Nikolai?” you snap at him.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. A gasp of disbelief brushes past his lips - he clearly thought the two of you were on the same page. “They were insulting you over and over again. I couldn’t just sit and listen to that.”

Truly, you should have expected that. He’s been adamant about standing up to your parents from the very beginning. Still, you’re angry that he just had to be stubborn and do the one thing you explicitly asked him not to do.

“What happened to laugh at insults? Isn’t that your own advice?”

“It is.” Nikolai finally finds it in himself to place his hands on your shoulders. “But I found myself unable to remain collected when the bitter words were aimed at you.” His palms brush against your dress and the skin of your neck until they’re cradling your face.

“I can,” you state firmly. “You should have let me handle this, I’m used to this.”

You escape his loving grasp and he lets you. Walking forward away from him, you’re not quite sure where exactly you’re heading. ‘Away’ would be a lovely direction but quite impossible when you’re confined to those four walls of marble and gold.

“You shouldn’t be,” Nikolai calls out after you.

Suddenly, you halt. You look at him around your shoulder. “What?”

“You shouldn’t be used to being treated like this,” he says in a defeated tone while walking towards you again. “They just keep putting you down, humiliating you. You’re not even slightly upset about that?”

“Of course, I am but…” you hang your voice, finally questioning your own feelings towards your parents. “It’s unfair for me to be angry with them. Ungrateful. I never went hungry or cold. They gave me medication when I was sick and made sure I went to school. Every year they’d give me something for my birthday. Neither of them has ever raised their hand against me. They’ve done all they could to give me a good life. Who am I to complain?”

“You’re the Queen,” he drones the word. His hand holds the side of your face again, thumb lovingly brushing your cheek. “People say your name in the same breath as the names of all the Saints. When I don’t know what to do or what decision to make, I always ask myself what you would do. And I’ve never once regretted that. There are important people who have agreed to my invitation only after hearing that you’ll be there too. You change everything. So you get to be angry when someone refuses to see that. I know you can take a few mean words but I don’t want you to.”

For a moment, the two of you stand in comfortable, intimate silence. Your absent gaze is stuck to the floor as you’re pondering his words. Whenever you’re about to accept that maybe, just maybe, you’re doing something good and important, the voice of your mother echoes inside your head: ‘Vain’. But Nikolai wouldn’t lie to you, would he? At least not in those circumstances.

“Can you keep a secret?” he speaks up quietly, bringing your attention back to him.

“Don’t tell me you put a wild racoon in my parent’s bedroom,” you joke, surprising yourself at your newly-found humour.

He scrunches his nose. “Alright, can you keep two secrets?” The echo of the empty halls carries your bright laughter. “To be honest, I wanted to marry you the moment you argued with me about stealing that merchant frigate in Kerch.”

“I could tell,” you answer with a slow nod. “You had a really stupid look on your face, all dazed and absent. In fact, you wore the same one on our wedding day.”

Nikolai’s lips turn into a playful smile and he’s about to say something definitely smart and smooth but a servant interrupts him:

“Your most royal highness,” she says nervously as she curtsies, “your mother wishes to see you. She seems thoroughly upset, if I may say so.” Judging by her fearful, wide-open eyes, she must have gotten a taste of your parents' hurt ego.

Anxiety once again floods your mind. Maybe you should go, apologize and pray they won’t go on a tirade about ‘raising you differently’. But then you hear Nikolai inconspicuously but meaningfully clear his throat.

‘You’re the queen’, his voice echoes in your head. A queen doesn’t cower and bow her head, does she?

“Tell her I don’t take visitations tonight,” you order the servant.

“Right away, моя царица.” She can’t hide the waver in her voice. Judging by her already fearful demeanour, she can guess quite well what will happen the moment she relays the information.

Yes, you will have to warn your parents that they actually can’t hurl insults at your servants. It’s going to be challenging, yes, but this newfound confidence is a ferocious beast, driving you to own up to the title of the queen - not in the way your mother and father want you to but in a way that you need to.

“Oh, one more thing.” The girl immediately stops and turns around at the sound of your voice. “Make sure they don’t leave their wing until either of us says so. I don’t want them wandering around my home.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

The servant bows again and leaves the two of you in a rushed step. Nikolai waits until she disappears around the corner to let his hand drop to the small of your back. He leans in close, indecently so. “I love it when you get all commanding,” he whispers against your neck.

An airy laugh leaves your lips as he pecks the soft skin behind your ear.

____

мой царь [mo-ee tzar] -> my tsar/king

моя царица [mo-ya tsa-ree-tsa] -> my tsaritsa/queen

[royboyfanpage]

Okay a post by @mew-poo got me thinking about Titans (1999) #15-#16 again, and I think I noticed something. This may be absolute bs, I haven't slept in two days so I might be doing analysis that doesn't exist, but-

I think Roy is the only one of the fab five who doesn't hold grudges.

Essentially the comics, particularly #15, focus on the fab five being stranded on an island with Gargoyle, who is bringing their personal resentments and grudges to light, causing a lot of tensions between the team. But one thing I've noticed is that the different arguments Roy makes are rarely centred around anything that happened between him and the others off the island. The main issues for him are-

-the current situation, or-

-regarding Lian. Comparatively, the things that the others say to him, such as Garth bringing up his addiction arguably unnecessarily-

-Donna suggesting that Roy's stupid for thinking their relationship will last (and later insulting him for leaving after she said that)-

-and Dick questioning his commitment to the Titans (which I won't post a panel of due to Tumblr photo limit, so imagine it's here), it's clear to see a difference. Despite being on an island intended to highten negative emotions, Roy never actually brings up anything anyone's done in the past (at least not yet) unless he's actively prompted to by someone else, like his defending himself from Dick's criticism-

-and the only time he really brings anything up without a prompt (prior to the end) is STILL in reference to something that was said to him on the island as opposed to years ago.

I think that makes a lot of sense for Roy as a character. He's a very practical man, and so it makes sense that he wouldn't dwell on old grudges compared to current issues he's faced with. It could also, at least partially, explain why it takes Roy so long to recognise that Garth is mad at his teasing. Roy reacts strongly in the moment to issues in his life and relationships rather than letting them brew (at least this era of Roy does, his reactions were different in the Snowbirds era), which may make it harder for him to see that someone *is* harbouring a grudge against him that they haven't acted on- that's just not how his brain works.

And then, there's the moment where Roy does snap.

I don't think that Roy's dialogue here stems from a grudge, and it's not based in negativity. As mentioned earlier in the comic, Gargoyle thrives on negativity, that was what was keeping them in purgatory. However, Roy's rant and punch was what managed to free them. It's not based in bitterness but rather... I guess violently constructive criticism? Roy doesn't like seeing Dick stuck in Bruce's shadow, and his tirade is based in concern for Dick more than anything, a wake-up call. And anything similar to bitterness in this is rather based on the double standards towards Dick- everyone has to walk on eggshells around Dick's issues, whereas Roy's issues are constantly brought up (Roy's addiction is mentioned in almost every comic with him I've read). He's angry that his friends will step in and give *him* a wakeup call, but they let Dick spiral without stepping in.

Anyway I'm very tired and forgot my point halfway through writing this, so do with this as you will and reinterpretations are more than welcome.

[possessionisamyth]

Look, listen to me, come closer. Nope, too close, take one step back. Okay, thank you. Now open your ears and hear what I'm saying.

Whole Cake but sanuso, BUT Sanji has fully transitioned via Ivankov and her poster has not been changed from the bad drawing yet. This means when they go to pick up Sanji, the disowned son, they are meeting Sanji the trans woman who cannot marry another woman ala Pudding. Not because of the gay thing, but because Charlotte Linlin expects babies from all her married kids.

Hold on, I'm not done. There's more, but it's below the cut cause I'm nice.

Okay so clown 1 and clown 2 arrive with their convincing arguments or alternative threats ready to go only to see Sanji and immediately call Judge so they can check. Is this the right person? Judge said a son didn't he?

Vito: "You have two daughters?"

Judge: "No. One daughter."

Vito: "There is a woman here calling herself Sanji."

Judge: "Sanji is my bastard son. He has the same eyebrows as the others, and he's blonde."

Both of the retrievers look at Sanji who fits the bill except for being a pissed off looking woman.

Vito: "Uh, you know what. We'll just bring 'Sanji' to you and you can make your best judgement."

Judge: "You'd better."

Sanji arrives. Reiju is doing her absolute best to remain appearing emotionless, but the giggles are being held at bay by a thread because this was the best possible way to get out of this marriage. Sanji the escape artist wins again in her eyes. The tri color brothers? They immediately start laying on the mockery and sexist comments of which Sanji is Not A Fan, but they threatened Zeff, and she needs to see how this is going to play out before doing anything. Judge? Absolutely pissed. He cannot give any of his other sons to Charlotte Linlin because they have actual value in his eyes. He was supposed to be giving the trash away, and the one thing Linlin needs out of any marriage deal is grandchildren. Grandchildren Sanji cannot provide with the one kid Linlin planned to give up ala Pudding.

Judge will either have to figure out a magical de-transition method that is instant (not possible in the time they have left). Give up one of his valuable sons (extremely not wanted). Or lie about Sanji's gender and go through the deal hoping they can get out unscathed until this is "fixed".

They opt to lie. Sanji who kept her hair short, only because longer hair was too much of a hassle in the kitchen, doesn't even have the option to be dysphoric due to the lengths the Vinsmokes are going through to pass her off as a man. Like. It's extremely pathetic. It's sad. It's one of Usopp's "I can't do X disease" level of awful and bad except Usopp's little lies were at least coming from someone cute.

They put a fake beard on her. Reiju is responsible for her make up. Clothes are tailored to hide the obvious curves. Sanji is making every step of this process as difficult as possible. There's nothing no one can do about her voice, though it's only slightly pitched up from before her transition. They tell her not to talk and slap the exploding handcuffs on her to make sure she doesn't. They say she's half mute or something, and Linlin says something like husbands are best seen and not heard. They buy it. They fucking buy it. Sanji isn't sure who's more stupid, the Vinsmokes for putting her through this fluke, or the Charlottes because they fall for it hook line and sinker. Her beard starts to fall off halfway through a meal and they rush her back to her room.

There are multiple mishaps where she's almost "caught", and her brothers are annoyed because they have to put in effort to cover for her unless they want to be auctioned off. Reiju is putting in a lot less effort to cover for her. But Sanji is tired. She is angry. She wants to go home. The fake beard is itchy. The clothes aren't her style. She misses her cute stilettos that Usopp lovingly sharpened the heels on. She is getting some entertainment from making trouble by nearly exposing her 'secret', but it does nothing to ease her worry of the ticking time clock to this farce of a wedding.

Pudding is nice at least. A little touchy, but nice. Sanji is so tempted to compliment the young girl, but the bracelets around her wrists are a very cold reminder not to.

Usually I have more to write where I go over the whole arc with this kind of headcanon, but I don't. Have some snippet ideas.

Usopp yelling out, "What did they do to my babygirl!" in earshot and Sanji giving him the wettest most pathetic sad cat eyes because she loves when Usopp calls her that and she wants TO LEAVE.

Sanji revealing her gender at the altar, and Pudding having a lesbian awakening.

Sanji actually taunting her brothers with a reversal of the sexist commentary they were throwing at her and then saving them.

Hearing multiple Charlotte kids question why Judge lied about having another son, and that they would've accepted a daughter to marry into the family. Some even say a daughter offering might've even prevented the whole assassination attempt thing.

Usopp gently putting Sanji's spiky stilettos on her feet like Cinderella and her prince, and she gets a horrible nosebleed. This happens moments before she's being dragged off to remake the wedding cake.

Pudding is still having the split genuine thirst and fake angry reactions to Sanji where she's just like (thumbs up emoji) in response.

Multiple cut scene styled flashbacks where random Charlotte kids realize Sanji was very obviously a woman, and they'd been too stupid in the moment to pay real attention to her slip ups.

Injured Sanji giving the double middle finger to the Vinsmokes as they part ways.

Luffy seriously asking Sanji why they didn't put her in a wedding dress. Were they too stupid to see she's a girl? He could tell it was really obvious so why didn't they?

Sanji in an irritated voice explaining to Luffy what they put her through, and then placing her hands on her blushing cheeks as she explains she only wants to wear a wedding dress once. She pointedly looks at Usopp and flutters her lashes. Usopp gets all bashful and smiley and starts a whole spiel about how if they got married it'd be way grander than what the Charlottes could come up with. Sanji is swooning. Nami is moments from throwing them both overboard for being way too mushy.

You got that right? Okay, good. Have a nice evening!

[winterlynightlystories]

Welcome to Hawkins

Tw; swearing, mention of child abuse, mention of injuries.

To not steal my work, thank you!

