#smitty was a big surprise man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slut4sway · 2 years

Note

Hall/Smith there was only one bed pleek

someone lit from within

blurring out my periphery

my smile is like i won a contest

and to hide that would be so dishonest

and it’s fine to fake it till you make it

til you do, til it’s true

and it’s like snow on the beach

weird but fuckin beautiful

🎧••••••••••••••••••••••••••••🫙

and they were roommates

tags : sharing a bed, getting together, friends to lovers, crush denial/internalized hatred, awkward, bro cuddling, fluff, requested, breakup recovery, taylor hall/craig smith, bruins ensemble

notes : i’ve never written this rare pair hope it’s all good!!

the boys were in new york for an away game, tensions were high as the rangers were playing pretty good this season. it’s been a rough couple of weeks for the entire team; but especially smith. he’s had some pretty nasty shit go down with his ex girlfriend and another guy. poor guy hasn’t been able to sleep for more than 3 hours without waking up on the verge of tears. everything’s been kind of difficult, with all the stress of the team and working out roomates hassle. because he zoned out, craig ended up sharing a room with taylor because everyone else had made arrangements to share a room with their best friends, and maybe the boys just figured. honestly, was it a blessing or a curse? he’s had a heart-wrenching crush on his best friend for years, but knowing he couldn’t have him made everything a living hell. he’s tried to deny it; get a girlfriend as a cover up but it just seemed to make matters worse, bottling up his emotions like that. something in taylor and the way he treated him just put him in a chokehold.

“okay there, bud?” the canadian beside him called out. craig had been so obviously pondering over something, and obviously caught taylor’s attention.

“um- great. just thinking… i guess” he awkwardly fibbed. he was definitely not fine. being in love with taylor and his ex still running through his mind stressed him out.

“you don’t look okay.. i can tell when your lying, smitty.” god that stupid nickname. taylor replied, tilting his head to match the angle of his friends.

“really i’m fine..” craig responded, slightly irritated by his observation. really he didn’t want to be ‘not okay’.

“cmon, i can tell. what’s on your mind? is it your ex?” the younger man interrogated, determined to find the reason to his friends stoic yet tense expression.

smith silently nodded his head. why did he absolutely despise the way he knew? he didn’t want him to know the real reason. he wasn’t completely lying, though. his ex was still running around his mind.

“she was a fucking bitch. i hated her im sorry but it had to be said. maybe this would be a good time to tell you i never got a good feeling about her but i just- wanted to keep you happy.” taylor insulted, following up with a confession.

craig clenched his jaw at his swears, but mostly of all his secret he had released so non-chalantly. he seriously wanted to keep him happy? he really wanted to say how much he hated big, dumb taylor. how he hated his best friend. how he hated he loved him more than a friend should. how he hated him and how he cared so much. how he didn’t tell him the truth just so he could stay content. but he hated most of all how he didn’t hate him. how he wishes he could just tell him he belonged with taylor. but those words would never be said, right?

“maybe you were right. i kind of knew you didn’t like her.” smith trailed off, still staring off into the passing trees as the bus rolled down the slow transition from trees to the mountains of barely upstate new york.

“i’m sorry for bringing her up.. on the bright side i’ve got you as a a roommate again” taylor tried to lighten the mood. he rested a hand on the older man’s knee, pushing out an awkward apology. maybe that made things worse.

craig tensed up at the touch, he hoped he didn’t hear him right. it wasn’t really a surprise they were going to be staying in the same room, but ever since the breakup hes wanted taylor more than ever. scared to say or do something he might regret, he just looked away at his sleeping teammates.

•••

the drive was long and dreary, the dead of winter in new york was not pretty at all. city traffic of downtown manhattan wasn’t much better. it felt like a release as soon as they pulled up to their hotel, looking up at the industrial style and sleek structure. the bus came to a quiet halt, the loss of movement in the vehicle breaking the constance of the boys’ naps.

“fucking new york.. i hate it here” fliggy groaned in the back.

“it’s not that bad.. i mean it could be worse right?” mcavoy chimed in.

“well you think so cause you grew up like half an hour from here or whatever the fuck-“ waking fliggy from his nap and speaking to him wasn’t the smartest decision.

smith tuned out the bickering in the background, as he got out of his seat to stretch. taylor followed, as he brought his arms over his head and released the pressure. craig subtly took a glance at his exposed midriff, keeping the picture of his happy trail and tanned abs in his mind. what the hell was he thinking? this was gonna be a long night.

taylor rubbed his stubble, cracking his neck while he trodded off the bus. he followed craig into the building.

“i’ll get us checked in with the boys, alright? just go take a minute.. i know things are uh- pretty rough right now.” he told smith. everything just felt more awkward, they weren’t the friends they were when smith had just ignored his feelings. it seemed like taylor knew, the way he bit his lip to self soothe seemed to tell craig everything he needed to know but left him with so many questions.

smith just gave him a thankful glance before he trudged over to a seating area by a semi enclosed sun room. the sky grew dull, more so than it had been on the drive here. darker as well, as the evening progressed. raindrops started to trickle down onto the glass. a thousand thoughts came rushing into his head the second he sat down, it was so overwhelming it almost made him dizzy. he couldn’t be left alone with his own thoughts, not now. he dropped his head into his hands propped up on his knees, running a hand through his hair. the ambient sound of people walking and speaking slowly faded, his mind just getting even louder. finally it was interrupted.

“smitty, you feelin okay?” taylor asked, eyeing the way his body language subtly perceived his mood.

“i got it all figured out, the doormen are even bringing our bags up. it’s gonna be okay, i swear”

the way he spoke to him so patiently just sparked something inside of the older man. why did he have to be in love with his best friend? of all people, for fucks sake.

“yeah, thank you; sorry really i’ve just been out of it.” he rasped, wiping away some sneaking tears from his eyes.

“don’t apologize, please bud.. just come up to the room we can talk about it there alright?” taylor coerced, canadian accent laying in quite thick; more than normal.

smith nodded, biting the inside of his cheek as he stood up from the cushioned seat and followed his friend to the elevator. everything just seemed like a blur, one second he was pressing the call button and the next they were at the door to their room. was he really that disoriented?

taylor inserted the key into the reader, as it clicked open with a green light. he stepped into the room and flicked the light on. their bags were already neatly laid out in a corner. he studied the room and the way it was decorated but then it hit him; there was only one queen sized bed.

“fuck..” smith whispered under his breath. this day couldn’t have gotten any worse, but now he had to share a bed with his best friend and the man he’s loved in secret for years.

“i’ll take the floor-“ he blurted out. he didn’t want this to be more awkward than it already was, given how they both weren’t really their bubbly, dumb selves.

“no, smitty. don’t make it weird. it’s a big bed, we can just share” taylor suggested. maybe he didn’t realize that two 6”1 men would have to barely be able to lay comfortably in a mediocrely sized bed.

“fine.” craig didn’t really want to protest. he sighed and made a beeline to his bags to the bathroom. maybe cause he was just tired. or maybe he’s been wanting this all along and he didn’t want to say anything.

they both went their seperate ways in the spacious room. smith made his way over to his own duffel bag and searched for a change of clothes. he picked out some grey sweats and thumbed through the folded clothes for a pair of boxers. he unzipped another compartment and took a pair of fluffy socks. he got up off his knees to his feet and turned the corner to the door to the bathroom. the automatic light turned on as the fan whirred to life. he flicked on the light that outlined the large circular mirror and took a look around at his surroundings. he set down his clothes and pulled a folded towel from the shelf. turning on the shower, it heated up quickly and the steam began fill the room and make his tired head spin. he groaned quietly, rubbing his eyes as he started to slip off each article of remaining clothing until he was bare. he stepped into the hot stream of water pouring from the rainfall shower head. it seemed like forever, those past couple of minutes. he just thought of his interactions with taylor and how awkward they were. he missed when they could fuck around and be themselves with the aftersilence feeling intimate instead of awkward. the past couple of weeks felt like everything was falling apart, nothing was as it once was. these thoughts filled his head as he let the hot water turn his carved body red. after breathing in the thick air for a while, it seemed to give him a false high. maybe this gave him the motivation to actually get cleaned up so he can maybe decide if sharing a bed with his friend was a blessing or a sign from hell. he pumped some shampoo out of the bottle mounted on the wall and lathered it into his dark, soaked hair. he massaged it to his scalp, excess rinsing off along with letting the water rinse off his head and all the product out of his hair. following the same procedure with conditioner, but while waiting for it to set he scrubbed his body with sage scented body wash.

after what seemed like forever, he finally let the water run all over him and rinse off the all the soap. the constant sound of water running suddenly stopped with a creak of the faucet handle turning. craig stepped out of the shower onto a fluffy white bathmat that absorbed each stray droplet of water. he wrapped the towel around his waist and turned towards the fogged up mirror to his left, drying it with one of the smaller towels. he took another folded up different sized towel and wrung out all of the excess, now cold water from his hair. the remaining steam in the room just seemed to make him more dizzy than he already was. smith ran his hands through his dark, silky flow, separating and fluffing up parts that were slicked back with water. after fixing his hair he slipped on the pair of plaid boxers and let the waistband snap to his hips. following, he stepped into his sweatpants and pulled them up just below his waistband. mindlessly just muscle memory as he just slid on the fluffy socks.

taylor scrolled through some random shows on netflix, resting his head on a stack of pillows with an arm slung over his waist and another holding the remote. his attention was lapsed from the endless scrolling on the tv to the smith walking out of the bathroom as steam billowed from the doorway.

“holy shit, smitty.. you were in there for like an hour and a half!” he nervously laughed, studying the redness on his shoulders.