Billy Hargrove/Male reader (he/him)

Summary; you find Billy on the side of the road, bloody and angry. The worse part? You are not alone in the dark.

~~~

Hawkins was a weird place. Even before the Byers boy went missing, the town faced strange things. Electrical anomalies, weird sightings in the forest and sometimes animals would meet a gruesome end. By now you were used to it.

Until the Hargrove came to town.

Hawkins was a small place where everybody knew everyone. There was no secret, not even inside your home. Even if you went in the middle of the wood, by morning the whole town would be aware of what you did. So it was no surprise they were met with mistrust.

Because it only took one look for everyone to agree; there was something wrong with them all. Especially with the father, you thought. With the way, he spoke to his son and how Billy would sometime flinch when his father moved his hands. It was obvious that something was going on.

And then they all met Billy Hargrove at school. Violent, racist, and always ready to fight. He tried so hard to be the king of the school, it was almost pathetic. But he was good to party with, you heard.

For your part, you disliked him. Billy and you would always fight; in the corridors, after school or even during sports class. Sometimes he would win, but most of the time? You would show no mercy and beat the shit out of him.

You weren't violent, some would even call you peaceful. But peaceful doesn't mean harmless and you refused to let Billy Hargrove do as he pleased.

You also pitied him.

No one was blind to the bruised he would try to play off as accidents or results of fights that never happened. Or how he would flinch, even so slightly when someone accidentally slammed a door or dropped something heavy. Or the fear his eyes would hold for a second when someone would throw a ball of paper and it would pass close to his head.

It broke your heart.

And there was nothing you could do.

That night as you drove, the forest on each side of the road, you kept thinking about the Hargrove boy. You wondered what kind of person he really was underneath all those masks he wore to protect himself.

Halfway through the forest, something caught your attention. At first, you thought it was a dead animal, maybe a deer. But then, it moved.

- “Shit!” you cursed, hitting the brake. “Hargrove? What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked, getting out of your car.

Because sitting on the side of the road was the one and only Billy Hargrove. Hair messy and bloody lips, Billy seemed to come out of a fight as the loser. But something was terribly wrong; his eyes were red and puffy and wet as if he has cried.

- “Fuck off man.” Billy snapped, looking away.

- “Seriously?” you sighed “C’mon city boy, I'm driving you home.” you added, eyes turning to the forest.

- “I said, fuck off! Or are you deaf?” replied Hargrove, making you grunt.

- “Oh, shut up. You think I'm leaving you here to be eaten by a bear?”

- “There aren't any bears in Hawkins.” objected Billy, scuffing.

- “Ah yes! I forgot it was my imaginary friend Steve who killed those animals!” you replied sarcastically. “Now you either get in the car by yourself like the good boy you are, or I'll get you in.”

- “Fuck. You.” slowly said Billy, smiling. “Anyway, why do you care so much? We are not friends or anything.”

- “Because there is no way I am leaving you here in the middle of the night!” you snapped, approaching him.

- “Wait, wait, wait! Don't tell me you are scared?” mocked Billy. “Seriously? Scared of the dark, Y/n?”

- “No, not the dark, but of what's hiding in it,” you said, seriously, stopping in front of Billy.

Billy was about to reply something when you heard the eeriest scream coming from the forest. You both froze, staring into the darkness. There was no sound, not even a cricket, or wind. It felt just wrong. Like a second before the disaster. And you felt watched like a prey being stalked.

- “Hargrove, get in the car.” you said, voice shaking as you saw a large shadow move between the tree. “NOW!”

You grabbed him by the collar and turned on your heels. Without another word, you two ran as another scream came from the forest, closer this time.

You barely closed the door before turning the engine on and driving away as fast as you could.

- “What the fuck was that?” asked Billy, looking behind. “That wasn't a bear!”

- “I don't know! I don't fucking know, man!” you replied, still freaking out. “It was too skinny to be a bear. Maybe a sick deer.”

- “Bitch, are you serious? Deer don't stand on their back legs!”

You didn't have the time to reply to anything, spotting the shadow on your left. In the dark, you could not really distinguish anything, but you could swear it was now running on four.

- “I don't want to sound dramatic, but I think it's following us.” you said.

- “How...”

Billy never finished his sentence. Instead, you both screamed when a tall shadow jumped in front of the car as you hit the brakes.

Standing on its back legs, the creature had smooth skin, almost like an eel” you thought. But darker. Like charcoal or shadows. And its head was like a flower.

You almost screamed again, feeling Billy gripping your arms and digging his nails into your skin.

- “What the fuck. Man, what the fuck is that?” he asked, his voice a mumbling mess.

- “Don't ask me! I don't know!” you whined, hands shaking on the wheel. “Man, I can't do a U-turn and there is no way I can drive in reverse in the dark.”

- “Then just run over it! Do something!”

And you did just that.

Pushing your car as fast as it could toward the creature. Maybe it knew what you were trying to do, or maybe it got scared, but seconds before the impact, the creature jumped out of your way. You sighed in relief but didn't slow down.

You heard Billy’s breath slow down before you felt his forehead on your shoulder. If he was crying, you saw nothing, because God be your witness, you were too. Not letting go of your arm, Billy actually tightened his grip.

- “Tell me it's gone. Please tell me it's gone.” he begged with a small voice.

- “Yeah, I don't see it anymore,” you replied.

- “I don't think I can go party anymore.”,” said Billy.

- “Yeah. Welcome to Hawkins.” you scoffed. “So, mind guiding me to your place?”

- “I'll rather not” he whispered.

- “Mind if I take you to mine then? I'll give you some of my shit and will take care of those bruised. I know where my parents hid their alcohol. God, I need a drink!”

- “As long as you share that drink, that sounds good to me. But I'm taking the bed!”

- “Fine princess!”

Billy said nothing and you relaxed. Heart still racing in your chest, you wondered of it was that thing who was responsible for the latest slaughter in the nearby farms. Or killed those missing outsiders. A part of you also knew you needed to call the sheriff, but the other knew it was useless. No one would believe you and you didn't want to put Billy in more danger.

So to your home, it was.

[felice-jaganshi]

My Fallen Apple

Lucifer X Reader

Chapter 2

You end up staying in hell a bit longer. Wanting to get to know the real Lucifer better, even against his own pleading! He didn't want you to see how bad his kingdom really was, but you didn't care.

You wandered the halls of his palace and stopped in front of a painting. It had three very beautiful blondes in it. One was Lucifer himself, the other you guessed was his wife, a very beautiful demon of some kind given the horns. But who was the younger girl then?

 

“Who is that?” You asked, and he looked sad and sighed.

 

“My wife and daughter. Lilith and Charlie.” You look over at him, noticing the longing in his gaze.

 

“You said before she's been gone for seven years? What about your daughter?” You regret your words when more pain crosses his face. But he immediately tries to hide it with the fakest, biggest grin you've ever seen.

 

“Oh, hah! Char char is too busy to spend time with her old man these days! Busy with an important passion project of hers! I'm so proud of her.” The forced cheer was replaced with a note of something genuine in that last sentence. So you picked up that he did love his daughter, genuinely. But there seemed to be distance between them… you kept yourself from asking, you'd made him cry enough for one day.

 

“Well, do you have a passion project? Something that keeps you busy?” His eyes lit up genuinely, and it was breathtaking.

 

“Do you like ducks?” …

 

“I'm.. sorry?” You weren't sure you heard right. Did he really just say, “did you say Ducks?” He blushed and looked away.

 

“I uh, take that as a no then.”

 

“No! I mean, I do! I just wanted to make sure I heard you right. I think they're cute!” You couldn't bear hurting him again, you'd say anything to get that sparkle back! He looked back at you, a glimmer of hope hidden behind embarrassment. 

 

“Really?” You nod vigorously!

“Really!” He smiles softly and holds out a hand.

 

“Then come with me. I'll show you my workshop.”

 

You take his hand, it's warm and comforting, fitting nicely into your own. He leads the way down a few halls before stopping in front of the door and unlocking it.

 

“No one's been in here with me since… Well, you're the first in a long while.” Suddenly, you feel a bit nervous. This feels… intimate in a way. A side of Lucifer possibly only seen by his wife and daughter. And now you, too.

 

He opened the door, and you're immediately overwhelmed by the color yellow! He confidently walks in and you follow close behind. You've never seen so many rubber ducks in all your life! Or death for that matter.

“I… so many…” You pick one up that has a tophat and cane, and it does a little dance in your hands. Lucifer watches, holding his breath to see your reaction. You smile wide and laugh, “oh my god, that's so cute!” He lets out his breath in one loud go, he's more relieved than you can imagine. He then puts on a more genuine grin.

 

“Well! Then you're gonna love the rest of my collection, they all do crazy shit! Oh, uh, avoid that pile over there though, those one breath fire and have knives and other dangerous things.” He pointed to the far corner. You make a note to avoid those ones and the two of you spend the next hour going over all the ducks he's made…

Except by the time you're halfway through one pile, you realize it's been way longer than an hour! The sun has set and the stars are coming out. 

“Oh fuck, how long have I been here?! Everyone's gonna panic! I gotta get home to my friends.” Lucifer's face drops as you say this.

 

“O-oh… right, you don't belong here. You have a family to get back to… don't you?” He then tries to cheer up, “well hey, thanks for making my day! It's genuinely been the best one I've had in… a- a while.” You look at this sad little duck loving angel, how could heaven ever get rid of such a cutie?!

 

“I'll come back.” His face lights up with shock.

 

“Wha-”

 

“If you'll allow it, I'll sneak out and come visit once a week. We can organize the ducks and have lunch.” He looks at you like you're the answer to his prayers.

And hey, maybe prayers do make it out of hell after all…

 

“Yes! Please do! I'd- I'd love that! Oh wait, here!” He dove into a pile of ducks, digging around in the squeaking pile for a full minute before emerging with a single green duck with a turtle shell on its back. “For you. It's not perfect but…” You take it with a smile and hug him tight.

 

“It IS perfect. Just like you… thank you for such a fun day Lucifer. I'll see you in a week.”

He hugs back, and blushes. A week was going to feel like an eternity of waiting for both of you… 

 

But, leave you must. He gives you his phone number and helps you get back up to heaven. Once there, you text all your friends that you're fine, and say you just spent the day alone at home because Adam was an asshole when being rejected, and you needed alone time afterwards. You hoped everyone would believe you and that he didn't tell anyone about what happened. 

 

If they found out you spent the day in hell… Well, there'd definitely be consequences. Like not seeing Lucifer again! And you couldn't have that.

[rachetmath]

Ruby: Hey Jaune where are you going?

Jaune: Well Ruby I was asking around town to see if I could find a teacher.

Ruby: A teacher? Why were you looking for a teacher?

Jaune: To train with.

Ruby: Jaune come on. You're fine. You don't need a teacher.

Jaune: Okay but I need a break.

Ruby: From what?

Jaune: Woman after the emotional rollercoaster we had. I need to figure some stuff out.

Ruby: You can figure it out with us.

Jaune: No.

Ruby: Why not?!

Jaune: This is something I need to do alone. I can't be worrying about you and have you cuddling me all the time.

Ruby: We need you though.

Jaune: You have your team and my team. Which I’m not apart of no more. What do you need me for?

Ruby: Healing.

Jaune: Ruby, for how long we've spent together, no one has gotten injured that badly.

Ruby: Nora-

Jaune: She did that to herself. Plus I am now the odd man out. What need is there for me other than being in danger?

Ruby: You can be with Qrow.

Jaune: No. He has Robyn and Harriet.

Ruby: Come on.

Jaune: Ruby I need this. I need a training arc to get back on my feet. I need to figure out what I'm going after all this. Especially, after Alyx despite everything gave a second chance. I’m not wasting this.

Ruby: What are you talking about?

Jaune: Ruby, I couldn't save Pyrrha. I couldn't save Penny. Oscar. Alyx.

Ruby: Wait, you did save Oscar.

Jaune: Not before Emerald.

Ruby: oh.

Jaune: I’m just saying, I want to live to see my family again. So I need to get more experience and training to become stronger because obviously the roles I have are not a good fit for me.

Ruby; Hm. Good point. Good point.

Afterwards

Weiss: You let him go!!?

Ruby: Absolutely.

Yang: Why?

Ruby: I mean I understand. I thought I took L’s but him, nope.

Blake: But Ruby-

Ruby; Blake. He cheated Beacon. He almost dies multiple times. Every girl he meets either dies or hoes him in some way. And he was trapped on an island for years. Okay? He’s an uncle to a lesbian couple's son. He has a family who he may not be on good terms with. Also, in theory, didn’t Raven burn down the village him and his family used to go to? Probably the last good memory he had of his family.

Qrow: Oh shit she did.

Ruby: Oh my god. How was Raven not on his kill list along with Cinder?

Qrow: Yeah, we might not need to avoid telling him.

Ruby: All I’m saying is the guy has been through hell by himself. I say let him breathe.

Weiss: Are you serious?!

Ruby: Bitch don’t be mad at me! You only started liking him cause you were simp for the Rusted Knight. Hell, didn’t he save you like three times either from embarrassment or death? And didn’t you start off as immature as you thought he was?

Weiss:: Um.

Ruby: Exactly.

Nora: Ruby, that’s not fair. He’s our teammate. And our leader.

Ruby: Oh, so now you care?