“really? i didn’t feel like i-“ smith was interrupted by the sight of his best friend laid out on the bed, tanned abs, v line, grey sweatpants, the way his overdue-haircut messy flow fell perfectly over his forehead; the whole deal. he could have sworn he turned as red as a god damn fire truck with the way blood rushed to his cheeks and drifted all the way to his chest. he’d always seen taylor shirtless, but it was just different this time.

“alright there?” the younger man questioned, his casual expression turning worried.

“mhm. just… dizzy from the hot shower i guess-“ he lied, trying to make an excuse for how flustered he got.

“oh, fuck.” taylor swore under his breath as he glided of the bed and hurried over, gently taking hold of his friends wrists as he snaked a hand up to his bicep.

“just sit down alright? i’ll get you something to drink.” he said, leading smith to the bed. the dark haired man just let him move his body, head overloaded with his lingering thoughts and everything to do with his best friend.

taylor made sure he got comfortable on the bed while he fumbled in the mini fridge under the tv for some juice to bring him back to full awareness. he rushed over to his side, climbing back to his spot next to him. maybe he was too close for being “just friends”. he softly passed him the small bottle of chilled apple juice.

smith fixed his dull eyes to his ever so gentle calloused hands that rested on his inner thigh and passed him the juice.

“drink some, for me?”

taylor unscrewed the cap to the small bottle, as he laced their fingers together with each of their free hands, caressing his hand with his thumb. were both of them so sure they were and always will be “just friends”?

“damn you really turn into a mother as soon as i get sick, or hurt, or some bullshit like this.” the older man teased, if he hadn’t said this maybe taylor wouldn’t pull his hand away and turned so red.

“i mean- you’re my best friend and like.. i didn’t realize.. just fucking drink it smith.” taylor retaliated, taking his hands off him. there it is. there’s the returning awkwardness.

the ends of the dark haired man’s lips uncurled, as he shifted his gaze from their hands to the wall, taking a sip. unbeknownst to we’re taylor’s hands were. he didn’t want to imagine them anywhere else but on him. some random netflix show was playing in the background, maybe continuing from the trailer. he mindlessly downed the small bottle, reaching over taylor to put the empty glass bottle on the nightstand. more and more thoughts just came running to his head, yelling and screaming and reminders that he fucked up with his ex, and just made this situation silent agony. his eyes grew slightly glassy. he tried to blink away some tears but it seemed to just make them fall from his eyes.

“hey, hey, don’t cry.. it’s okay” taylor cooed to him like a child, as he noticed a change in smiths face. he kind of already caught on to why he was upset. he turned his head and shifted so he could face him.

“i’m- oh my god, tay; it’s all my fucking fault.. if i were good enough maybe she would have stayed.. if i were better she could still be here” he sobbed into his hands, just letting out every emotion he’s been holding in.

“don’t you ever talk down on yourself like that, smitty” taylor said harshly but somehow turned his tone to be forgiving in a way.

“it’s her fault she couldn’t see what i see, you’re more than enough. you don’t need validation from a woman, you’re too good for her and she didn’t deserve you at all” he reassured.

“..what you see? whaddya mean?” craig questioned, a chill running down his back.

“i mean.. where do i even start? you’re my best friend, you have such nasty flow; like come on she couldn’t do better if she tried! and you’re just such an amazing person i cant put it into words. i love everything about you and nobody could compare. smitty you’re so perfect and don’t you ever forget that, hear me?” compliment after compliment, taylor really poured his heart out even if they weren’t as deep of words as he meant them to be.

the “perfect” and “i love everything about you” just played over and over again in smiths head. if he meant it platonically or more than that would remain a mystery for the time being. the tears still fell from his puffy eyes. damn it, taylor made his life so complete but so difficult.

“i- i honestly don’t even know what to say back”

“you don’t have to, just let it all out”

and with that statement he did. he let out all his hopeless sobs and whines, falling into taylor’s gentle embrace. his salty tears fell from his glassy eyes to either taylor’s shoulder or off the sharp of his jaw onto his friends pectorals. he gripped onto taylor’s back so hard his fingers probably turned white.

“i’m here, i got you” taylor continued to reassure him, massaging the back of the brunettes head as he wrapped an arm around his trembling body. smith really had a hold on his back, but anything for his best friend really.

“fuck i’m not gonna be able to sleep after this”

“what can i do to help, i’ll do anything i can” the younger man warmly said to the crying man in his arms.

“just.. hold me” smith asked, quite hit or miss of him.

“i mean.. yeah if bro cuddling helps i’m fine with it” the canadian hesitated, but he really would go to so many lengths to keep his friend happy.

smith silently cheered and mentally jumped up and down like a happy little kid. maybe this was his awakening he didn’t have to deny it anymore. he shifted his position so taylor could get comfortable. they both lied flat on the bed as taylor finally turned off the tv in the background and flipped off the lights, just leaving the dim glow from the city skyline in the window that shone onto their faces. his nose grazed the tender skin of taylor’s neck, as his skin tensed under his touch. smith gently slung a leg over his thigh, taking in every second as taylor wrapped his chiseled arms around him. minutes of silence passed.

“tay, can i be dead honest with you?” he sort of choked through tears. finally he took a real risk.

“always, what’s up” taylor rasped, making blazing eye contact with him from their close position.

“this is really hard for me to say but i feel like you really should know and like..” smith sucked back a little bit, just beating around the bush.

“go ahead, i’m listening” the younger man said with a sleepy tone.

every one of taylor’s words just sent a new shock through his body.

“i mean.. i kind of- like i.. i’ve had feelings for you since you were signed. i got a girlfriend as a cover up and maybe i got a little too wrapped up in it but.. now i’m not really gonna ignore my issues anymore. it’s been bothering me for a while but just got worse since the breakup; and that’s why i’ve been acting so off, i’m really sorry i didn’t tell you before..” smith finally confessed, took him long enough as he ended his rambling and bit his lip to self soothe. he couldn’t bare to hold eye contact after what he just said, so he decided to stare off into the skyline.

“wow.. smitty. i’m really proud of you for being able to say that.. and now that i know for sure you’ve got a thing for me it would probably be a good time to tell you there’s a reason ive been turning everyone down, because honestly it’s always been you; you’re all i want and all i need, smitty” he finally confessed. the younger man gently stroked his soon to be lovers hair, rubbing his back and tracing hearts and shapes on his smooth bare skin lovingly.

“hallsy i-“ smith was already emotional, and this news just made his tears of pain turn into happiness. he shifted his weight so he was lying atop taylor. he released his right grip on his back and ran his hands up the the nape of his neck, twirling the ends of his hair.

taylor didn’t have to say much. he gently took cupped his cheek and brought him down to his level. the amount of want smith had cooled down. now they were just in each others presence and nothing felt rushed. their lips barely brushed one another, just feeling their lungs expand under them until they finally closed the centimeter of space between them. there was nothing that had to be finished by a deadline. just them. the kids was soft and sweet, nothing rough could come of it. the warmth of their tongues collided, sharing each others saliva as their prolonged kiss took their breath. smith rested his forehead on taylor’s, pulling away to catch his breath. the way his full lips felt against his was something different and unmatched. they made eye contact, even with heavy, half lidded gazes. taylor caressed his back, a hand rested just beneath his waistband on his hip and another cupping his cheek.

“i don’t think you understand how long i’ve wanted you, i don’t ever wanna imagine having to go back to a time when you weren’t mine.” smith told, almost going cross eyed from the way they were looking at each other.

“i’m here now, i’m all yours my love” taylor said breathlessly, connecting them once again; their lips making contact as needed. it was so right, the way their bodies fell together like a puzzle piece.

“god you get me so high” smith whined through the kiss, until they finally parted for air. taylor still continued to whisper sweet nothings and leave constant stray kisses along his neck. he finally relaxed his muscles and melted onto the younger man’s body.

“tay.. what are we now?” the brunette asked, his stubble rubbing against taylor’s jawline.

“i mean would you do this with someone who’s not your boyfriend? cause then i think you have your answer, smitty.” the canadian warmly spoke.

smith just chuckled at his snarky comment, now the after silence didnt feel so awkward. maybe things were going back to normal because they are supposed to be each others normal. the silence finally felt intimate again. he felt taylor play with his hair and fold over his waistband. his touch just made him relaxed enough to fall asleep slowly. he struggled to stay awake , no light in the room besides the downtown manhattan glow.

notes : denial is a river in egypt.

#boston bruins #bruins #soft fic #me n him fr #requested #taylor hall #craig smith #rare pair #friends to lovers #this made me happy #C R A I G #mlm #hockey rpf

4 notes · View notes

isca-tide · 2 months

Text

4x09 Lucy being so excited for Nolan. Literal sunbeam of goodness. Though personally I'm with Nolan, none of this over the top proposal planning stuff. Make sure you're on the same page (an engagement isn't a surprise, a proposal is), figure out what they like (public, private etc) and bingo. But I'm also terminally single so... Okay but how married. How married! She's helping her co-worker and his sister do manual labour in their childhood home on her day off. LITERAL SUNBEAM. Did Tim ask her? Did Genny? Did Lucy just offer and Tim couldn't say no? Did she offer Genny and just turned up and Tim's just stood there and doesn't know what's going on or why his wife is here and what are these feelings no stamp them back down, Bradford. Fic? Anyone? The look Genny gives Lucy. 'Well, this is your secret-not-so-secret-husband sorry but you chose this idiot to fall in love with'

Yes, Nyla. Exactly. Though honestly I don't see Lucy being one for a big public proposal. It doesn't seem in her character but maybe she's just caught up in the idea of it. God it seems soon though. I know that Bailan is endgame, I doubt they'll have them divorce or anything, but...it feels like they've barely been together. There's also just not a lot of chemistry between them. He's had chemistry with so many people, even the ones he wasn't dating. Just seems a bit forced. But it's not the worst. Just...eh. Tamara just being everyone's adopted daughter. Yes. Good. I approve. Grey don't put your granddaughter with Smitty, c'mon. It's for school!

The fact that Tim immediately gets Lucy to go with him to look into the gun. I really doubt he technically needs her help, but it's like he doesn't even process the idea of doing something like this without her. They're instantly in work mode, and they work well together.

Really, under a rug, Wesley? Oh this won't end well. Ah well, okay, I guess the rug wasn't an issue. Papa Grey going to get his son-in-law home safe.

Tim's little smile with Lucy. Ugh. It's going to actually kill me when I have to watch through S6 properly isn't it? And the first half of S5. I need a new fixation until January. I can't put all my obsessive eggs in this Chenford basket until the series starts again. But the looks Lucy gives Tim. It's not pity. She just so desperately wants to help him. Watching Tim with his father hurts so much. Did he ask Lucy to come with him the last time he visits? Did she offer and he couldn't bring himself to say no? There must be some fics out there of that conversation - or lack of conversation. Just little glances and comfort. I noticed he leaves the door open this time. Even when he manages to stand up to his dad the second time, you can still see that fear in him. Making sure he has an easy escape. His backup, Lucy, close to hand if he needs her. God the hug. The way he's so terrified about the Tim tests and how he's probably been fixating on what Lucy said in the shop however many days ago. And she realises that and sees him so vulnerable and ready to back away and put his walls up again, and then she just offers that hug and that lifeline of comfort and he melts right into it completely and utterly. uuuugh my heaaart. Okay I don't trust Elijah not to have set this all up with Abril. I don't know how this storyline actually turns out, but yeah, I'm not buying it. Man is up to something. Tim you sweet little angel. He's trying so hard. He's come such a long way.

Okay but I do like Abril a bit I'm sorry I can't help it. Okay okay but hilarious that Tamara is just there listening in while they're talking about all this important police stuff. I know she's trusted but this station really needs to lock things down a bit better.

Ah, the famous Jason. Again, I know most of the storylines but if it didn't involve Lucy or Chenford I didn't really pay attention.

#isca rambles #isca prompts

1 note · View note

my-shields-are-down · 2 years

Note

Chenford + pregnancy announcement

Late one winter afternoon, Tim was lounging in their chocolate brown corduroy double chair/ottoman thing that Lucy made him buy when they moved in together. He originally thought it was weird and lame, but it’s now his favorite spot - super comfy, and his 6’2” frame fits on it, even lying down. Lucy keeps buying cuddly blankets and throws - she had a problem really - because she said she was always cold after they did naughty naked things on the chair - and he pats himself on the back because they do a lot of naked naughty things there. The red fleece throw covering him smells like her causing him to smile.

Tim is lounging in an LAPD threadbare shirt his TO made for him after that graffiti artist tagged his shop twice and boxers covered on tubas and trombones that Lucy got him when she moved into his home.. Thankfully the rainbow “Eagle Eye” iron on letters had mostly come off. He is very relaxed. You know that feeling when you are happy, and comfortable and just fucking grateful for all your blessings? That’s how Tim felt right now.

Tim lifted up the arm-rest and pulled out an ice cold beer from the cooler Smitty of all people had installed - he knew a guy. He was kind of but not really watching the Kings game. He was a football man. He thought hockey was soccer on ice. Pffff. Stupid sport. He glanced around the room - his eye catching all the Lucy touches he saw. The orange wall, the Asian art, the bookcases, the plants, the stereo/record player and actual vinyl records, the wall of pictures of their friends and families and places they been to. There was still plenty of him in the room - the massive tv, hardwood floors, their boasting wall covered now in awards and articles, Kojo’s dog bed, the gas fireplace and big wall of windows looking out over his back yard.

Tim smelled Lucy before he could see her - her signature jasmine scent reached him first - causing him to sigh. She climbed over the back of the chair wearing thigh highs and an oversized USC sweatshirt and snuggled next to him under the blanket. “Hi” she whispered. He leaned over and kissed her temple and whispered “hi love” back. Tim adjusted the blanket and grabbed one of the remotes to dim the lights, turn on the fireplace and mute the game. He much preferred his senses to be overwhelmed by her.

Under the blanket, Lucy draped herself over Tim. Head on his chest, arm around his waist and leg flung over a hip. Her boxers had flutes and clarinets on them to musically match his, however she didn’t want to match. She wanted to seduce this beautiful man and make yet another dream come true. She started kissing his neck and stuck her hand down his shorts using her fingers to lightly trace patters up and down his torso. “I have a surprise for you - a special message. I’m going to write it on you with my finger - you are so going to want me - but you have to promise not to reciprocate touching me with your hands until you understand. Ok? The message is the reward and when you understand, then you can do what you want.” Tim was game. He knew she loved torturing him, but a message? He wasn’t sure he could pay attention while she touched him down there. But he said, yes love.

Lucy scootched down a smidge for better access to his lower half, and began very lightly stroking his upper inner thigh, almost touching his hardening love spear but never actually touching him there. When she heard him start saying her name on repeat, she knew he was succumbing to the pleasure she was creating and not really paying attention. “I’m starting now” she told him… and she took her ring finger and started spelling out a word on him…… p…….r…….e…….g…… Tim was delirious with desire, but he promised so he was forcing himself to say the letters out loud….. “p…. n…..e…..s….. Lucy chuckled and whispered, “no, let’s try again.” I’ll say them with you…. Ready?”

P……r…..e….g….n…..a…n…t

When the word clicked in his brain, he sat up and pulled her on top of him and started to cry tears of happiness…. “We are having a baby?” Lucy looked at him, kissed him on the lips, and said, “we are having a baby.”

————-

Babies!

#chenford #i love them #tim x lucy #tim bradford #lucy chen #just get married and have babies already

31 notes · View notes

goodgirlssayiloveyoutoo · 3 years

Text

2/31

Danny Pino is stupid hot and as Angela’s oldest brother Gabriel Lopez I really see this going well for Lucy. Cheers to @crose84 for pointing out in their post today that Lucy definitely has a type and it seems to be older and divorced. I ran with that. I also just really want Nyla, Angela and Lucy to be real friends. Plus Angela and Nyla would 100% be on the get Lucy laid brigade. Also in this Tamara is away for the weekend okay??

_______________________________________________________________________

The only reason Lucy decides to make an appearance at Nolan’s soon to be annual Holiday bash is because he was so damn excited about it and honestly, she really wasn’t ready to be alone over the holidays. So she puts on a a festive dress and forces Nyla to join her. The first thing she does upon arrival is grab a full bottle of red wine from the serve-yourself-bar (Nolan’s first mistake of the night, really) and raises an eyebrow at Nyla who nods.

Dodging the other party goers, the two woman immeditely sequestered themselves to a corner of the room with the commandeered bottle, and Nyla efficiently popped the cork pouring large glasses for the both of them.

“So I know why I’m drinking tonight, what’s your reason?” Nyla asks after they cheers and both take far too long of a sip.

“Too many to count.”

Lucy thinks of the gifts she bought for Jackson months ago hidden in the back of her closet, she thinks of the presents she will be mailing to her parents instead of delivering in person, and she really tries not to think about Tim across the room with his hand on Ashley’s lower back.

The wine helps.

“Feel that.” Nyla lets out a big sigh and takes another gulp, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not tonight.”

Nyla nods slowly, and offers Lucy a soft understanding smile, “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Yeah, maybe tomorrow.” Lucy returns the smile as best she can, and the other woman nudges her shoulder in a show of support.

Everyone seems to be in a festive mood, and it makes Lucy happy to see her people happy even if she didn’t feel up to partaking in it. Nolan and Aaron are sitting on the couch, laughing and watching Smitty who had clearly already had too much eggnog and was trying to start a dance floor while Grey turned up the volume on the Christmas carols.

It’s bittersweet without Jackson, and it makes Lucy’s heart ache in a particularly painful type of way. She takes a bigger sip of her wine, she just wants to have fun tonight and forget about everything else. She doesn’t think the wine is going to cut it but John didn’t supply any tequila.

Nyla’s voice shakes her out of her thoughts, “Damn, who is that?”

“Who?”

The who is answered very quickly, because behind Angela, Wesley and Baby Jack making their grand appearance is an extremely handsome man Lucy has never seen before who is carrying the baby’s diaper bag, and it’s an ode to his attractiveness that it does absolutely nothing to dampen it.

“Jesus, that man is fine.” Whistles Nyla and Lucy can’t help but laugh, it feels good to be gossiping in the corner over a glass of wine like they’re normal people.

“He really is.”

Angela clocks them hiding in the corner, immediately hands the baby to her husband and grabs an empty glass on her way over to the two woman. “Top me up please ASAP, I’ve already pumped and I’m looking to get tipsy.”

Lucy nods and tips the bottle into her glass, giving her a more than generous pour, “Yes m’am.”

“Who is that man with Wesley that you brought in?” Nyla asks, as Angela takes a large sip.

Angela laughs, “That’s my oldest brother Gabriel, he’s recently divorced and I felt like he could do with a night out with some new people.”

Lucy watches the man in question over her wine glass, he’s undoubtedly attractive but that doesn’t really surprise her, the Lopez’s have good genes.

Nyla smirks and nudges Lucy, “Hey Lucy, he’s just your type, older and divorced.”

Angela lets out a loud laugh and Lucy rolls her eyes but can’t help but laugh with them, “Oh my god, shut up. I knew it was a mistake to tell you two about Nolan. It was in the academy! And you two got me drunk on wine to reveal all my secrets!”

Angela raises a knowing eyebrow, “I don’t think she was just talking about Nolan.”

Lucy pointedly ignores her even though she knows what Lopez is none to subtly hinting at. Lucy having any sort of feelings or ideas around Tim has never been mentioned with our without wine, nor will they ever be. That is firmly hidden away in the deep compartments of her brain that only arise in sleep and her weaker moments .