Nora: What did you say?

Ruby: I mean Sakura-

Nora: Nora.

Ruby: No, Sakura, you can’t keep choosing when you want to start being a good teammate.

Nora: Excuse me. I’ll have you know-

Ruby: Don’t you be rude to him sometimes.

Nora: Um.

Ruby: You're also never there. In fact, you and Ren majority of the time are useless.

Ren: What?!

Ruby: Like you're never around when he needs you. And no, that portal thing doesn’t count. That was our fault. However, you two always prioritize each other but never Jaune. In fact, you two halfway almost left us to fight a giant grimm. Let Jaune face a maiden by himself, knowing his skill level is average.

Nora: Ruby that was months ago. Get over it.

Ruby: Alright, so where were you in the Cardin situation? Where were you during the Pyrrha situation? In fact how come you two were the first out when Neo showed up.?

Nora: Um.

Yang: In fact, isn’t Jaune kind of the one who saved your relationship by talking with Ren?

Ren: Um.

Ruby: Exactly. Like I said Sakura, you can’t choose to be a good team member when you want to be. So be a good girl and stay with your Sasuke.

Nora: Little bi- *tries to strike Ruby*

Ren: *hold Nora back* No Nora, calm down!

Nora: No way I’m taking that disrespect!

Ruby: Plus, he had a point. We barely get hurt. We rarely do defense. And the majority of our battles rarely require strategy. I hate to say it but strength is everything. And Jaune has the potential to outweigh us in every category.

Ren: Ruby, he is a healer.

Ruby: And you’re supposed to be a ninja and a skilled fighter but you're just as useless as your girlfriend.

Ren: … …

Oscar: Well Aura Amplification is more than just healing it increases other people's abilities.

Ruby: Oh really. Okay, Oscar, I have one question. Who here now needs Jaune to help amplify their abilities?

Oscar: Um.

Ruby: Mind you Ren is able to cover multiple people without Jaune’s help now. And Weiss barely needs healing either. So who?

Oscar: … Nobody.

Ruby: NOBODY. So let Jaune use his semblance for him. He needs it more than us. Maybe it has multiple purposes that we don’t know about.

Yang: But Ruby he’s not built like us.

Ruby: *stares at Yang*

Yang: What?

Ruby: I-I should- You are- Oo I… Keep it together Ruby. No need to bury this bitch along with your mom. She still raised you.

Yang: What? What did I say wrong?

Ruby: Yang, if Jaune stopped giving Fs about everything, he basically be a monster.

Yang: Wait rea-Really?

Ruby: Yes he goes there sometimes. He did it Heaven not giving a f about the situation and went for Cinder. In Argus, he didn’t think twice about stealing an airship and was ready to put his hands on Oscar.

Yang: Until you stopped him.

Ruby: You must not have seen his eyes he was ready to fight me too.

Yang: Oh.

Ren: And in Atlas he was ready to risk our lives to save Oscar.

Yang: True.

Blake: And again he look me in the eyes after we tried to stop him from killing the Curious Cat. Honey, he is close to being up there.

Yang: He’s got that Beowolf in him.

Ruby: Damn straight. Look. Let’s just give Jaune some space. Let him readjust back to Remnant. And let him find his strength. Alright? Now if you excuse me I need to find someone.

Yang: Who?

Ruby: Raven. She was the last one to see my mom so I need to hear her side of the story of what happened. It may end this stupid family feud we got. Later.*leaves*

Oscar: Hey where’s Emerald?

Somewhere

Jaune: I recall wanting to be alone. Why are you here?

Emerald: Emotional Support.

Jaune: I don’t need emotional support.

Emerald: Not you. Me.

Jaune: And what makes you think I am available, capable or interested in helping you?

Emerald: First, you have zero reasons to trust me. Two, I need screen time now because I’m a major player. So being a side character in your story can work. Three, I’m not like Pyrrha or Weiss, I can like you for my own reasons other than you being the “Rusted Knight” or your potential. And I might not be as linit with you as the others. I can show you, tough love.

Jaune: And what do I gain from this?

Emerald: My actual loyalty.

[mvndfvelds]

HELLO !! i've not written any fanfiction in like 3 years so excuse how awful this is, but the spencer reid obsession is just too strong to resist. also there are a serious lack of gn!reader and especially male!reader fics, so if i ever write it'll be for those pairings :))

here's a cringey little valentine's day drabble x

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☆ pairing: gn!reader × spencer reid (no use of 'y/n')

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Valentine's day is overrated anyway, right? At least that's what you've been telling yourself all day whilst being silently bitter about the fact Spencer, your roommate, probably already has a date.

It had hit around 6pm, and you had yet to hear Spencer move from his room - in all honesty, he probably had a date with about 10 books this evening anyway. The romance films all seemed a little too much today, so you ended up laying there staring out the window with a takeaway pizza box laying across your stomach.

Giving up on sitting alone, you swung your legs off the sofa and onto the floor, padding up to Spencer's door and raising a tentative hand to knock.

"Come in!"

You poked your head around the door, still not wanting to intrude fully. You opened your mouth to speak, but he butted in already, "look. If you're gonna comment on the fact I'm alone today, I'd like to remind you that you are too."

"I- wow, you think so lowly of me!" You snarked, "I was going to ask if you wanted to watch something with me seeing as we're both alone?"

"Statistically, there's still 30% of Americans who spend their Valentine's day alone or with friends anyway. Besides, it's all developed into feeding into capitalism now. Oh, and yes, I'd like to watch something!" He rambled whilst you smiled fondly and turned to leave, assuming he was trailing near behind you.

Both of you flopped to the sofa again, the soft lighting in the living room was almost romantic when you looked to Spencer. You tore your eyes away and trailed through the romcoms - Spencer would never admit it, but his guilty pleasure film is '10 Things I Hate About You'.

Halfway through the film you draped a blanket over yourself, revelling in the fact Spencer had moved his feet into your lap afterwards. It wasn't out of the ordinary to be subtly affectionate with Spencer anymore, you'd both taken a fair while to settle into a domestic life, but it was second nature now. Though that didn’t mean your heart didn’t stutter a little at every touch.

"I don't really understand high-school hierarchies," he said absent-mindedly, referring to the film.

"Me neither, though I don't either of us need high-school hierarchies to be considered 'nerds', do we?"

He chuckled lightly before deciding to reposition himself on the sofa entirely, turning the other way and asking, "can I lay my head on you?" You nodded, slightly bemused by his wriggling, focusing on the TV.

One of his lanky arms had made its way to drape over your lap, and one of your hands had settled on playing with his hair. Nearing the end of the film, during Kat's monologue, Spencer sniffled lightly.

"Spence... are you crying?"

He shook his head defiantly, "no? It's just a film."

You held his chin gently and turned his head so he was looking up at you from your lap with teary eyes. You cooed teasingly making his face heat up, "see, you're just a little crybaby. No shame in it, man, we've all been there."

You ran a thumb over his cheekbone, catching a stray tear and wiping it away. "If you weren't a pretty crier I'd take the piss out of you right now, y'know?" You said, sounding far too fond when it was only supposed to be a joking comment.

Evidently this wasn't going to slip past Mr. BAU, so he grinned up at you shyly and muttered, "you think I'm pretty?"

You nodded, face pink, you'd fallen into your own failed sarcasm and there was no way out at this point. Ah, fuck it, you may as well take your chances. You leant down slowly, your intention clear, waiting for a sign that he was happy with this. It soon came as he lifted his head slightly to meet your lips in a gentle kiss. You let out a small whine when he flopped back down with a satisfied grin, finding one of your hands and playing with your fingers gently.

"I guess we don't fit into that 30% anymore, right?"

[shuttershocky]

Do you have a dislike for media universes that "rewards" people for watching/reading all of it in general?

Or do you think there is one that executes that idea well?

I'm answering this 5 months late, but I'm pretty sure I still remember this ask being prompted by a post making fun of the MCU.

Do I dislike story universes that reward people for reading all of it? Not at all. I mean, I'm a fan of both Middle Earth and Star Wars, I fucking love big, big universes with plenty of stories in them. When they intersect in some small way it's a delight to me, I love those little personal winks from the author for having read their other works or recognizing the most obscure names only a nerd would know.

However, there's a difference between a little reference in a story meant for people who can connect the dots, and making something almost required reading for your enjoyment. It's the difference between an acknowledgement from the creators that you liked the setting enough to come back for a new yet familiar ride, and a company realizing they've found their cash cow and can't wait to milk it for all its got until it's dead.

And dead the cash cow will be, eventually. It's been said before that the reason why the Big Two of western comics have ceded more and more ground to manga over the years is that Spider-Man has 10 different starting points while Naruto starts with Volume#1. That's not just a funny joke. Onboarding new readers has genuinely been Marvel and DC's problem for decades, which is why it was both incredibly predictable yet shocking all the same that this is what the MCU turned itself into.

Sure, early on you could ask the audience to watch a couple movies before the big Avengers crossover, but now they've got all these TV shows on top of the movies that you have to watch in order to "catch up", and it's not even about the cool characters anymore. More and more of their fanbase is going to stop caring once the barrier of entry gets too high, and it's ridiculous to me that Marvel went this road with their movies when they know this is what happened to their comics first.

I mean, are you serious, their next big bad is Kang? I am not watching several TV shows and an Ant-Man movie that's somehow worse than the second one all to see how the currently left Avengers meet goddamn Kang the Conqueror. He's in both the TV shows and the movies, which means they're somehow giving Kang more buildup screentime than Thanos. Why? Either I've been extremely out of touch with Marvel comics or the MCU picked a wild choice to headline their next billion dollar franchise when Doctor Doom is actually available to them now and barely needs an introduction.

Sorry, got lost for a bit. Back on topic, yeah I know I know, all art right now exists under capitalism which means every setting that becomes a wider story universe is an author trying to milk their existing fanbase. Whenever a creator makes a thing that I like, and then announces they have a new thing set in the same setting as their first thing but isn't a direct sequel so they can keep gaining a new audience while keeping their existing one, I know I'm being suckered in.

Just, don't make it so blatant. And don't make it so hard. I am the exact target audience for these shenanigans and even I'm starting to feel like it's homework because it's all fucking required now.

If I, a lifelong Star Wars fan, want to watch the newest Star Wars thing, I have to see a hundred hours of other Star Wars media first. If I want to watch The Mandalorian Season 3, I can't just have seen Season 1 and 2, oh no, I have to also see The Book of Boba Fett too, because halfway through that show became The Mandalorian Season 2.5. Well I did see Boba Fett, and the combination of my dislike for turning it into required homework AND the show itself just being kinda dogshit meant I never touched season 3 of the Mandalorian. That show used to be so great because it wasn't tied down to any existing story arcs or characters, so it stood on its own and made for an amazing watch no matter how much Star Wars you've actually seen. And then it succeeded and so had to become the new spine for the entirety of Disney Star Wars afterward. Fuck. Now if I want to watch their latest show Ahsoka, I have to have seen the Clone Wars animated series AND Rebels, because the Rebels cast are in it too! I mean I did see Clone Wars and Rebels, but that still sucks!

That makes me worried now! Andor was also really fucking good and it stood on its own so hard you didn't even need to see Rogue One, the movie that introduced Cassian Andor in the first place. But now that season 1 was a success and everyone sang its praises, it certainly means season 2 is suddenly going to get real cramped with Ahsoka and Luke Skywalker and whatever guys are currently alive in its timeframe. Shit, they're probably gonna add Cal Kestis in season 2 of Andor. The Respawn Star Wars games are still doing their own thing which means it's time to connect to something else.

I hate what all this has become. It was fun to read the Silmarillion and see what kind of fuckery one family of elves got up to that eventually turned Sauron from minion to big evil eye parked next to evil mountain, but you didn't need to read all that before The Lord of the Rings. LOTR didn't assume you knew anything at all (and oh boy did Tolkien never miss an opportunity to explain shit).

Let me repeat. I am the target audience. I live for the ridiculously nerdy habit of reading things set in the same universe as other things and connecting all the dots. If /I/ feel like it's become homework, I can't imagine what the average person thinks of all this. Make it stop. Stop running everything I once loved into the ground in the name of endless profit. Star Wars was already doing this to itself before the Disney acquisition and yet it didn't feel this bad.

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Eight

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Hey! Quick note, this part has a LOT going on, it jumps from pov 2 or 3 times, but there's details mentioned that will make more sense later on, I hope that leaves no one confused:) Also there are a few new characters coming in, some will stay, some won't, so keep that in mind! I was gonna end this part like halfway through and then post, but it felt a little unfinished, so here it is hope you enjoy:))) x

Warnings: A short scene revolving around body image, mentions of scars, drugs, sobriety and heavy drinking

Masterlist

Messages now Jamie O (glasses!) In the area, fancy meeting up for coffee?

It had been a good few days since I had last messaged either Jamie or Matty. Though the latter hadn't seemed to have caught onto the fact that I had suddenly distanced myself. Jamie, on the other hand, had and had surprisingly given me some space with it. 

Well, up until now that was.

It was a weary sigh that escaped me when I gazed down at my phone, needless chatter of gossiping mums and squealing children having faded far into the background.

I had only just managed to drop Teddy off at nursery, dipping and diving through the crowd to deliver him right to the classroom door, and was already halfway out of the playground now. It was my first day off in weeks- like proper day off. And now, I had Jamie to deal with.

Alright, maybe that was a bit harsh, but saying that, I wasn’t so much of a twat to just ignore the first message he’d sent me in a while. Especially after I'd disregarded all of the man's previous efforts. Still I couldn't quite stop myself from huffing quietly as I shot him back a message, anxiety creeping in.

Messages now Closer to Tufnell Park than the studio at the minute

Jamie’s response came only seconds later.

Messages now Jamie O (glasses!) No worries! Meet you near The Dome?

Sidestepping a few latecomers as I exited the school gate, I chewed on my bottom lip but eventually sent a text to let Jamie know that I'd be there. I only hoped that the man didn't ask too many questions about my sudden disappearance, I wasn’t too sure I could take the heat.

Early morning rush hour was in full swing by the time I’d made my way out onto the highstreet, people bustled past me to get to work without a care, or even an apology, for anyone who got in their way, zooming on ahead like a soldier in a storm. That was one of the things that had taken me some time to get used to, in truth. How different the crowds of London were to the tiny population of my hometown.

I'd just surpassed the underground station when I caught sight of a vaguely familiar head of dishevelled hair. Jamie stood a way ahead, smiling at the passersby with his hands shoved deeply into the lining of his coat's pockets. He wore a pair of dark, fitted trousers and had a smart looking scarf thrown haphazardly over his right shoulder, something to shelter him from the exaggerated cold. 

Somehow, his face seemed to brighten upon seeing me approach.

"Glad you could make it!" He said as I approached, and he clapped my upper arm in light greeting. "Thought you would have managed to beat me here though."

I made do with a small smile, before gesturing my head over towards where a quaint cafe sat up a few doors down so that we could begin walking.

"Nah, it's pretty hectic trying to escape the crowds at this time. Did you catch the tube up here then?" I conversed and saw Jamie’s brow dip for the briefest of moments before he hastily shook his head at my question.

"Oh, no. Was just leaving a meeting up in Shoreditch, you were on my route so I thought I'd ask."

I gave a low hum, unsure, but didn't comment on it when I thanked him for holding the door open for me to pass through.

"What are you in the mood for then? It's on me."

"Ah, no it's-"

I didn't even get the chance to decline the offer before Jamie was waving me off with a charming smile and a wave of his arm. "Honestly, mate. It's fine, a cup of coffee won't have me out on my arse. So what do you want?"

Blinking with a somewhat disbelieving shake of my head, I prattled off my usual order in a low murmur and told Jamie that I'd find us a table. Just wanting to be helpful, but also to get a second to think things through.

The cafe wasn't too busy. It held the expected usuals; a handful of early-rising old timers and a couple of suits headed in late. So there were a few free tables up for grabs. I picked the one by the window.

Jamie joined me a few minutes later, wearing his usual grin as he carried over a tray of goodies. I raised an eyebrow at the mountain of sweet pastries procured but the man simply shrugged.

"Looked like you'd had a long morning, figured you to be the chocolate type." He commented as he nudged a large croissant in my direction.

Just looking at the buttery roll made my stomach grumble. Teddy and I had been in a wee bit of a rush this morning to get out of the house after my alarm had failed to wake us, so I'd skipped breakfast and picked Teds up something to eat on the way into school.

Toying with the rim of the coffee's handle, I gave Jamie an appreciative smile. “Cheers.” I breathed out and carefully pulled the plate in a little closer.

After that we both simply sipped at our warm drinks for a short while, watching as the morning commuters passed by the large window. It was a calm affair and far from as awkward as I might've expected the meeting to be. In fact, it was actually the first time Jamie and I had met up since that day at the studio, and even then we hadn't had much of an opportunity to chat. 

Still, Jamie’s company felt very similar to that of Adi's- perhaps even Finn's. It allowed me to relax a little. 

It was only after I'd broken off the end of my croissant that I spoke up.

"So, is driving across London at nine in the morning just to buy me a drink your idea of a date, or do you do this with all your mates?"

Jamie blinked at me once, twice, before his eyes widened in alarm, which caused me to, quite literally, snort into my tea.

"I'm joking! Don't fret. Just wondering why the sudden change in pace."

Jamie gifted me a sheepish grin in response and took a quick swig of his coffee before he finally replied.

"You went quiet on us." He shrugged as he picked apart a blueberry muffin, separating the berries from the soft sponge, which amused me somewhat. "Gave you a couple days to breathe, but I reckon you've had long enough. You wanna tell me what's up?"

My eyes strayed back to the window as I withheld a sigh, knowing full well that this had been coming. 

“You know how it is.” I shrugged, almost petulant, and gripped at my cup a little tighter. "Just got busy. I mean, you have to deal with Matty and the band constantly. Can’t be an easy feat."

I received a laugh in turn but my attempt at a little lighthearted humour didn't derail Jamie.

"I know we haven't known each other that long, and you really do have no reason to trust me, of all people, with your problems. But I am here if you ever need anything. Can't speak for Matty, try as I might, but I wouldn't put it past him to go completely out of his way to do whatever you asked either." He chuckled to himself then, like he knew something I didn’t. "He actually hasn't been able to stop talking about you, you know. Not since we met."

I tapped at the mug and felt my tongue prod the inside of my cheek to keep from snorting at Jamie’s words. I just shook my head.

"Doubt he's even noticed I've stopped replying." I quipped lightly, trying to shrug off the sudden emotion that admission had stirred up.

"Ah, so you have been ignoring us then."

I inhaled sharply and dropped my gaze. I couldn’t outright lie to him. 

"Yeah, sorry. Just had a lot going on, you know? This is all new for me, you and Matty, you've just. I don't even know. You just turned up out of the blue and..."

"Sort of invited ourselves into your life?" Jamie filled in with a wry smile.

"No, no! That's- that's not what I meant. Honestly. It's just strange. Different from what I expected." I attempted to backtrack, but ultimately failed.

"No, I get it." Jamie assured, but didn't push the topic any further. "You're stupid, by the way, if you think Matty hasn't noticed. In all the time I've known him, the idiot’s only ever texted me when he's needed something- but the last couple days? I don't think my phone’s stopped going off."

I shovelled another piece of the chocolatey pastry into my mouth to keep myself from replying or reading too much into that.

Jamie released a breathy chuckle and shook his head, as though he could read my reaction, my thoughts. "You've been good for him so far, Mouse. No parties. No drugs. Can't say the same thing about the drink, but he's cut a lot of it out. And I'm chalking that all up to you, ‘cause I can't think of anything else that might've changed in his life to have forced his hand like this."

His words confused me, but then he paused for a moment and purposely caught my eye. 

"Whatever's happened, don't let it keep you from opening up. Not just for his sake, but for yours too. Besides, you can never have too many friends, can you?"

I wiped at my mouth before dipping my head in quiet assent. "No. I ‘spose I can do friends."

Jamie all but beamed, looking pretty proud of himself as he reached across the table for a scone. "Now, tell me all the things that I've missed."

***

Matty practically jumped out of his seat when he heard the front door rattle shut. 

He'd been on edge since the moment he had woken up, but had decided to try for once. He made breakfast (well, rather a late lunch), tried all that meditating malarky (his therapist would be, oh so, proud), and even ended up doing a loop of the block in a desperate attempt to keep his chaotic mind at bay. But nothing. Nothing. Had been able to keep him from wearing the soles of his feet into the fucking floorboards. 

"And where’ve you been?" Matty instigated as soon as Jamie strolled into his sitting room with his usual smile, shaking off the autumn chill he’d invited in with him.

"Around." Was all the twat replied as he draped his heavy overcoat on the back of one of the upholstered armchairs. He paused to eye Matty closely. "Why, what's got your knickers in a twist?"

Matty’s scowl was infamous by this point, but Jamie was one of the fair few to have gotten used to it. A right shame, that. "Nothing! Just- I texted you, wanted an update."

Jamie quirked an amused brow his way and it took all of Matty’s nervous pent up energy not to blow up at him. He could feel his own irritation building though, it tingled in the tips of his fingers and raised goosebumps across his skin. 

"That all? You know the team won't give us an answer until they’re certain that it all won't fall through."

Matty gritted his teeth together and tugged a rough hand through his dishevelled hair. "It's bollocks! It's our fucking album, why do they get a say in what happens with it?"

Jamie sighed quietly to himself as he wandered over towards the heavyset globe sat in the far corner. Matty watched on as he slid its top off and procured a pair of tumblers, pouring two fingers of murky whiskey into each of the old fashioned glasses.

"You know why, mate." 

They'd had this conversation too many times before. And yet,

Matty clenched his jaw to keep from snapping, lashing out, but his knuckles whitened around the glass when Jamie pressed it into his palm. He almost wanted to laugh.

"Thought you wanted me off the drink?" He remarked coldly but swallowed the spirit down before Jamie could give him an actual answer, or take it away. He only wished that the alcohol burned brighter, these days it barely left a bitter tang on his tongue.

Jamie didn't touch his own as he made his way on over towards the chaise lounge, but his fingertips tapped a smooth rhythm against the crystal. The house didn’t make a sound.

Matty followed, as expected, restlessly flinging his feet up onto the centre table before his agitation once again began to overwhelm him. He huffed when he dropped them back to the floor again, the heavy vibrations grounding him somewhat as he moved to rest his elbows on the knobs of his knees.

"That newest story's doing wonders for you right now though." Jamie told him gently when Matty’s quick eyes met his gaze, his hands still toying with the full glass. "They want to rebuild your image. Figure it'll help with album presales, and they're not really all that wrong, mate. Since you've been out of um-”

“You can say it.”

Jamie rolled his eyes but barrelled on, “Since you've been out of rehab. Well, the public's been enjoying seeing this new side of you. Besides, I thought you liked whatever her name was."

With a scoff, Matty forced his gaze away. "It's complete shit and you know it. PR just wants control. For me to fall in line. And the public couldn't give a single fuck about what I do! All they live for is the gossip, the drama. And that's what I do best, no? Don't worry though, J, I'm sure I'll fuck up sooner or later."

"Don't talk like that." Jamie scolded as he pushed his tumbler onto the table and moved a little closer. He looked to be fighting an internal battle, his fingers twitching on the inseam of his leg to keep himself from reaching out to comfort.

"Oh, fucking come off it, Jamie! You know it's true." Matty spat back, the rage once again building. These past few days had had him fraying. "I bet they’re already sitting there at that table just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And I already know they’ll want to be the first in the know, when I finally do fuck up again. Spout about what a waste of space I am! How they should've sacked me off sooner. That it should've been me and not-"

"Don't."

Jamie’s voice cut through the room like a blaring siren, but Matty had never heard him speak so lowly. 

"Don't go there. He wouldn't want you thinking that way."

Matty locked his jaw and narrowed his scrutinising eyes at Jamie. "Don't act like you know what he'd want."

Jamie glanced away for the briefest of seconds and inhaled slowly before his gaze finally returned. Matty could see his own torment reflected in Jamie’s sad eyes. "It hurt me too. You know that."

Matty forced his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Unable to deal with the many emotions that threatened to overpower him. He swiped Jamie's drink off of the table and swallowed it down in one, then swiftly stood and strode across the room to make another.

The amber liquid warmed his chest as expected and he felt the moment it hit his empty stomach. He braced himself against the globe's golden stand, leaving his hair to fall helplessly into his face. Thankfully, it shielded his glossy eyes from Jamie’s view.

It was still so hard. Most nights it was all he could ever picture-

No. Not today, he rebuked. Not now. Not again.

It was a never ending nightmare that he just couldn't seem to wake himself up from. And how he fucking wished he could wake up.

Matty went to refill the glass again but faltered. His hand stilled, midair, fingers itching to grab at the ancient old bourbon that sat only inches away, but instead he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his phone.

Too many notifications cluttered the screen. But not a single one from the person he wanted to talk to most. 

In a fit of dismay, he went to throw the stupid thing at the nearest wall but a hand caught his wrist before he could do any real damage.

Matty’s eyes flickered up to meet Jamie’s- he choked.