Angela finishes her glass and holds it to Nyla for a refill before taking a scan of the room and her eyes lighting up at whatever she sees, “Lucy, can you go grab me a snack from the food table?”

Lucy turns towards the table in question and sees Gabriel there holding Jack and perusing the food selection. “Seriously? You’re not even trying to be subtle about this.”

“Yep. You’re not going to deny a new mother sustenance are you?”

Lucy rolls her eyes and lets out a huff before placing her wine glass down, “Of course not.”

She pulls her high pony a little tighter and makes her way over, standing next to Angela’s brother and waving her fingers in baby Jack’s direction cooing at him, “Hi cutie, how are you doing?”

Gabriel looks up from the charcuterie spread and grins at her, “That’s forward.”

Lucy lets out a loud laugh, “Don’t get cocky, you know I was talking to Jack.”

“Well, maybe Jack can introduce me to the pretty lady.”

The boy in question simply looks between the two of them and blows a raspberry and they both laugh at his antics. He reaches for Lucy and Gabriel easily hands him over and once in Lucy’s arms, Jack immediately tries to reach for one of her hoops.

She shifts Jack to rest on one of her hips and holds out a hand, which he takes in his larger one, “Lucy, I work with Angela.”

“I’m Gabe. My sister told me about you.”

“I bet she did.”

“Angela’s a meddler. Just like my mother.”

“She is.” Lucy spares a glance in Angela’s direction and sees her and Nyla intently watching them so she stick out her tongue at them. Jack copies her and Lucy laughs again, Gabe joins in the laughter and her heart already feels a little lighter.

Gabe tickles Jack’s side and offers another smile to Lucy, they’re easily won and there is something that feels so simple about it all, “She also has good instincts.”

Lucy isn’t sure where he’s going with that but she’s intrigued enough to find out, “She does. Hell of a detective.”

Gabe shuffles his feet a little and for the first time that night he looks a little nervous (but still so so handsome), “Angela also told me she thought we would hit it off.”

Lucy can’t help the wide smile nor the blush that crosses her face, “So far, so good.”

“How about I return this child to his parents and me and you go get a drink somewhere besides this party?”

It’s forward and far too quick but Lucy had been wanting to leave the party the moment she arrived and leaving with an insanely attractive man feels on the right side of reckless, “What did you have in mind?”

“I know this really great tequila bar around the corner, if you’re interested.”

If Gabe hadn’t already charmed her before, that would have done it.

Still, Lucy can’t help but be unsure, “You don’t want to stay? You only just arrived?”

Gabe shrugs, his smile bordering on cocky and it does things to Lucy, “Honestly, I only came because Angela said she would introduce me to you.”

The blush that Lucy thought she had tempered erupts full force at his honesty, and she bites her lip, far too pleased with his attention, “Alright, that sounds perfect, let me deliver this snack to your sister, you give Jack back to Wesley and I’ll meet you at the door.”

“Perfect.”

Lucy turns on her heel with a plate of cheese and cured meat, dropping it beside Angela and grabbing her coat. Nyla and Angela are watching her with poorly disguised smirks covering their faces and she wills the blush away.

“So…How’d that go?” Angela asks, looking far too pleased with herself.

Lucy laughs and tosses her long ponytail over her shoulder as she grabs her purse, and downs the rest of her wine, “I’m leaving. Don’t wait up.”

The catcalls the two women make as Lucy walks away draws the attention of the room and she shakes her head, losing all hope at a subtle exit. Tim makes eye contact with her across the room and raises his eyebrows in question and she quickly looks away from him, because honestly it’s the last damn thing she needs. That and he’s still glued to Ashley’s side.

Lucy meets Gabe at the door, and he’s standing there in his black pea coat, dark hair and dark eyes and he’s so fucking sexy she almost can’t believe it. So she makes a decision.

They step out together into the cooler night air on Nolan’s veranda and Lucy takes the chance to lean in closer to Gabe’s personal space, looking up at him through her eyelashes and running a hand across his lapels, “I’ve got tequila at my place.”

Lucy doesn’t miss how his eyes darken and his breath speeds up and she certainly doesn’t miss the sweep of his heated gaze up and down her body, Gabe smiles and grabs her hand, “Lead the way.”

#Chenford #chenfordcritical #let lucy get laid brigade #letlucygetlaid #let lucy get laid #31 days of loving for lucy #lucy chen #nyla harper #angela lopez #the rookie

85 notes · View notes

sergeant-donny-donowitz · 4 years

Text

The Surprise (AldoxReader)

Requested by @struggling-bee @owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182 Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

_______

The basterds had only been a team for about six months. They had a rocky start...but one thing was clear.

You were basically a ray of sunshine.

You were a basterd, of course, you were as mean as they came. But...you were the one that kept their morale up.

One thing you did was remember all their birthdays. You made sure everyone remembered.

Rain or shine, you made sure at least some kind of normalcy made it through.

You were just a sweet kid, at heart.

And...of course at first, Aldo hesitated about you. He worried he chose wrong. How could someone so bubbly ever be a basterd?

It only took about an hour after being dropped into France to get that answer...

Still, it was nice to have someone like you around. You just made everyone feel at ease.

And....you made Aldo feel happy.

He was flirty, and of course you turned out to be a basterd when it came to flirting. (He wasn't complaining exactly ;) )

Anyway, you made everyone loosen up. So much so, that you somehow even got Hugo to tell you his birthday.

He absolutely refused at first.

Donny muttered, "As come on now, just tell the kid."

Hugo grumbled something that made Wicki gasp.

Something he would not repeat.

You sighed, "oh ok..."

Hugo sighed and muttered something else no one caught.

Hours later, as you were all camped out under the stars, when you were falling asleep, you felt something looming over you.

You quickly turned, only to find Hugo standing there..

You single handedly made Hugo Stiglitz feel bad with a single sigh and two words.

He was a quiet, but observant man. He had only been with the basterds for a day, but he quickly realized that if any nazi so much as looked in your general direction, every single basterd was going to be after that scalp.

Especially Aldo.

He also realized why that was.

Aldo wasn't good at hiding things.

Not as good as you were at making them all smile.

Hugo may have been your polar opposite...and he might not have liked you...(at first)...but he couldn't stand being the reason you seemed a little down.

So he muttered, "February 12th." And turned his back and went back to wherever he set up his things.

You grinned widely, though no one could see, and it simmered to a soft smile as you fell asleep.

The next morning, you wrote it down in a little notebook where you wrote down everything worth remembering.

******* A few weeks passed, and you all just came back from a mission. You went to the nearest town with some of the basterds to stock up on supplies for your hide out. You left your notebook out in the open. It didn't take long for Hirschberg to swoop down, "I wanna know who Y/n likes.” Omar rolled his eyes, "You're fucking kidding me..." Mostly because everyone knew. "What?" Utivich rolled his eyes, "God, you're serious?" He and Omar reached to take the notebook. Suddenly, Aldo walked in, instantly spotting the notebook in their hands, "Well, ain’t that nice." Omar and Smitty pointed at Hirschberg, "He did it." Omar rolled his eyes and handed it over, (after seeing the first page)"Ah, it's just a bunch of dates anyway." "DaTeS?! WITH WHO?!" Aldo muttered under his breath, and took a look. "One, two..seven..ten.. Looks like everyone’s birthdays on this page." Smitty smiled, "Ten? So she did get Hugo's?" It was then that Aldo realized something. Usually, he knew exactly what was going on in his camp, but there was one thing he didn't know... "Y'all know when Y/n's birthday is?" The wide grins slowly turned to wide eyes, frowns of contemplation, and furrowed brows. "N....no.....???" "May 24th, thanks for holding onto that, boys." You chuckled as you took the notebook. There really was no coming back from that from him, as Hirschberg smiled awkwardly, trying to say something. Aldo, on the other hand, shook his head with a frown, "That...was last week....." You nodded with a smile as you put some of the supplies away, "I know, baby." Hirschberg gasped, "Baby....wait! Is it Ald_ Omar shook his head, "Shut up Gerry, goddamn it!" Aldo asked, "Well...why didn't you say anything?"

You shrugged, "We were on a mission." Smitty narrowed his eyes, "You sang happy birthday to me in the middle of a firefight. I think it woulda been fine for us to know." "Well now you know," you chuckled, but Aldo asked, "You're not upset?" "I'd be upset if you didn't remember next year," you smiled, and joined the other basterds outside, as they yelled at each other for forgetting to get bread. Aldo, Smitty, Hirschberg, and Omar joined soon after. As you all scrapped together what you had no choice in calling a meal, Aldo was quieter than usual. He couldn't stop thinking about 'next year.' He looked around... They'd already lost three basterds, and the team hadn't even been together for a year. With things like war, there was no next time. No next year. With war, tomorrow wasn't even a promise. His eyes went wide, along with a grin. 'Tomorrow...' You luckily marched off to sleep a little earlier than the others, and Aldo laid out his plan. "We're making it up to Y/n tomorrow."

"How? We're in the middle of fucken nowhere!" Hirschberg slumped down, and Omar glared at him, "No we're not." Hirschberg piped up, "Well no one tells me fucken anything around here!" So, that night, half of the basterds snuck out. They scrapped togehter what they could. It wasn't much, since everything was closed, but, they got you... "Claw-footie!" Aldo declared happily grinning as he held out the dish to you, with a candle on it. Wicki shook his head, seeing your confusion, "Clafoutis, sir."