"I just-" He tried to force out but the words felt like thick bile in his throat. His lip trembled and Jamie tugged him close. Matty wondered when he'd ever allowed the man to get so close. To breach his high walls.

"I know." Jamie hushed him, allowing a steady hand to come to rest at the back of Matty’s neck. "I know, mate."

Matty wondered if he truly did.

***

Mesmerising. 

I let the word play over and over on a loop in my head as my fingertips trailed along the jagged lines of my torso. 

Seventeen I'd been- my first time with this boy from college and he had called the scars I was forced to bare mesmerising. As if they were something special, something to be proud of. I'd frozen back then, the word had, so suddenly, hindered my entire world, but he'd gone on exploring without even noticing the way my mind had started to spiral.

The scars had always been a difficult pill to swallow. They weren't mine. I hated how others could so easily claim their own. His scars. My scars. Hers. I didn't want them. They were just there. A myriad of haunted memories to which I'd been burdened with since the age of seven.

All these years later and still I couldn't recall the smooth expanse of skin that had once been there- untarnished, unharmed.

The bronze shadows, created by the setting sun which illuminated my bedroom walls in a burning shade of amber, crawled across the floorboards beneath my feet and caressed my skin. They dipped and curved, exaggerating sharp lines and hallowing shallow slopes.

I'd only meant to have a quick shower, in and out, before Finn inevitably ended up dropping Teddy back home. But I'd left the wardrobe door wide open in my haste to leave early this morning and had yet to shut it, exposing the slim mirror attached to the inside of the wooden door. A slip up.

So now my distorted body stared back at me mercilessly and I couldn't find it in myself to tear my eyes away. The meek girl stood within its four cutting lines just wasn't me. It was simply the reflection of a sheltered kid who'd been forced to grow up far too quickly. 

Her skin, hardly what you'd pale but not far off, was flushed and pink all over from the steam of the shower. Her hair, still damp and wet, clung to the majority of her forehead and dripped water droplets down the line of her throat. Her eyes, usually a deep, warm colour, were somewhat sunken, hidden behind heavy lids and long lashes. The dark circles that sat beneath them only emphasised the muted scarlet that rimmed her waterline- a lack of sleep. 

I wet my lips. They were dry, bitten from hours of relentless anxiety, but parted enough so that my front teeth could just about be seen. Her face was lined by worry. Fine wrinkles etched themselves around the corners of her eyes and mouth, then again between her furrowed brows.

The scars, faded but somehow still raw, swept up her neck and collarbone, and jumped over her right shoulder. One crept across the cut of her jaw, whilst another sliced through the bridge of her nose to meet another, smaller scar, on her cheek. Her chest, where it had been previously impaled, was now stretched and knitted. Some lines were a few shades darker than her natural complexion, maroon, and oftentimes cardinal. Others were lighter, pale and whitened. Faded.

A gruesome gash down the centre of her abdomen led to a spattering of fine hairs that lined her navel, trailing low beneath the hem of the towel she'd wrapped around her waist earlier. Her hands were now fisted at her sides though, so much so that prominent veins danced up the insides of her forearms, skirting around the few fawn freckles that painted her skin.

Mesmerising.

The sudden blare of a mobile ringing sent a sharp chill up my spine and knocked the air back into me. Shakily I inhaled, averting my eyes from the mirrored prison, then spun round on my heel to answer the call.

There was no greeting, no small talk. It was cutthroat and to the point.

"I need a drink. You coming?"

And I had never answered a question quicker.

--

It was a hard task, squinting down at my phone in an attempt to concentrate on the text I was trying to send to Finn, but the strobe lights and throng of people around me were making the task rather fucking difficult.

To be honest though, I couldn’t actually remember the last time I'd stepped foot inside a club. Or even spent an entire evening sat in the local pub. But I’d been all but desperate, and so, in the heat of the moment, I had practically jumped at the first offer I’d been given. 

I was beginning to second guess that decision now though as I pushed my way through the rowdy crowds, the assorted smell of liquor and sweat already clinging to my clothes. I hadn't really put too much thought into those, too busy trying to escape my own head. Really, I’d just thrown on an old skirt from my uni days, a top that made my tits look great but hid the scar there, and the well-worn leather jacket Finn had gifted me at the end of my first year working on the show.

I had just sent the text off, double checking with the man himself that he was still alright to have Teddy til the following morning, when a raised voice caught my attention.

Frowning, my head snapped up but that soon faded once I caught sight of the tall ginger propped up against the bar not too far away. My lips curled up into a lopsided grin on their own command and I was quick to pocket my phone, already moving towards him.

"Mighty Mouse. You actually made it!" Ronan Kelly bellowed in that familiar Irish lilt of his, welcoming me in with a hearty squeeze to the waist as we embraced. "It's a feckin' miracle!"

I gave him an impish smile and dipped my head slightly to rub at my nose, then made the effort to catch Ronan's icy gaze. "I guess it has been a while."

"A while- Babe, I ain't seen you in months!" Ronan laughed, flashing a row of white teeth and wrinkling his bright blue eyes. I felt some of my worries ease at the sight of the man's familiar face, a warm reminder of older days. "Can't believe you actually agreed to come out with us!"

I shook my head and released an airy chuckle, "You know how it is, Ro- got Teddy to worry about now."

Ronan's face, if possible, lit up even further at the mention of the small toddler. "Ah, grand! How is the wean? At school now, right?"

It was sweet of him to ask and I smiled up at him as I went to answer, but was forced further into Ronan’s space when some prat barged past me to get to the bar. Ronan caught me by the waist with a natural ease he’d always been capable of and narrowed his eyes at the guilty party from over my shoulder. 

Not wanting things to escalate, I did my best to quickly wave it off and distract. "Teddy's good!" I heard myself tell him, voice slightly raised to be heard over the pulsing music, tiptoeing almost now in his grasp. "He's with Finn at the moment."

Ronan's gaze reluctantly trailed back to me upon hearing me speak, he reluctantly smiled and nodded but had yet to drop his hands from where they were now stationed at my hips.

"I'm sure Finn is completely lovin' that."

With a light laugh, I rolled my eyes at his sarky reply and moved to press my forearm up against the edge of the bar’s countertop. "They're a proper little duo. Finn has been a saint, what with all his help and that. Don't think I'd be standing here today without him really."

"Well, let's cheers to that then, hey?" Ronan grinned, then raised a hand to gesture over towards the barman.

Within seconds two pints were being placed on the bartop, a dizzying yellow colour filled to the brim with minuscule bubbles that had my mouth watering. It had been a long while since a fresh pint of lager had wet my lips and it helped that Ronan’s presence was a comfort.

"Sláinte!" He announced brashly, already having hoisted his glass into the air between us.

"Cheers!" I laughed, clinking our glasses together before gulping down a too large swig.

"That's what I like to see!" Ronan whooped, almost proudly. He squeezed my right hip in celebration before choosing to steer us both away from the bar and over towards a wall lined with darkened booths. "Come on, Auley and everyone's waiting over here, been excited to see ya!”

I only nodded in reply, pint close to my chest as I followed after him, bobbing between an array of patrons effortlessly now. The earlier anxiety shovelled deep, deep down.

***

Withdrawal was something Matty had never thought too much about in the years before. He'd always had everything right there, on tap. A quick hit, a line just to pick him up. It always felt so easy.

But now, without the copious amount of pills, the parties, he finally realised why the fuck people were never able to stay away for too long. Because sooner or later, they always ended up crawling back.

It wasn't so much the flu-ish like sickness that had him reeling, although he really could've done without the high-fever sweats and the full body tremors. It was more that ever encompassing sorrow. The depression that never seemed to lift- but then again, depressed wasn't even the first word he would use to describe it. It was like a thick plume of murky black that fogged every exit, far beyond the gut wrenching nausea that clawed away at his insides at all hours of the day, or the constant drilling in his head that kept him from sleep.

Being without- 

Being without was practically maddening. A spiral of hellish days with no escape, the only choice he had was to carry on or simply turn back. And he'd come too far now to run towards the latter, he’d already made that mistake. And if he had anything to thank his godforsaken mother for, it was the sheer stubbornness they both so clearly shared.

Matty couldn't complain though, he wouldn’t, as much as he wished he often could though, because he was still leaning heavily on the spirits. He knew. As well as the band and Jamie, who'd also been hellbent on 'helping'. In their own way.

Although the idiots hadn't made things much easier for him, the guys hadn't put up much of a fight against his drunk ramblings or the never ending mood swings. They just took it all in stride. Which Matty was mostly grateful for.

The alcohol though, he'd currently taken to using as a crutch. He'd drink a little more and more just to cope with the effects, the longing, to get him through to the next day. But he'd never felt too dependent on it before and didn't feel as though it was a massive problem now, he'd been drinking since before he'd worked out how to pick the lock on his dad’s old liquor cabinet. He’d keep drinking ‘til he was near the grave.

The drinking though, was just a baby habit in comparison to the drugs.

It was also how he'd managed to find himself out on a Thursday night. 

He'd actually managed to forgo Hann's mothering this time, sending his mate off home early from the studio before he'd called up an old friend. Itching for that familiarity of older times, shaking with it really, but knowing better.

"Oi, Healy- you still with us?" Crowed a loud voice in his left ear.

Matty startled at it and turned back around to find the one and only Danny Willis hanging over his shoulder, usual open-mouthed grin on full display, a drink in hand.

He blinked up at him once before Matty’s lips turned upwards into a lazy smile, he spun around on his foot to get further in his friend's face. "Thought you'd gone off with that bird?"

"Who, blondie?" Danny questioned, smirking now. "Nah, wouldn't have left you hanging all alone, mate."

Matty snorted.

"Ah, so you do care!" He drained the dregs of his bourbon then grinned at the twat, "Always wondered whether you fancied me, Danny boy! Guess this just proves it, don’t it?"

Danny wound an arm around his shoulders and leant in to press a sloppy, wet kiss to his cheek. Matty pulled away, cackling as he tried to shrug the added weight off.

"Prick." Matty scoffed lightly, stumbling as he rubbed at his face. He grunted at the small group he'd accidentally bulldozed into in his haste and they all scowled in return, but it wasn't long before Danny jumped in to rescue and steer him away.

"Come on. Let's get out of here, hey? The next bar awaits and all that." Danny proclaimed, chucking back the remnants of his own drink. Matty chuckled when the man winced and then wiped the corners of his mouth. "Reckon we might be able to find someone decent for you to take home there!"

Matty merely hummed in reply as they pushed their way through a set of double doors and out into the night, not really listening as he propped himself up against Dan's side, ignoring the whispers that tended to follow wherever he went.

"Ah, look at that, would you!" Danny's voice came again, right by his ear, as he paused on the pavement to cock his chin outwards, forcing Matty to follow his gaze. "It's a full moon!"

Matty rolled his eyes.

***

"Come on, Mouse!" Auley tried for the umpteenth time that night. His larger than life smile, I noted, had always been much gentler than that of his brother's. "You can't stay cooped up in this booth all evenin'! You need to put yourself out there, darlin’- have some fun!"

I shook my head, chuckling up at the giant of a man standing before me. "I swear I'm fine here, Aul. You go and have enough fun for the both of us."

Auley's face scrunched up in distaste as he reluctantly pushed away from the table's edge, the dim lights of the bar illuminating his hair, almost seeming to set it alight as it added a halogen glow to the already coppery red.

Ronan chose that moment to reappear, brushing past his brother to settle back into the booth next to me. He set two more drinks down on the table. "Leave the poor lass alone, won’t you, Aul! You know how she gets."

I rolled my eyes, albeit fondly, and Auley did the same as he slowly backed away, mouth quirked upwards. "Yeah, yeah. Yer like a pair of old women, you two- peas in a pod or somethin'."

"Ah, shove off!" Ronan laughed, a deep rumbling sound that shook his whole body. "Think I can hear the dance floor callin' your name, mate."

"Too right." Auley quipped, flashing another bright grin at his brother before he turned back to face me. "Know that this isn't over just yet. You might've won this battle but you ain't won the war, darlin’. I'll soon get that dance."

I snorted, but was unable to help my grin. "One day, babe."

Auley winked at me and I watched on as he melted into the mob of people before us, leaving Ronan and I alone.

I observed the crowd for a long moment, taking note of all their dizzying smiles. For a Thursday night, the bar was oddly rampacked, but I couldn't find it in myself to complain too much, not when everyone seemed to be having a great time. 

There was a large group of us out tonight. Alongside asking me to join, Ronan and Auley had brought along the entirety of their flat as well as a few others, some from uni, others from work, I reckoned. They'd all split up within the first half hour though, but they kept drifting back and forth, I could easily spot Penn and his brightly coloured shirt over by the snooker table in the very far corner, and most of the girls had crowded together out on the dance floor. 