"That's what I said." You giggled, and thanked them for their belated birthday wishes. As soon as you were done eating, you had to go on a new mission. As you marched deeper into the woods, Aldo lagged behind the rest of the group with you, "I got you a lil somethin'..." You chuckled, "Yeah? Another slice of claw-f-" "No," He laughed, and reached into his pocket, "Couldn't get it gift wrapped, but...you get the the point, don't you darlin?" Your heart skipped a beat. He hadn't called you that before. You looked around, and knew you couldn't make a big deal out of it with the rest of the basterds so close by. Not yet, at least. But Aldo pulled out a book, with smooth, red leather covers, with a silver shaped heart lock, and key. "So uh...'em boys don't go snoopin' 'round no more." You threw your arms around his neck, "Thank you," and planted a kiss on his cheek. Aldo laughed, "Careful now, or Hirschberg'll find out." Smitty, who was just ahead, was looking down at his watch, "Annnnd-" He signaled, just as Hirschberg turned, "SO IT IS ALDO?!" As Aldo and the rest of the basterds grumbled and muttered, you laughed, and smiled as you looked over. "Yeah...It's Aldo."

#Inglourious Basterds #inglourious basterds imagine #aldo raine #aldo the apache #aldo raine x reader

72 notes · View notes

idiosinkrasies · 5 years

Text

Ocean Eyes

(Jaren's POV)

I look out the window from where I was sat in the classroom near the back and gaze out into the schoolyard, glancing at the trees that danced in the autumn wind and the leaves that floated their way down to the ground. I look up to see the blue sky filled with cirrus clouds that didn't quite cover the suns rays. My eyes drift over to the big oak tree that stood tall in the middle of everything. Sitting under the tree is someone, a boy, who looks to be around my age, that has dyed blond hair that reaches his shoulders. He's wearing a yellow, red, and blue hoodie with jeans and a stylish pair of black boots. He seems to be looking at something on his phone, not smiling from what I can see, but I can barely make out any of his features, apart from his painted nails.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the bell, startling me slightly as I quickly look back to the front of the room where my teacher stands and then around to all my classmates who are putting their things away for their next class. Then I look back out to the schoolyard only to see the back of the man walking into the school. I frown and pack up my things, making my way out of the classroom and into the crowded halls.

The next time I see the guy is in my last period, which apparently he's in. Thinking back on it, I remember seeing him, but this morning he really just caught my eye. My eyes follow him as he makes his way toward the back of the room, where I was sitting, and sits at the desk in front of me. He turns to face me.

"Hey, do you happen to have a pencil or a pen I could borrow?" He says in a low and calm voice. I almost forget to answer, I'm too distracted by his eyes. I can't decide if they're blue or gray or maybe even a little green, they just seem so deep and mysterious. I eventually get my words out.

"Oh uh yeah, one sec," I say digging through my bag for a pencil. Once I pull one out I hand it to him. "You can keep it,"

"Thanks, man," He smiles at me and I notice the mole on the top of his upper lip.

"Oh no problem," I reply and he turns to face the front just as the bell rings and the teacher starts the attendance. He goes through some names before I hear the same calm voice speak up.

"John?" The teacher asks.

"Here" The man, John, replies. So his name is John huh? Good to know.

Later that night while I'm trying to do homework I keep thinking back to John and his eyes. I feel like they hold more in them than he lets a show like he has a story to tell and he's waiting for the right person to tell it to. I want to be that person. For some reason, I feel drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. It makes it really hard to concentrate on my homework when all I can think about is John and his eyes.

Two days later is when we talk again. It's lunch for me now and none of my friends are in my lunch period so I'm sitting alone at a table near the wall of the cafeteria. Someone sits down. It doesn't bother me though. A lot of people that don't have anywhere to go come here, be it because they want to sit somewhere else or their friends aren't at school/lunch that day. So this doesn't surprise me. What does surprise me is when a calm voice speaks up.

"Hey," The person says, I look up, only to be met with dazzling blue-grey eyes. All rational thoughts leave my head and I'm stunned to silence. It's John. "Can I sit here?" He says with a small and shy smile. I try to formulate a sentence but my brain seems to have stopped working.

"Uhhhhhhh, yeah. Yeah, go for it." I manage to get out after a beat of silence and ya just looking at each other, him more expectantly and be more surprised.

"Can I ask why you always sit alone?" He says, smoothly sitting down with a lunch tray in his hands, placing his backpack on the ground next to him.

"Well, uh- none of my friends are in this lunch period and so I just sit here with my thoughts and my phone," I say, speeding through my words a bit and looking down to my suddenly very interesting cafeteria food.

"Well, now you have me to sit with. I'm John, by the way." He says extending a hand out towards me. I place mine in his, shaking gently.

"I know, I'm Jaren or Smii7y," I say.

"Smii7y?" He asks, raising an eyebrow with a slight smirk pulling on his lips.

"It's my gamer tag," I inform him.

"Well if we're going by gamer tags then you can call me Kryoz." He says proudly.

"Kryoz? As in Cryo, like a cryo chamber? But with a z?" His mouth opens to retort but then it closes and opens once more.

"Yes, because I'm edgy." He finally says.

"Ok edgelord, be careful or else you may cut yourself," I tell him and we both start to laugh. Why did I ever think it would hard to talk to him.

"And here I was, not gonna make fun of Smitty, but now I'm having second thoughts." He says looking me directly in the eyes and I remember why it was so hard to talk to him. God those eyes.

"Hey, don't be mean, I'm sensitive," I say jokingly.

"My apologies, your highness. Forgive this lowly peasant for offending you, my prince." He says bowing his head. I laugh but then regain my composure.

"For your crimes against the royal family, you shall be hanged." I say in my best "royal" voice, tilting my head up slightly to give off an authoritative aura.

He looked up at me and we paused for a second before breaking out in laughter. His laugh is just as incredible as his eyes, holy shit. We fall into silence, but not an uncomfortable one. That is until I speak up.

"I like your nails, by the way." His eyes widen slightly and he looks down to where his painted nails are in view.

"Oh, thanks. You don't think it's weird or anything?" He asks hesitantly, disbelief in his eyes.

"No, not at all, I think it's awesome! Maybe you could do my nails someday." I say, reassuring him that I won't bully him. That seems to put him a bit more at ease.

"Yeah, that seems nice," He says, smiling at me. "but, to actually hang out, we would need a means of contacting each other."

He pulls out his phone and uses his finger to open it, clicking on the contacts app and holding it out to me. I graciously take the phone from him and put in my information, making my name Milkbag in his contacts.

When he takes the phone back, he chuckles at the name I gave myself. He taps on the phone a couple of times, before my phone dings, signaling he was probably texting me. I pick up my phone and see a text from an unknown number.

unknown: sup cutie

I feel a light blush spread across my cheeks. I look up at John only to see him looking at me with a smug grin plastered on his face. I roll my eyes at him, but it only makes him smile wider.

"I'm not cute," I say, with a slight pout in my lip.

"I beg to differ." He says, placing his arms on the table and leaning over it, towards me. I do the same.

"Really?" He nods, we're exponentially closer now than before, "then beg." I pull back from the intense staring contest we were in and lean back to see his expression. He looks a little astonished that I would say what I said. That is until he cracks a small smile.

"Wow Smit, I didn't think you were the kinky type." He says, making my face blush bright red. I become a stuttering mess. "It's ok, we all have our own kinks." He winks at me, just making me blush harder.

Suddenly the bell rings and it's time for class. We both start to pack up our things as we stand up to leave the cafeteria. He slings one strap over his back while I put both arms through the straps.

"Nice talking to you, Jaren." He says, standing in front of me.

"You too, John." We smile at each other and he turns to go to his next period, while I make my way to the library. I have a free period right now and I usually spend it in the library, either reading or doing homework, but I feel that I won't be able to do that right now. Mostly because of a certain someone occupying my brain at the moment.

I sit down and open the book I'm currently reading. I get through the next few pages in the book when my reading is interrupted by a thought.

John has really pretty eyes.

I look up from my book in shock of what I just thought. That doesn't mean anything though, I can like his eyes without liking him, and anyway, I'm not gay, well, I'm bisexual but that doesn't mean that I have a crush on John, I mean, I just met him. Right?

I begin to question what I feel for John and soon enough, it's the end of the period and I have to go to my next class. For the rest of the day, I'm sorta out of it. Even during last period, I have to remind myself to pay attention to the teacher and not let my eyes or mind drift to the boy sitting next to me.

Maybe I do like him.

~timeskip~

John and I have been friends for about 3 months now and we've really become quite the duo around the school. Almost everyone in our grade knows us as Smii7y and Kryoz, cause we only call each other that after we started to play games together. We've gotten so close that we start to say the same things and have the same actions to the point where we have an ongoing joke about saying "you have bear fists?" simultaneously.

As we've gotten closer, the more I fall for him. Ok, yes, I do have a crush on my best friend. I know it's not a good thing but I just can't help it, he's too perfect. I've had to catch myself from staring into his eyes for too long, or from letting my thoughts wander too much. It can be challenging but I don't mind. Really, if I was only able to be his friend and could only daydream, then I'd be happy. So I am. Somedays I feel like I want to just tell him how I feel but I can't, because, one, I'm not out to him yet, and two, he won't reciprocate my feelings. So I don't really feel inclined to tell him.

I feel like I've gotten close enough to him at this point to tell him that I'm bi. For a while, I thought I was gay, but I've had crushes on girls in the past and I've only had girlfriends, who I did like at the time, so I know I'm not gay, but I'm not straight either.

Anyway, today is the day that I tell John, and I've never been more scared in my entire life. I don't know how he'll react, or if he'll hate me, or if something else bad will happen. All of this anxiety fills my body and overwhelms me to the point where I can't get out of bed. This has happened before, but after meeting John it had started to happen less and less often.

The only thing I can think to do is pull out my phone and click on John's contact. I put the phone on speaker and listen to it ring for a few seconds. He picks up the phone.

"Ayyyye, Smit, how's it going?" He asks and I feel my heart flutter slightly, only to be beaten down by my rational thoughts. I don't respond for a few seconds.

"John," I say with a trembling voice.

"Jaren? Are you ok?" He asks, concern and worry filling his voice. "Do you want me to come over?" I murmur yes.

"Ok, I'll be there in 10." Then he hangs up and I'm alone with my thoughts again. I think about what he'll think of me when he sees me like this, all weak and scared. Scared of what, opening up to him, my best friend? He probably thinks that I'm a burden to him and he'll leave me after this.

My breathing starts to pick up and the walls seem to start closing in on me. My eyes look frantically around for something, I don't know what though. My heart starts to speed up and my vision gets a bit blurry. My hands reach up to pull at my hair and my eyes get watery.

He'll never love you now.

The thought makes the tears spill from my eyes and I start to panic even more.

I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I don't even register the front door opening and closing. I only realize John's in my house when I hear him call my name. I try to tell him where I am but the only sound that comes out is a choked whimper. I think he got the message when my door opens and he rushes into the room and over to my bed.

"Oh my gosh, Jaren, are you ok?" He asks, and I shake my head no. He immediately moved over to the side of the bed and crouches down, I move my head to look at him, his face full of worry. "Do you want a hug?" I nod.

He pulls me up from where I was still lying down and pulls me into a big hug, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and press my face into the crook of his neck, tears flowing freely from my eyes.

I feel his hands rub up and down my back as he whispers into my ear. "It's was just a thought, it's ok," He says, "I'm here now."

After a few minutes, my breathing slows and I feel better. I pull away from the hug and wipe my eyes, smiling at him.

"Thanks, I needed that," I tell him.

"Hey, what are friends for." We laugh slightly.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that, I just didn't know who else to call." He places a hand on my chin and makes me look into his beautiful, blue eyes.

"It's ok, I'm always here for you, you're my best friend and I care about you." I blink and before I can even think about what I'm doing, I lean in and press his lips to mine. After about two seconds my eyes widen and I pull away.

"I-I'm so sorry, it's just, I couldn't help it. You're just really attractive and I really like you, and I was planning on telling you that I'm bi and that's why I was freaking out and now I did this and you probably hate me now and-" He cuts me off by pulling me back into another kiss. I was shocked at first, but then I melted into it, my eyes closing and my hands weaving their way into his long hair as his moved to hold my waist and our lips moved in sync. When he pulled away, we were both panting slightly. We press our foreheads together and he puts a hand on my cheek.

"I like you too, Jaren, and I'm also bi." I open my eyes to see him staring into mine, a soft smile on his face. I smile back.

"I'm glad you do, or else this would be very awkward." He starts to laugh and I join him soon after.

"Of course you make a joke when we're having a moment." He says in between laughs.

"I can do you one better."

"Oh no."

"Peppa, what are you doing in the middle of my confession?" I say and pull out a small Peppa Pig toy. He bursts out with laughter and falls over on the bed.

"Do you just have that with you at all times so you can make that joke?" He barely gets out.

"Yes," I say, making him laugh even harder.

"God, you're amazing." He says, finally over his laughing fit. He shakes his head and pulls me into a kiss again, this time with more passion behind it. He pulls away after a few moments of pure bliss. "Does this make me your boyfriend?"

"Yes please," I say, almost too quickly. "I mean, yeah sure." I try to correct my self, but the smile on my face is evident that I've wanted this for forever.

"Well, I guess that settles it, I, Johnathan "Kryoz" Keyes, am now Jaren "Smii7y" Smith's boyfriend." I giggle a bit and press a kiss to his forehead.

"You're a dork," I say.

"Yes, but now I'm your dork." He points out and I feel butterflies in my stomach.

"My dork." I stare into his eyes, a bright smile on my face. "I like the sound of that."

"I'm glad because you're gonna be stuck with me for a while."

"Oh I know, and that's what makes me excited."

We spend the rest of the day at my house, playing video games and talking, doing what we normally do, just this time I'm allowed to kiss him to distract him from the game, so I can win. And now I'm really happy that he decided to ask to sit with me during lunch because now I'm dating the love of my life and I'm finally happy and comfortable with myself. Sure I still have episodes and so does he, but now we have each other and we're always there for each other.

And I still can't stop staring at his ocean eyes, but now I can do it without consequences.

@writingwithadragon

#krii7y #kryoz #kryozgaming #smii7y #gbg #bbs #fanfic #gay baby gang #gay #banana bus squad #ship #writing #fics

123 notes · View notes

mssjynx · 6 years

Text

Five Dollars

krii7y no warnings 3979 words . one of the stories from my old blog, chinxino5. hope you enjoy! (whether it be for the first time or the second !!) merry christmas!

To say anticipation buzzed throughout the town was an understatement.

Early August was always exciting for the small population as each year without fail brought five special days of good vibes, masses of cotton candy and adrenalized shrieks of joy and fear. There wasn’t a soul within the town that didn’t enjoy the presence of the lively carnival and it brought benefits to all.

Terrifying rides, endless games and prizes to win, silly booths for all sorts that could be imagined. Every man and his dog could be found walking the aisles of the carnival and not a single soul didn’t wear a smile on their face with hands full of showbags or cotton candy sticks. It was a day for excitement and endless fun.

For Smitty, it was no different.

The nineteen-year-old had his day planned down to the second. His list of rides in specific order, break times for food and finding friends, visiting those working at booths so he could laugh at and tease them; he’d even taken walking time and waiting in lines into account!

‘Excited’ didn’t cut it.

Until he visited Simone: his first mistake, and his mental list was set on mental fire right before his mental eyes.

The second she let her eyes fall on him he knew there was a problem and when she grabbed at his overalls and yanked him back to the tent behind the booth, he knew he was definitely going to be dragged into it against his own will.

Simone was by far his favourite to tease. An amazing friend, a lovely gal to be around too, but she just so happened to have the worst (by Smit’s standards) position in the carnival year after year (though she denied it being so awful). Having been through two of his planned six hours, he had decided to pay her a visit and boy, was timing a bitch.

“Smit, you’ve gotta help me,” were her first words. Unsurprisingly, they weren’t very comforting. “I’m on in ten minutes for two damn hours and Tyler’s gonna rip me in two if I leave an empty booth!” she exclaimed. He’d never seen her so distressed before and she didn’t cope with her panic very well at all. “I don’t have any supplies – I wasn’t supposed to be due for another couple of days! This is so unfair but I don’t know what to do, I need a fill-in and I don’t know anyone who can, I-”

“Simone! Stop, oh my God; breathe for one second please.” He cut her off, eyes wide in alarm at the state the girl was in. He hadn’t expected this at all, but she listened, falling silent and panting for a short moment. He rested his hands on her arms, gentle, and held her eye contact. “Breathe and start from the start. What happened?”

Her fingers relaxed, releasing him and inhaling deeply as told. When she exhaled, the panic was no longer rushed but instead dressed itself with concern and helplessness. “I got my period and I don’t have a tampon – none of the girls do. It’s not like I can sit up there and bleed through my pants for two hours, that’ll be so gross. I have to go home but I don’t have anyone to take my place!” Her dark eyes were saturated with pleading and although she didn’t voice it, Smitty knew exactly what she was thinking.

He took a step back, pointing a finger in warning. “Oh no. No way. Simone. If you’re asking me to go out there for two hours and sell my very high-value kisses for five dollars-” Smitty’s heart fell, stopping short as he watched the desperation swell in her eyes. An internal battle. He dropped his finger. It caused him physical pain to turn away, rubbing his face with his hands and letting a groan slip past his lips.

“Please Smit, you can have all the pay and I’ll call Marcel to bring you cotton candy and water! Please, please, please; I’ll do anything,” she begged, tugging on his arm to keep his attention.

All the rides, all the lollies, all the games…

He sighed, eyes shut in a pained defeat. “Fine”—Simone gasped, throwing her arms around him—“but you’re buying me a new toothbrush! And Marcel better bring that damb cotton candy or I swear I will ruin you,” he grumbled, hating each word that dropped from his lips.

Desperation fell away to relief as she bounced up and down on her feet. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He grumbled to himself as she squealed into his shoulder. Her hands were quick to usher her out of the tent. “You’re the best and I owe you a massive favour!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, watching her check the time with a pout on his lips. She jumped in her haste, pushing him to the back of the big red booth.

“Okay, c’mon. You’re on as soon as Chrissy’s out.” She hopped from one foot to another and glanced at her phone again. A hum of thought. “Remember to smile and be pretty. Flirting gets you customers, don’t swap too much spit because herpes are a thing, and if you need help Jay’s near by and he’ll handle it. Okay? Got it?”

He nodded, unhappily watching her back away with an eagerness to get home and clean herself up. “You owe me!” he reminded, crossing his arms as she gave him two thumbs up and a guilty smile.

“Good luck!” Her response was not at all encouraging but she slipped around the back of the tent and vanished with a phone to her ear, leaving Smitty to sigh.

Two hours…

Angry brown eyes turned to the behind of the booth. The stand itself was a little wooden structure, a tall red-painted box. The back wall could be opened, and the front was cut out with a small bench-like surface where the worker would lean across to kiss the customers. It was relatively cosy, the inside of the door wearing the big white words of “Kisses for $5!” for all of the aisle to see.

It wasn’t subtle and it definitely wasn’t unpopular.

As he watched, the back swung open and a familiar face stepped down. Surprise switched to humour as Chrissy acknowledged Smitty standing where Simone usually would. Smit sighed. “Simone got her period. Guess who her knight in shining overalls is.” He motioned to his attire and the girl cackled, not at all sympathetic.

“Well,” she huffed a happy sigh, “Get up there and pray away the mouth herpes.”

She laughed at the curse he dropped, holding the door open for him with a smug look on her face. He shook his head, stepping up into the one-person space. “You’re too happy about my suffering.”

“That’s what you get for being a good friend!” She pushed the door shut for him and he bit back his groan, hopping over the small stool and taking his seat.