"Havin' a good night then?"

I repositioned myself upon hearing Ronan's question, he was closer now in an attempt to be heard over the music, and I sipped at the foamy top of my pint before answering. "Yeah, I am. It's, well it's been a while since I last did anything like this." I chuckled, eyes roaming the room again. 

Ronan shifted closer once more, the booth’s leather seat squeaking quietly under his weight as the song on the overhead speakers faded into the next.

"I'm glad. We haven't seen you proper since yer last year at uni."

It was true but that wasn't just down to me, I felt the need to say. But instead gave him a small smile as I just shrugged, thumbing the edge of the table, "Life gets busy with a baby. Plus, it's not as though any of you lot had time to just drop by and see me, with all your classes and what not."

Ronan’s lips pursed at my words and a quiet stretched between us. I watched on as he fiddled with the bottom of his pint glass, before finally he replied. "Could've made time. Finn did. Cassie, too. Just- it felt strange, going back after that summer and you not bein' there."

To be honest, I didn't really know what to say to that. 

As much as I had loved my time at university, I hadn't really had much space for it in my life after Teddy had come along. And although I’d never regretted my decision to leave, not after everything I'd gone through to get to where I am today. Because my God, had that been hard. I did sometimes miss the memories I’d made there, the people I’d met and, surprisingly, the workload too. It made me question whether I could have had it all, a degree and a baby. Although, I somehow doubted that that was what Ronan was grasping at here.

But it wouldn’t do well to continue to dwell on the past. I'd already spent a large portion of my life doing exactly that, and I’d known in the long run that I would have to have let go of some things in order to provide a better life for Teddy, better than the one that I’d had. I wanted my son to have every possible opportunity, every choice, in order to better himself. I wanted him to be a kid for as long as life would let him.

And as much as I really did love spending time with Ronan and the old gang, I also knew that come tomorrow morning I had actual commitments and responsibilities to attend to. I didn't have the opportunity anymore to skive and bunk off of lectures so that I could deal with a nasty hangover and sleep in. Teddy was always relying on me to come through. And come through I would. Every time.

But right now! I just needed to let my hair down. Enjoy an evening away, and maybe (hopefully) get rid of some of that tension that had been piling up over the previous weeks.

Thankfully though, I was saved from answering when a flushed Alice came hurrying over, clinking her cocktail on the table so hard it's fruity contents spilled out across the wooden surface. The overexcited girl, who was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, didn't pay much mind to the mess as she threw herself into our booth and peered over her shoulder to search for something or other. 

I shot Ronan a bewildered look, but the ginger merely widened his eyes at me as if to say that he had no clue what was going on either. 

"Er, you alright, Al?"

Alice's head snapped back so fast that I honestly fretted a little over the whiplash she must've felt.

"No?! Do I look alright?" Alice stressed, digging her perfectly painted nails into the red cushion that lined the booth's back. "You'll never believe who Penn and I just saw walk in!"

I only hid a smile to myself whilst Ronan decided to humour Alice. "Who d’ya see, Ali-cat?"

Alice's face was nothing like I had ever seen before, her usual pretty smile had been traded in for a kilowatt grin, bunching her rosy cheeks and narrowing her soft brown eyes.

"That singer! You know- the one with the hair and the face! Ah, what's his name? From that band!"

"Matty!" Answered Indra- seemingly a friend of a friend of a friend- who had bounded up to our table in the time Alice had been freaking out, practically hyperventilating. "The. Matty Healy!"

"That's who!" Alice exclaimed and was nodding away excitedly now, whilst I simply sat frozen, drink halfway to my lips.

"Didn't you interview him?" Indra queried suddenly, her eyes as wide as saucers whilst her gaze flitted back and forth between me and the bar at an impossible pace.

Shakily, I set my glass down.

"You did?" Ronan piped up beside me. I swallowed thickly before turning my head towards him, then back towards the two girls, who were anxiously waiting on my reply.

"Uh, yeah." It felt as though I’d forced the words out of my mouth. A ball of cotton having replaced my tongue.

"Oh, Mouse! Introduce us, would you? Please!" Alice all but squealed imploringly.

My alarmed eyes flickered back to Ronan again, then Indra, and then Alice.

My mouth had never felt so dry as I tried my best to ground myself, to get over the sudden, unexpected headfuck that had sent my mind reeling.

"Ah, I don't know, Al. It's, well. I-" I really did struggle to find the right words that could possibly get me out of this entire situation, but before I even knew what was happening, Indra was already reaching for me and pulling me up out of the booth. 

Alice jumped up to join her and patted my sleeve eagerly before proceeding to try and drag me away. Ronan, thank the stars, reached out to stop them just in time, tugging on the hem of my jacket and shooting the two girls a sharp look.

"Oi, you two. Behave, will yer? You didn't even give her the chance to answer."

Alice looked up and flashed me a sheepish grin, "Sorry, hun."

Feeling sheepish and rather relieved, really, to be freed from all the clawing hands, I waved her apology off, knowing Ali was only just drunk and excited. "It's fine, just- I think I'm better off heading home now in truth. You know, I've got Teddy to think about."

Both of the girls' disappointment was overwhelmingly obvious, but they didn't push it any further, simply nodded and tried to smile as best as they could.

"No worries, Mouse. You get on home, babe. Sorry again."

"Wait, you're not actually leaving, are you?" Ronan questioned suddenly, causing me to cast a glance over at him. He was frowning now, that much was obvious from the deep set line rapidly forming between his bushy brows. "It's not 'cause of that tosser, is it?"

Immediately, I felt myself shake my head, already knowing that the lie would taste bitter in my mouth.

"Ah, come off it! Stay for another round at least." Ronan goaded me, moving to stand with the girls, his hand still on my elbow though.

"Nah, I'd best head home, Ro. I don't want to be dealing with a hangover as well as a screaming toddler tomorrow morning." I insisted with a lighthearted chuckle, I gifted him an apologetic smile whilst fishing out my phone to call a cab.

It wasn't even late yet, just gone eleven, and there was an unread text from Finn demanding that I have some fun. I gave a heavy sigh.

"Don't be like that, babe. Come on, one more drink and I'll even walk you home." Ronan raised a brow just as he jutted out his jaw and smiled.

It was tempting but...

I laughed lightly and shook my head. "Honestly, Ro-"

But the man wouldn't hear it. "Come on, ladies. Help me out here!" He implored to both of the girls standing either side of him now, the way he towered them was almost funny.

Indra giggled just as Ronan wrapped his strong arms around her and Alice, shaking them a little. Alice simply rolled her eyes at him in amusement, but pulled away slightly to squeeze my hand.

"It's up to you, M. You know we love seeing you, but I can call you a cab if you really want to head off now."

I could only smile at her and silently questioned why we didn't spend more time together outside of the group. I could easily recall Finn saying something or other about a pottery class the two of them had attended the previous weekend and wondered if that would be something I might enjoy.

"I'll be fine, babe. Thank you, though." I told her kindly, before turning to face Ronan. "You enjoy the rest of your night, alright? I'll text you when I've made it back."

"Mouse..." Ronan groaned unhappily, "Just one more drink. For me?"

I shook my head and tugged my jacket further around my body as I stepped away from the trio, patting down my pockets to make sure that I did have everything I needed. 

"I'll come out again, soon." I promised them, but tried to aim my words at the frowning redhead as I continued to back away. "You can hold me to it."

Ronan worked his jaw before he nodded curtly, and I sighed to myself before spinning on my heel to hastily make my exit. 

Only, it didn't quite happen like that of course, because, of all the people, in all the world, I just had to bump right into none other than Matty.

[stromuprisahat]

I've been reading a lot of criticism about Alina lately, and while I agree that she is a shitty protagonist, but the main problem I have with saying that she is the true villain of the story is that... no one told her? No one talked to her about Grisha persecution? Yeah, we hear about it vaguely in TGT, but it isn't until SoC when they find the burnt corpses and the kefta mural that it truly starts to sink in. It's not until you read DitW that you realize how desperate the situation was (and still is, in some ways). It's not until the Nikolai Duology that the true horror of the Shu experiments is brought to us. We see nothing of it in TGT, so maybe... Alina just doesn't know?

Yeah, sure, she has been around Grisha and is one of them now, but hear me out, it's like white people who say they don't have a problem with POC but they don't realize that it doesn't negate the fact that POC still face racism from others. Add to the fact that nowhere do we see newspapers and as an orphan Alina is definitely less aware of social justice situations than your average white guy- how is she supposed to know? All that she sees is the luxury of the Grisha- their tents their bulletproof clothes, etc.

Just a thought about how the story might have gone different if instead of the crows, it was Alina who found the three burnt bodies while chasing the stag and had to put one of them out of their misery. And how the story might have changed if Alina truly understood the situation.

I'm almost halfway through Siege and Storm, so I’ll talk from this perspective.

I’d say it’s the same issue as anything with Alina- she doesn’t want to know.

She’s almost murdered by a guy yelling “witch” in her face. Funnily enough- at this point it’s still in English (Ravkan), not drüsje, but witch:

I twisted and kicked as the yellow-bearded man grabbed hold of my legs. I looked desperately down to the glen, but the soldiers and Grisha below me were fighting for their lives, clearly outnumbered and unable to come to my aid. I struggled and thrashed, but the Fjerdan was too strong. He climbed on top of me, using his knees to pin my arms to my sides, and reached for his knife.

“I’ll gut you right here, witch,” he snarled in a heavy Fjerdan accent.

She gets safely to Little Palace, mentiones this whole experience twice and that’s it. It wouldn’t even take that much to get back to this topic- next chapter she learns such attack isn’t anything unusual for Grisha:

“ ... Other countries don’t treat their Grisha so well as Ravka,” he said grimly. “The Fjerdans burn us as witches, and the Kerch sell us as slaves. The Shu Han carve us up seeking the source of our power. ... ”

Alina sees there’s a difference made between Grisha and other Ravkans, but never connects the dots. It doesn’t concern her, she’s doing the same after all.

She isn’t interested in situation, not only the wide picture, but more personal perspective- we don’t see her ask her “not-friends” anything about them. Their lives, families... You won’t hear a scary story if you won’t ask or listen...

She got study materials on Grisha history, but that's just that. Words on a paper. Something she repeats when she remembers she's supposed to be hunted, although the reasons don't quite click.

She goes from being prejudiced herself to staying that way. Why would she change? She went from denying being Grisha to being Saint and that’s a completely different thing. The only person she truly cares about is an otkazat’sya, so why would she consider wrongness of slurs and disdain?

She was told, but the Darkling "never tells the truth" and she doesn’t feel the need to ask anyone else.

She hears First Army soldiers insult Ivan for refusing to share information with them, and doesn't blink an eye.

She hears about First Army slaughtering Grisha, and thinks "good, I'd do the same".

She only cares about Grisha being potentially mistreated as long as it's the Darkling harming them (Genya's punishment, Grishenka in R&R).

When forced to face other harm partially caused by Grisha status of slaves in Ravkan society, the circumstances allow her to ignore that aspect (Genya's abuse).

I don’t think she needs anything more explicit. She’d just find the way to blame the Darkling, or forget it ever happened as soon as it was out of her sight.

Burned Grisha corpses?

Some foreign tradition. Or barbecue gone wrong...

Just look at her reaction to Harshaw's story in R&R:

I thought of the dream the Darkling had once had, that we might be Ravkans and not just Grisha. He’d tried to make a safe place for our kind, maybe the only one in the world. I understand the desire to remain free. Was that why Harshaw kept fighting? Why he’d chosen to stay? He must have shared the Darkling’s dream once. Had he given its care over to me?

Zoya's the one, to note how fucked up it is. Alina's concern is possible responsibility. There's no horror, there's no resolution to take over Aleksander's efforts. The goal remains the same- hunt down the Firebird, kill the Darkling, destroy the Fold.

Even when talking as Grisha, Alina doesn't act like one.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

#9 and #25 w/ Otis ?🫢🫠

Of course! Thank so so much for the request and as usual my apologies this took so long! The prompts requested for this one are as follows:

Prompt 9: "Run" Prompt 25: "Fuck you"

For future requests the prompt list is HERE

Notes: Minors DNI, No Specific descriptions of reader or pronouns are used.

TW: Canon typical violence, Otis Driftwood is pretty much his own trigger warning so just use your own discretion please <3

"Fuck you!"

You spat at Otis from your spot on the landing of the stairs. He fixed you with an incredulous look from his spot standing at the top of the stairs.

"Baby you better watch your goddamn mouth when your talking to me"

You rolled your eyes at him, you had been here long enough to know that when it came to you most of what Otis said was empty threats. You made Otis soft, something that Baby thought was absolutely hilarious.