Time for a long two hours.

At first it was rather intimidating. Sitting up in a brightly coloured booth with a rather bold offer above his head and hundreds of people walking past him; it was impossible not to be nervous. Some people just glanced at him, some looked to be totally analysing him. Friends gossiped, giggling with each other as they nodded in his direction.

That had been the source of his first customer, a girl with a shy smile and four friends cheering behind her. Her freckles danced under the sun and he breathed in deeply.

“Smile. Be pretty and flirty.”

A charming smile; one he’d perfected for the sake of getting what he wanted from people in the past. It was useful as he tried to keep calm and come off as reassuring as possible as she stopped in front of the booth. “Hey there,” Smitty managed, not having any idea how he was expected to speak to the customers.

She batted her eyes, blushing at the awkward situation. “Hi, can I get a kiss?” she asked, holding out a five-dollar note and flicking her gaze between his eyes and his lips, unsure where to settle.

He smiled, swallowing. What was he thinking; his kiss experiences had been good but not extensive. He was bound to fuck this up.

There wasn’t much time to think about that though as he took the money and tucked it into the little moneybox beneath his make-shift desk. “Sure thing.”

Who the fuck says “Sure thing” when asked for a kiss?

She licked her lips, bracing herself on the desk and he leaned in. Her lips were shy, pressing to his in hesitance and only lingering for a moment before drawing back. He remained relatively passive, resting a hand on her shoulder and allowing her to be as close or as far away as she wanted.

Her shy smile formed a bright grin, skipping back a step. “Thank you!” she chirped and spun on her heels, rushing back to her laughing friends.

He sat back. “Huh.” It wasn’t so bad, though he could tell his cheeks were rosy by the warmth his face gave. Maybe it’d take a little bit to get used to it and it wasn’t like that would be a problem either. After all, he had two hours.

It continued much like that. At times he sat watching people pass for long minutes, not earning much more than an unfocussed glance. A few periods, however, had a line of three or four people waiting, money in hand and varying levels of uncertainty written on faces. It wasn’t all that bad and he found himself comfortable with most of it.

A small greeting, a warm smile to encourage the highly-nervous youths and gentle touch when he drew them in for kisses. No one tried to push things too far, no one complained and no one was bad enough to have to call for Jay.

His bad experiences were, fortunately, very little.

An older woman who looked far too happy to see his nineteen-year-old baby face in the window was one. She dropped innuendos with every sentence and left her number in his pale hand, wiggling her fingers at his uncomfortable smile as she left.

There was also the girl who looked like she was no older than thirteen, big eyes and absolutely no sign of discomfort as she cheerfully asked for a smooch. He hesitated with that one. A cautious, “How old are you?” received a frowning response but after a little bit of persuasion she agreed to pay only three dollars and receive a chaste cheek kiss. Far less creepy, he was happy with that.

Nothing got any worse than that and his pretty face drew in quite the number of shy, kind girls. He got only six boys within the whole two hours.

The first looked pretty similar to him, small and pretty, soft-looking blonde hair and a smile that only half hid his nerves. Whether it was the kiss in general, or the fact the public display of being queer, the blonde was very shy and bashful about the whole thing. Smitty was surprised at how easy he found the situation.

As the guy approached, he could tell he was worried and offered a smile, keeping eye contact. “Hey, you lookin’ for a smooch?” It fell from his mouth without much trouble and he felt proud to see the surprise in the boy’s eyes as his reluctance faltered.

“Are, er… Is it girls only?” he asked.

There was the source.

Smit beamed. “Nope!” A barely noticeable exhale of relief. “Flirty!” He willed Simone’s voice out of his head. “I’m not picky.” A wink.

The blonde smiled, hands resting on the desk with a comfortable confidence. Pale fingers accepted the three coins and dropped them into the box. Smitty leaned forwards first, more excited than he had been for any other customer.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, cupping a tan cheek and drawing the boy in halfway. He let him cross the rest of the distance, sealing their lips together for a long moment before the boy pulled away.

He’d left a smile behind and Smitty ran a hand through his own white-dyed hair.

“Thank you,” the blonde said, smiling before turning away.

Another guy strolled up with a skateboard under his arm, brightly coloured hair peaking out beneath a backwards cap. Smitty couldn’t lie when his heart almost stop beating. A cute smile with pierced dimples and pretty eyes – the guy was very attractive and a gentle kisser.

Overall, they came with very enjoyable experiences. The guys were the best, though some pretty girls did have him melting too. It was far less awful than he’d expected it to be, the two hours passing slowly but eventfully. He was also mildly proud to say he’d gotten rather used to kissing and mostly every customer walked away with a smile on their kissed lips.

With fifteen minutes left of his shift, Marcel appeared with water and cotton candy (as promised) along with Simone’s message of: “You’re the fucking best and I’ll bring you pizza one night in return.”

At five-to-one, he turned up. A year or two older than him, long bleached hair tied back and a pair of the prettiest eyes Smitty had probably ever seen. He greeted Pretty Boy (as he dubbed him) with a smile as usual, popping a piece of cotton candy on his tongue before lowering the stick and moving to address the guy.

“Hey, uh, do you have a map?”

Oh. Not a customer.

Smitty blinked in surprise, glancing down beneath the desk. Nothing other than his water and the moneybox. He returned his eyes to the boy. “No, sorry. I don’t.”

To his surprise (and confusion), a hand fell to rest on the wooden frame and a charming smile pulled at pink lips. “Sorry, I just keep getting lost in your eyes.” A straight set of white teeth were flashed and it took Smitty a long few seconds to acknowledge the fact that he’d just been really, really badly hit on.

He blinked. The cheesy smile didn’t change. “Do you, uh… do you want a kiss?” he asked, not so sure of Pretty Boy’s intentions with his flirting.

The question seemed to be exactly what he was looking for as he leaned on the counter and beamed. “I’d love one actually.”

Smitty didn’t move. He stayed leant back against the door, balancing on the back legs of his chair and watching the boy batt his lashes. “It’s five dollars.” Deadpan. He had only a few minutes left of Simone’s shift and maybe he was supposed to be joyous and cheery with his customers, but he was getting tired and this guy seemed to have enough confidence and happiness for the both of them.

But at Smitty’s comment, his smile fell to a frown of thought. “Oh.” Smitty waited. “Can I try again?”

“Dude. What are yo-”

“Is your name ‘nobody’?” That same smile, accompanied with a small laugh.

Smit sighed, rocking forward on his chair and resting his elbows on the bench, chin on his hands. He didn’t bother responding.

“Because I was told nobody’s perfect.”

So, Smitty may have been highly unamused by the first line… But he hadn’t heard that one before and he couldn’t deny he was kinda impressed. And maybe this guy wasn’t completely boring; he had quite the nice face as Smitty really took him in. But no matter the quality of his flirting or his pretty face, he wasn’t gonna get a free kiss.

“A kiss still costs five dollars.”

The disheartened look only lasted a moment before the cheerful glimmer returned to those gorgeous eyes. Smit squinted a second. “How has your day been, sugar?” A not-so-smooth transition but not one he’d question.

He shrugged. “Not too bad. My friend bribed me to fill in for her in a kissing booth and now I’m dealing with some guy trying to hit on me with shitty pick-up lines and cliché pet-names.” His words weren’t bitter though, sounding flat and uninterested but not unkind. He watched for the odd carnival-goer’s reaction. A laugh dropped from split lips, not at all bothered or worried. His confidence never wavered.

“I bet it’s been a successful one,” Pretty Boy said, reminding unconcerned. “With a face like yours I’m sure you’ve got a million dollars back there.”

Another bit of blue cotton candy dissolved on his tongue. “Mhm,” Smitty hummed. “You want a kiss? It’ll make it a million and five.” That really made him laugh, grin on his face as he pulled the tie from his hair before retying it. Smitty watched him curiously. “What colour are your eyes?”

Another laugh, the boy leaning close when he dropped his hands away from his hair. “I’ll tell you for a kiss,” he cooed. His smile was tempting.

Smit grinned, pointing at the white words behind his head. “Five dollars.”

Pretty Boy was persistent, Smitty gave him that. It wasn’t all bad, the guy rather funny as he tried and tried again with flattery and flirting that got him nowhere. Any fluster Smitty had felt remained hidden and he found himself hanging onto whatever words were to fall from those pink lips next.

“How about I strike you a deal?” In an attempt to mock professionality, the Pretty Boy placed his hands face down on the desk.

Smitty’s grin was unrestrained. “A kiss for five dollars.”

Ignored. “A kiss… for the price of a couple of shitty pick-up lines and some five-star quality flirting from Yours Truly.”

A hum of thought. “If one of those shitty pick-up lines includes you handing me a five dollar note, then sure.”

The guy turned, throwing his hands up with an exasperated groan as Smitty giggled to himself. So what, maybe he was a bit funny too. He turned back, pout on his lips instead and there was no way Smitty could fight away his smirk. The persistence was impressive but no matter how pretty those eyes were, he wasn’t getting a kiss without five dollars.

“I’ll ask nicely?”

“It’s five dollars.”

“Pretty please?”

“Five… Five dollars?”

“Pretty please for the pretty boy?”

“If I kiss you will you fuck off?” Smitty clapped his hands over his eyes, grin hidden by his wrists. The excited gasp pushed away his fingers.

“Yes!”

“Sweet.” He leaned back on his chair once again. “That’ll be five-fucking-dollars.”

“Oh my God! Fine!”

For a fleeting moment Smitty thought the boy was leaving as he spun around and his heart fell. Worrying that he’d actually made him feel unwanted, his grin dropped. But his concern vanished real quick the second Pretty Boy turned back around and dropped a large jar onto the desk full to the brim with silver five-cent coins.

The grin on the boy’s face was smug. “Five dollars!”

Smitty’s eye twitched.