"No Otis! Fuck you! You always do this shit to me. You get my hopes up and then get wrapped up in 20 other things"

You were angry with him because once again had he promised to you that he would take you out somewhere special and then when the day came he had gotten busy with 20 different things, half of which included his own "Projects".

"Bunny I fuckin' told you I don't know how goddamn sorry you want me to be. I have important shit I gotta do"

"I'm tired of being second in your life Otis"

You bit back a smile, your plan being employed. You knew how to get Otis where you wanted him. The only person in the entire world who knew how to work up the killer without becoming one of his victims.

"Sugar don't start with me"

"No Otis, I'm tired of it! If you won't do anything about it then maybe, maybe I'll just go find someone who has time for me then"

You saw Otis stiffen at your words. A thick tense fog of uncertain emotion falling between the two of at your standoff on the stairs. Hook, line and sinker, you got Otis exactly where you want him.

"The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I said maybe I'd just go find a man who'd give me his time"

Otis spat out a laugh as he slowly began descending the stairs toward you.

"Fine, If you think I don't have time for you I'll fuckin' show you time. Run."

As fast as the word had come out of his mouth you bolted. You breeze through the living room and out the front door. You heard Mama from some where behind you scolding Otis for the running in the house as usual when the two of you were up to your antics.

You shot out of the house and crossed the yard into the brush and trees. Though you knew deep down your attempts to flee were fleeting, Otis would catch up, he always did but you didn't care all too much. You wouldn't have it any other way.

The tall grass whipped against your legs as you ran through it. You dodged under tree limbs and over top of fallen trees until you found a small clearing with a large stump almost smack in the middle of it.

You sat, perfectly in the middle of the stump and waited for Otis. Yourself, presented to him like a gift as you stripped off your shirt and pants and leaned back onto your hands as you waited for him to appear in the brush.

Within a few moments there he was, standing between the trees that surrounded the clearing. His eyes raked up and down your body as he approached you, taking his time to make sure he took you in as much as possible.

You grinned up at him, taking a lip between your teeth.

"Is this enough time for you?"

Otis remarked as you stood from the stump to meet him halfway, Gently moving your discarded clothes off to the side as you stood.

"You know I wasn't actually that mad, It's just frustrating when your so busy and I wanna spend time with you"

"Yellin' at me ain't the way to fix it though"

"But it's the only way you'll hear me. Well, except when I'm like this"

You said motioning to your bare body, Otis smirked as he reached to place his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

"I'm a hardheaded motherfucker aren't I?"

"Otis Driftwood, you are the most stubborn man I've ever met"

"But you're still here aren't you?"

"As if I'd actually be allowed to leave"

"That's right, You're mine. Even if you left I'd hunt you down to the ends of the earth"

"I wouldn't wanna leave"

You whispered to him, despite the fact you were the only two in the clearing. You pressed your lips to his and he slipped his tounge into your mouth.

Otis pulled away after fighting for dominance of your mouth and smiled darkly at you.

"You know, I heard there's some bad men in these woods. You really shouldn't be out here naked like this. Who knows what could happen to you"

"mmm, bad men you say? what kind of bad men"?

"Men that would take advantage of little bunnies like you"

"That'd be a shame wouldn't it. You're not one of those bed men are you?"

"Oh sugar, I'm the worst"

You grinned up at him as you leaned in so your chest was against his still clothed one.

"Ya know, I was hoping you'd say that"

[gnpwdrnwhiskey]

Southern Inhospitality

Pairing - Dieter Bravo x ofc!Ava

Word Count - 1.7K

Warnings - God, I don't even know. Mentions of food, mentions of tense family gatherings and insecurities, just general Thanksgiving family gathering vibes....oh and also, hopefully Rhett & Scarlett don't mind I borrowed a few lines

Author's Note - this takes place like a year or two in the future of where Dieter and Ava currently are in the main story but it's pretty spoiler free. Big big thanks to @tinytinymenace for sending me this prompt for a first sentence fic thing. And to @wildemaven and @trulybetty as usual for cheerleading me through this lol! 💕

As he stepped on the escalator and descended into the arrivals terminal, he thought to himself, "this is the dumbest idea I've ever had."

Okay, maybe not the dumbest. He's Dieter Bravo, he's done a lot of dumb shit in his life. But this probably ranks right up there.

And Ava hadn't exactly invited him but when they'd talked the previous evening, she had said she missed him and that was pretty much the same thing right?

Besides, she'd sounded so miserable back in her family's clutches, it was like his duty or whatever to sweep in and rescue her. The last time she sounded that withdrawn- well, he doesn't like to think about it, but he'll be damned if they ever repeat it. Time for him to step up and white knight this shit.

He's starting to second guess the whole idea though as the Uber makes its way up the long oak lined drive, the massive magnolia tree taking up the majority of the front yard coming into view before the actual house does.

"Goddamn," he whispers to himself as the car comes to a halt in front of a true southern plantation house- fucking columns, gleaming black shutters, coach lights, rocking chairs and all.

What the hell has he gotten himself into he wonders as grabs his bag from the Uber and makes his way up the steps to the imposing front door and ringing the bell.

He's halfway expecting the door to be answered by a housekeeper or a butler or some shit and is surprised when it swings open to reveal a pre-teen boy in perfectly pressed khakis and a polo.

"Yeah?" The kid says nonchalantly, more interested in the phone in his hand than the actual guest at the door and Dieter catches a glimpse of chipped glitter nail polish as the boy's fingers fly over the keys.

"I'm looking for Ava. Ava Greene? Is this the right place?" He asks, sliding his Ray-Bans down his nose and trying to peer behind the kid into the house. "Or like the right fucking century? They know the south lost right?"

The kid looks up at Dieter and flashes him a mischievous grin and suddenly Dieter sees the family resemblance. At least he knows he's at the right house. Must be one of Drew's spawn.

"The news of the fall of the Confederacy has not yet reached the man of the house. We fear, due to his advanced age and frail condition, such a staggering blow may cause him to expire."

Dieter snorts out a laugh and the kid smiles even wider. "Welcome to Oak Hill," he says with a dramatic bow. "Please, do step inside and join us on this day when we celebrate the most problematic of American holidays."

"Harry! Who's at the door? You didn't let the Jehovah's Witnesses in again, did you??" Ava's voice comes from somewhere further in the house and Dieter finds himself automatically stepping inside as if drawn to her.

"They're actually here for you," Harry calls over his shoulder. "Something about how you've been living in sin with a cad and a scoundrel."

"Haha," Ava laughs. "Very funny, smart ass. Seriously, who's here?"

"Seriously, it's for you. Come see."

The tapping of heels on hardwood flooring comes closer and Dieter thinks maybe he's stepped not only into the wrong century but also into a completely alternate reality- Ava- his messy, wonderful, Converse wearing Ava, in heels?

His gaze starts at her feet as she comes into view and hot damn, she really is wearing a killer pair of pumps, then some long swirly plaid skirt he doesn't have a name for, crisp white button up, pearls at her ears and throat, hair pulled back in a complicated looking up-do.

"Harry, everyone I know is already here...." And then she catches sight of him standing behind Harry and he grins at the surprised expression on her face. "Dieter-- what are you doing here? What about your meeting?"

"I rescheduled. I should've never agreed anyway," he shrugs, reaching out to pull her into his arms and she goes willingly. "I shouldn't have let you come here by yourself."

"I told you it was fine, that'd I'd be fine," she says as she wraps her arms around him and leans into him. "I'm mostly fine."

"You're not fine, look at you," Dieter laughs, pulling away enough to hook a finger in the vee of her shirt, accidentally on purpose undoing one more tiny button and sneaking a peak. "You have a bra on. I didn't even know you owned one."

Ava snorts out a laugh and melts back into him, tucking her face into his neck and nipping at the skin there. "Behave, Bravo. We're amongst civilized company here."

"I'll try, but you do look like every sexy librarian fantasy I've ever had," Dieter whispers into her ear, hands sliding down her back to rest on the curve of her ass.

"You're an idiot," Ava whispers back, holding on to him a little bit tighter. "But I'm so glad you're here."

"Take your sunglasses off," Ava says as they walk hand in hand towards the family room.

"What?"

"We're inside. Pretend you're a normal person and take your sunglasses off."

"But why?"

"Are you high?"

"What? No!"

"Then take them off. Please do not make this any worse than it already will be. When we go in for dinner, sit up straight, keep your elbows off the table, mind your manners and take your sunglasses off."

And with that warning, she escorts him into the belly of the beast.

"We'll have one more guest for dinner," Ava announces to the room. "Most of you have already met Dieter, but I'll leave you to get reacquainted and set another place at the table."

"Play nice," Ava grins, leaning in to kiss his cheek and giving his hand a quick squeeze before scurrying out of the room like the traitor she is.

He can do this. He can. He's an Oscar winning actor for fucks sake. How bad can one family dinner possibly be?

Three hours later he's hating himself for putting that thought into the universe. Turns out it can be so, so incredibly bad.

Dinner itself was fine, delicious even- the turkey was moist, the potatoes were smooth and buttery, the pumpkin cheesecake was downright sinful.

But the conversation has been downright atrocious. If someone had given Conrad Greene a list of topics not to talk about at a family gathering, he's tried his damnedest to hit every single one of them.

He's watched Ava's mother masterfully try to steer them into safer conversational waters time and time again, he's listened to all the praise of Drew and the newspaper he can stomach while Ava's own accomplishments get brushed off as inconsequential and she withdraws farther and farther into herself. Even Harry is not exempt from his great grandfather's ire and he watches the bright eyed kid who'd met him at the door deflate like an old party balloon.

Dieter has always thought his own childhood was shitty, but it's nothing compared to this. Sure, he may have never known his dad and his mom may have ditched him, but between his grandparents and Ms. Rose, he'd never once felt anything less than accepted for exactly who he was. Or pressured to be someone he wasn't.

By the time the table is cleared and after dinner coffees are served, his back is starting to hurt from the damned uncomfortable dining chairs, his jaw hurts from clenching his teeth and his fucking knee hurts from how often Ava has dug her nails in to stop him from saying something he most likely shouldn't.

And he's had about enough. Of all of it.

"Are you staying here?" He leans in to ask Ava.

"No," she shakes her head. "I've been staying at Drew's."

"Great. Did you drive here separately?"

"Yeah, Harry wanted to ride in your Porsche."

"Even better. We're leaving," he announces, pushing his chair back from the table.

"Dieter--"

"We're leaving, Ava. Say your goodbyes and grab your things."

Ava leads Dieter up the side stairs and into the little loft apartment over Drew's garage where she used to live and where she's been staying for the last few days.

"I'm sorry. It didn't....it wasn't always like that," she says as she kicks off her heels. It's the first thing she's said since they left her grandfather's house and Dieter's heart aches for her.

"Ava, honey, you don't have anything to be sorry for. None of that shit is your fault. He's a bitter old man with fucked up ideas of how the world should work."

"Growing up....before my grandmother died....it was different. She tempered him I guess," she shrugs, taking off her pearls and tucking them safely in a little velvet pouch she puts in her make up bag.

"What was she like?" He asks, coming up behind her at the bathroom counter, beginning to hunt for and remove all the pins keeping her hair pulled back.

"She liked to cook and work in her garden, and take Drew and I bargain shopping. She was always smiling or laughing. A little bit mischievous. People gravitated to her. She would've liked you a lot."

"You think so?"

"I do," Ava smiles softly at him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "I wish she would've gotten to know Harry, she would've gotten a kick out of him."

"He's a pretty cool kid," Dieter grins. "Clever, quick-witted. You sure he's not actually yours?"

"Positive," Ava laughs, spinning to face him. "But I did spend a lot of time with him when he was younger. Guess I rubbed off on him."

"Hey, that's not a bad thing, you know that, right? You're incredibly brilliant, Ava. It's their loss if they can't see it."

"I know. I'm working on it...."

"And, you know what else?" he grins, cupping her face in his hands and adopting a ridiculous southern accent. "You deserve to be kissed and often and by someone who knows how."

"And I suppose you think you're the proper person?"

"I might be....if the right moment ever came."

"What about now, Rhett?"

"Thanks not your line, Scarlett."

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

"That's not your line either."

"Hey, Bravo....shut up and kiss me already."

And he does.

[clowningaroundmars]

still suffering from bad motorcity brainrot so my brain conjured up a funny ass scenario where the gang finally learns more about texas' family.

well, more than just "texas has a real big family"

based off of chris p's confirmation that texas was going to have cerebral parents who are the exact opposite of him

Chuck shuffles in on socked feet to the pile of Burners casually lounging in their main living room area and chatting.

Mike is of course the first one to interrupt the conversation and greet him, noticing all the screens his best friend had pulled up. Then, when a semi-preoccupied Chuck didnt immediately answer back, Mike sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees.

"Hey, Chuckles. I said good morning!"

Chuck looked up suddenly, as if just realizing where he was.

"O-OH yeah hey guys, morning ahaha..." Chuck ran a nervous hand through his hair, revealing a furrowed brow that Mike immediately noticed.

"What's with all the screens so early in the day? You're usually halfway through breakfast before pulling one of those up," Mike chided jokingly.

"Uh so, like, late last night--"

"Morning. you mean early in the morning," Mike grinned, and then exclaimed when Chuck reached for a pillow to toss at his face.

"Last night..." Chuck continued, "I noticed something going on with the east gate. It's weird, the battery we found should have been full enough to last us 'til the end of the year but uh... yeah it's totally drained now, guys." By now, Chuck was taking a seat next to Mike and letting his friend lean into his space to study the screens. "And I was lookin' at the new motion sensors we installed recently and it seems like it drained fast right after someone... or something moved near it a couple nights ago."

"Yeah but if someone's trying to siphon off battery power from the gates, that could be a real big problem in the future," Dutch put in.

Julie waggled her head, considering Chuck's words. "Could be a lot of things, honestly. That fusion battery wasn't really meant to last long anyways, it was only a temporary fix at the time."

Texas kicked his legs in the air from where he laid on a beanbag at everyone's feet. "Wait, the eastern gate? Isn't that gate the one that was havin' problems that one time Kane busted in like about a year ago?" He crunched on some mystery substance in a plastic container.

Most likely something from Jacob's kitchen.

Mike laughed. "The very same, buddy."

"Tch'aaww that gate's lame. It keeps breakin' all the time! I wouldn't be surprised if it's just old and basically turning into total junk."

Julie turned to Mike and Dutch. "Y'know, he might be right--"

"Duh, Texas is always right!"

"...That gate really does have some history. It was the first offically maintained entrance into Motorcity years ago when Deluxe was first being built. I'm pretty sure Kane abandoned it on purpose after our crazy battle with those Ultra Golems."

Mike shook his head. "So he most likely cut the power from that gate then, huh. Makes sense why the battery's almost dead! That's a lot of heavy lifting for only one battery."

Chuck stopped typing on his screens for a second. "Why didn't we just scavenge for a newer battery after you beat that big robot Kane sent in? We secured that gate after, didnt we?"

Dutch and Julie smirked at each other.

"Someone might've gotten a bit distracted by an opportunity that ended up bein' a little too good to be true," Dutch elbowed Mike.

Mike guffawed and immediately tried to downplay the mistake. "Aw man, I mean yeah-- that, aaannd also we got that distress call from Doc Hudson not long after, too... so I mean--"

"Mmnn yeah, gotcha." Chuck deadpanned, returning back to triple-checking his maps and motion sensor logs.

"Anyways," Texas cuts in, "that gate's old an' dusty. It totally needs an overhaul, Texas-style. Hoo-WAH!!" He kicks his legs in the air in a flurry and uses the hand not holding his container to do a quick karate chop.

Everyone looks at him.

"Texas," Dutch starts patiently, "we're not construction workers, man. That's up to the Motorcity council to decide when the whole thing gets fixed now. I'm pretty sure they'd know about the power being cut off by now."

"Yeah, they should since I just pinged one of the council members about it too," Chuck piped up.

Texas shakes his head like a father explaining something to a child who isn't understanding what he's saying at all. "Yeah duh I know, guys, I'm not dumb!"

Dutch bites back a mean retort. Julie smirks again behind a carefully placed hand.

"I could just go to my mom and tell her everything! Then she can just send her construction worker dudes to tear down the thing and like, I dunno, hook it up to our own power supply or whatever. No effort on our part!" He flexes an arm casually.

A pause.

Mike was the first to speak up. "Wait, what? Your mom?"

"Uh, yeah, you guys didnt know my mom's head of the council?"

Dutch does a double take. "Head of the council?!"

"Yeah, Stretch. Head of the Motorcity council! She's been leadin' it since I was like a tiny Texas baby. She just keeps gettin' re-elected, heh. Makes sense since she's cleaned up and expanded a lot of stuff, I guess."

"...And she gave birth to you?!"

Texas, as usual, lets the insult sail right over his head. "I know right? Both my parents are totally lame and boring. Not like Texas, hwa-CHAA!! They don't know anything about martial arts movies, sweet Muay Thai kicks or Texasifyin' stuff! They just wear boring suits and go to like a million meetings! My dad's not like in city council or whatever but he's a uh... a... what's-it-called. An archic-tech. He doesn't even build the stupid buildings and junk, he just designs 'em."

Mike elbowed Dutch back, hissing "dude!" under his breath. Chuck snorted.

Everyone stares for a couple of seconds, Dutch rubbing his chin in disbelief.

"Wait, your dad's an architect?" Chuck asks incredulously.

Texas shrugs and stuffs his mouth with the mystery food. "Yeah? I thought I told you guys all about this!"

Mike leans forward and asks Texas directly, "does your dad only design buildings? Or does he help your mom with the city planning too?"

Texas munches for a few seconds before answering. "Mnnyeah, he's like... he plans and draws pretty much everything in Motorcity, like where the hotels and shops and stuff can go. He designed the whole downtown area I think. Obviously they're not done fixin' up the place, but the public bathhouse was his idea, so."

"He's an urban planner, Texas! Wow, not just an architect either, he does both!" Julie admires out loud.

Dutch leans back on the couch dramatically and sighs. "The bathhouse, oh damn."

Everyone took a quick second to reminisce about their trip to the bathhouse with fond smiles. It was a gorgeous Greek-inspired building as tall and beautiful as it was comforting, a recent addition to the bustle of downtown Motorcity. It had sleek marble walls, cozy alcoves for private meetups, grand staircases seemingly everywhere and polished golden accents gleaming in every corner.

The building was split into two sections with a giant-- and equally beautiful-- indoor garden separating the halves, and a courtyard with a net in the middle stationed out back for friendly games of volleyball or tennis. The bath itself sat like a reigning king in the front, right past the fancy lobby and locker rooms. In the back half, the indoor pool stayed open for swimming only in the summer. During the cold winter months the pool was frozen and turned into a makeshift ice skating rink.

Both pool and bath were massive and alive day after day with Motorcitizens relaxing after a hard day's work, meeting up with friends, or just taking the kids out to a fun day of swimming.

It was everyone's favorite spot to relax and hang out during chilly days thanks to the saunas as well.

Motorcity's gang members have officially sectioned the bathhouse and the immediate area off as a neutral zone, strictly banning violence and disputes from there. That decision was introduced by Julie and quickly adopted after everyone figured it'd be hard to tell which member was from which gang when they were all naked.

Knowing that Texas' father-- of all people-- was the man most likely responsible for that slice of heaven in an otherwise grimy and dark city was... well, it was weird.

"So," Chuck said, scratching his head, "your dad designs things and your mom orders the funds around. For, like, the whole city."

"Yyyup." Texas answers.

"Sooo... what does the rest of your family do?"

Texas takes a minute to think. "My grandma owns a shop downtown. All my sisters are out studying with people, doin' apprenticeships n' stuff. They mostly like to build and program stuff, one of them's over at the Cablers' right now. Oh yeah, my oldest sister is in a band! She's the lead guitarist and everything! She's badass, like Texas."

Dutch nods slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Uh huh. Mhm. This idiot's family is super smart and accomplished. Now I've seen everything."

Mike huffs out a laugh. "Wow, Tex. That's uhm... yeah, that's great! Think we can shoot your parents a quick message and maybe pass along some ideas?"

"I've got tons of ideas for a more efficient electrical wiring system!! With better security in place too! And a failsafe just in case!" Chuck blurts out. He then realizes his excitement and leans back self-consciously. "AHA-- ahem, that is if they're uh, if they're, y'know-- if it's not too much to impose on them, of course!"

Mike smiles warmly at Chuck and turns back to Texas. "No, I think they'd probably love the help, right Tex?"

Texas guffaws, spewing a few crumbs everywhere. "Tchyyyeaah!! Texas' parents are always so dang busy all the time like... ugh. Yeah, Skinny over here would probably be their favorite guy for a while just for takin' on some o' the work."

Chuck grins and opens up a new screen with some schematics, and gets right to work.

[b-00-biez]

I ADORE YOUR WRITING

please please can you do bo sinclair with a naive reader (not super naïve) basically corruption and praise

AWWWW thank you🤭💕 And omg bo sinclair🫣 How scandalous! And I'm so sorry, I'm so late on this 😭 Holidays are the only thing that keeps me sane through this year

"You're Mine!"

Warning:Absolutely Filthy Smut

Character: Bo Sinclair x Readers, Grumpy x Sunshine

When you came to Ambrose you were just a ball of sunshine and rainbows. Bo does not know how to feel about you being here, he adores you and would keep you from harm aka himself. You were always by his side like a lost puppy and the way you look at him. It was so erotic to him, like he wants to take you right then and there and the fact that you were naive makes him go crazy. The way you smiled and trusted him. He wants you all to himself and not even his brother can have you.

Since he didn't want anyone to have you he has smoothly talked his way into your heart which was very easy. Now you're in a relationship with this guy for about a week and half. Both of you havent mentioned sex yet waiting for each other to be comfortable for the idea. Shockingly Bo is being patient for you.

You were both chilling on the couch snuggled up and watching some movies. Since you were new to this relationship thing, you told him right then and there that you were a virgin. Oh y/n that's a big mistake letting this man know that you never fucked anyone ever. You saw him form a smile and felt something rise between his legs. His ego was bursting, He will be your first and hes going to be the only one who gets to fuck you mercilessly. Seeing how he reacted you felt your inner thigh heat as you felt wet, it was your first time having this kind of reaction.

Bo pinned you down on the couch "Do you want me to show you how it's done?" he smirked. You, feeling intrigued and feeling aroused by him you said yes. You felt his warm hands unbuttoning your shirt as he slides his rough fingers on your delicate skin. You felt his passionate kiss on the lips smashing his mouth onto yours as he unbuckles your pants.

You're now halfway naked, he looks at you like a hungry lion staring at your body like a meal. You felt awe but that feeling went away as he slapped your inner thighs harshly. You yelped as he put your legs up high and pushed your panties aside and started pushing his three fingers in. "BO! IM NOT READY!!" You screamed and moaned loudly as your pussy stretched. You started wiggly away but he pins your body down with his other arm. You felt a pain and pleasure as you felt a knot formed on your stomach and then you came on his fingers before you knew it. It was so easy for you to cum and he will use you how he pleases today.

He unbuckles his pants and turns you upside down on the couch as he stands up. Placing his veiny member on your face slapping your cheek with it. "Suck me off." he commands you as he holds your throat and starts pounding your throat. You moaned softly as your mouth is stuffed. He puts his hands to your pussy, just displaying in front of his eyes. he stops fucking your throat, he messages your wet puffy clit . You can't help but start deepthroating his member on and on as your pussy gets overstimulated again. He pushes in two fingers into your cunt and plays with your clit with his thumb . He thrusts his dick into your throat pinning you down and fucking your slutty mouth. He grunts and starts cumming. Then you felt your high too as you pussy squirted on his face. Your mind is blank, This was the best pleasure you had ever experienced.

He pulls out his fingers and replaces them with his twitching cock. Before you could open your eyes you felt his tip rubbing against the entrance. You yelped "No no no! It's not going to fit!" You squirmed again but you knew you weren't going anywhere until he was satisfied. " You're doing so well, but you gotta be ready cause you'll be fucked hard and screaming my name tonight. And i will not fucking rest until i hear you scream. He pushed his dick in and started pounding your pussy. He puts your legs on his shoulders and goes even deeper. You felt your cervix getting abused by his large cock, You held your voice back, moaning softly into your palm. You hear the slap of his balls on your ass as he goes faster. "I CAN'T TAKE IT!" you screamed and held onto the cushions. You felt a knot formed again, your poor pussy being abused like a slut. He fucks you deep as you start to squirt on his thigh and dick. You screamed in a shivering orgasm but didnt scream his name.

Bo getting a little frustrated roughly pushes you down on your stomach and starts pounding from the back. Beating your ass and spanking it with his rough hands. "IT HURTS!" You screamed as you came again but this time he didnt fucking stop, He s not giving you a break like you wanted. tears formed in your eyes as you moaned loudly from overstimulation. He grabbed your hair and screamed"SAY MY NAME PRINCESS!" you moaned his name again and again as he fucks your wet and shivering pussy as you came again and again on his cock. "BO FUCK ME MORE! I WANT YOUR HUGE COCK, I WANT MORE BO!"

He carries you to the bedroom as he whispers sweet praises into your ear as he impatiently fucks all the way to the bedroom . You were his slut and his cumdumpster and you're eagerly waiting for this man's cum. " You're mine darling right?" "Yes, I'm yours!" You answered covered in his cum as you shiver in multiple orgasms.