It took him two minutes to count out the mass of small silver coins. All the while his last customer stood grinning and watching closely, fully aware that the shift had ended minutes ago. Smitty didn’t have the effort to brush this boy off. He’d come this far and tried so hard; it would be crushing to refuse now that he’d actually given him the five dollars (despite the form it’d come in)

“Four-ninety. Four-ninety-five. Five hundred.” Smitty huffed a sigh as he dropped all the coin back into the jar minus a single five cent coin. Capping the jar and placing it on the bottom of the booth beside his water, he stuck the last of his cotton candy into his mouth. The coin was cold as he pressed it into the hand of this Pretty Boy. “And five cents change,” he finished, eyes full of feigned hatred.

He looked awfully proud, batting his lashes and leaning forward on the table. “Now can I get a kiss from Snow White?” he cooed.

Smit squinted. “Are you calling me that because I’m pale?”

“No.” That stupidly pretty smile. “I’m calling you that because you’re beautiful.”

Now that was bad. Smitty rolled his eyes, scoffing at the corniness of the comment and reaching forward to catch a handful of the boy’s shirt. “Shut the fuck up, will you?” And with that, he brought him close and gave him what he’d been asking for.

Maybe the struggle it took for the two of them to finally reach that point was the reason behind the tingling warmth that trickled into Smitty’s bloodstream. Or maybe it was just the spontaneousness of it all; how whacky this guy was with his relentless flirting and persistence. Or it could just be the fact that he was a mind-blowing kisser. The way he took only a second to adjust, hand cupping Smitty’s face where they met above the desk. The way his lips were so soft but a bit chapped where he’d worried them with his teeth.

The struggle had definitely been worth it.

These five-dollar kisses didn’t last much longer than a few chaste seconds but it took no genius to say that this one exceeded any expectations as the seconds dragged on and Smitty’s lips moved lazily, mimicking the other.

Completely lost in their own world, it was a shock when they separated. Smitty’s eyes were blown wide, while pale eyes were much calmer. “Okay, so maybe it was worth the five dollars.” He caught his breath before Smitty but the smaller was quick to catch up, brows furrowing in insult.

“Hey, my kisses are worth far more than five dollars,” he defended.

The customer grinned, hand still lingering on the side of Smitty’s face. It made it easier for him to swoop back in, capturing those awe-struck lips once again and sealing another kiss between them. It lingered, once again, but ended faster than the first and the hand dropped away as Smit once again blinked himself back to reality.

His frown was quick to reform, leaning back and folding his arms. “Excuse me, you’ve gotta pay for that! These lips aren’t workin’ for nothing; I ain’t a cheap hoe!” The laugh he earnt was well worth it though he wouldn’t ever say so. This guy was a piece of work and if he didn’t get his-

“What’s your name?” Ah. Very good at avoiding the subject.

Smitty’s eyes sharpened but his lips curled in a sly smile. “That’ll be five dollars.”

The silver coin glimmered in the sun beside a shining grin. “How does five cents and two rides on that big-ass blue rollercoaster sound instead?”

Smitty plucked up the courage, leaning across the desk – his sly smirk becoming flirtatious. Go hard or go home, right? “Five cents, three rollercoaster rides and a homemade dinner tomorrow night at seven.”

Blueish-green eyes squinted, smile broad with no intent of refusing. “Why do you think I can cook?”

“It’s a hunch,” he grinned. “Am I wrong?”

“Guess you’ll have to see tomorrow night.” An equally flirty grin. “What’s your name and your number, sugar?”

Smitty didn’t answer, turning and opening up the backdoor of the booth. A girl he didn’t recognise flashed him a grin and stepped up to take his place as he ducked around the back to grab his valuables, before reappearing out the front where the boy waited.

“After one ride, I’ll tell you my name. The second, you’ll get my number. And the third, another kiss.”

The words had that gentle smile pulling back to bear a grin and Smitty held out a hand. Ring-laden fingers curled around his. “What will it cost to spend the rest of the day with you?”

His eyes twinkled, pulling the boy after him as he started down the lane towards squeals of fear and excitement. He glanced back, winking.

“Five dollars.”

#krii7y #krii7y fic #krii7y fanfic #bbs #gbg #gay baby gang #banana bus squad #fluff #festival #kissing both #chinxific #jynx writes

250 notes · View notes

ashleygren · 5 years

Text

The last of my Aus (for now) part 2

Ok only ten left so I can talk about them more. Personally out of all the underdeveloped ones I like these ten quite a bit. I'll probably say the pairings for a couple of these stories just because I don't have to list as many of them. Without further ado lets start.

Classics zoo Au- I have like a couple classic novels (like alice in wonderland, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, etc) and wanted a universe where the bbs bios were some of these characters interacting with eachother. The list goes as follows.

Vanoss/Dorian Gray

Delirious/peter pan

Nogla/cowardly lion

Miniladd/cheshire cat

Wildcat/Dorothy

Terroriser/the queen of hearts

Moo/wicked witch (of the west)

Basically/tin man

407/scarecrow

Panda/glinda

Cartoonz/mad hatter

Ohm/Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Squirrel/dormouse

Gorillaphent/march hare

Lui/the wizard

Smitty/alice

Kryoz/frankenstien's monster

Pairings-

Kritty

The main plot of this au would center around the country of Oz and Wonderland in a cold war type of situation. The main character is Smitty and its gen/rom. If you watched marcels yellow brick road fortnite challenge you'll see why certain bois are certain characters.

Poco's udon world Au- ok this one needs some explaining. If you haven't seen poco's udon world its about this workaholic dude who comes back to his hometown to seytle his dead fathers affairs and he ends up taking care of a baby tanuki demon that can look lile a human. Its very cute and emotional and it you haven't watched it I totally reccomend it. Anyway I really wanted a story where some of the guys suddenly have to take care of children of various ages that aren't human. I'll list the names of the guys affected but nothing about thier demon kids.

Vanoss

Delirious

Wildcat

Panda

Ohm

Squirrel

There are no pairings because I wanted it to focus on how they would react to taking care of children.

Soul eater Au- the events of this au are happening years after the events of the soul eater anime/manga so while characters from it might make camoes or be referenced they aren't part of the plot. I will be changing a few things from the canon of the soul eater universe to make this au work but I'm hoping it doesn't feel alien to people who know the original material. The main character is ohm and it is rom/gen rated (theres not many pairings but they play a big role). I won't say anything about the main pairing (other than its a three way relationship).

Pairings-

BasicallyIdowildcat

Oc pairings

Minx and her wife (minor pairing)

Tokyo Mew Mew Au- in a previous list I mentioned that I changed the uniforms for the sailor moon au because I kept them the same in a different one, well this is that one. I'm keeping the magical girl outfits the same with minor color/shape changes and changing alot of the names (of the guys and thier attacks) the main character of this story is moo because if anyone deserves to be a cat magical girl its him (when I was thinking of this au I wasn't sure if I should keep him a cat or change it, but I fell in love with the idea because of nightfox's and jhanyartist's art of neko moo) its romantic rated. If you want to get an idea of what they will look like in this au look up the anime and you'll get a pretty good idea.

Wicked/Demonick Au- I'm a big fan of musical theatre I love the stories, the songs, some of the messages so its no surprise that when I was listening to the Wicked soundtrack while working on another au I thought of this one. The main character is cartoonz as elphaba and its gen rated (there is a main pairing but if you've heard the play it doesn't impact the story till near the end).

Pairings-

Mootoonz

Ohmlirious

Steven universe Au- I was actually really hesitant to try and work on this au because I saw someone else on Tumblr (I don't remwmber who) make one and it looked really cool. I thought they could do a way better job at it than I could, but then I thought eh people write stories based on the same prompt all the time and it works because they make it thier own unique thing and i can do the same. I won't write down who's who but the main character is Marcel. Its gen/rom rated.

These four next Aus were actually some of the first ones I thought of.

HaniHaki Au- I'm gonna list the bois and let you make your own conclusions.

Vanoss/patient

Delirious/patient

Nogla/patient

Basically/doctor

407/patient

Panda/normal

Terroriser/patient

Moo/doctor

Ohm/normal

Squirrel/patient

Cartoonz/normal

Gorillaphent/doctor

Miniladd/nurse

Bryce/normal

Wildcat/nurse

Lui/normal

This idea actually has a lot fleshed out and I want to start making an outline for it. It just never feels like the right time too tho. I'm still gonna try though because its feeled with angst and fluff and I love that stuff.

Trapped in the can Au- the name says what it is. I haven't worked on this one very much. Hopefully i get in the mood to at some point.

Pairings-

Vanogla

Pandacat

Daycare Au- ok so i did see that someone else made an Au called the daycare au so I will be changing the make but it still takes place mostly at a daycare. Its a very cute idea exploring the different types of family that exist.

Pairings- (none of these pairings involve small children and one of the pairings is a teen/teen ship)

Ohmtoonz

BasicallyIdo407

Rich and famous Au- basically if some of these guys weren't youtube celebrities but instead different kinds (actors, singers, etc)

Pairings-

Tyvan

BasicallyIdoH2o

Miniriser (this one will be changed because of the current real life tension between these two I just haven't decided how yet)

We've finally reached the end of the entire list and I couldn't be happier. I will be working on multiple Aus more frequently now so that no new ones pop up. Hopefully I can start adding more to the ready to be written pile amd make progress on the two stories being written right now (I am actually making progress on EF Angel and sleeping beauty chapter 7)

#bbs #bbs squad #I'm finally free from the Aus #now to actually write them #whats that saying?#jumping from the fire into hell?#something like that

5 notes · View notes

ramajmedia · 5 years

Text

10 Ways Quentin Tarantino’s Movies Are All Connected

Shared universes are all the rage in cinema right now, with every studio trying to emulate the box office-breaking success of Marvel Studio's Marvel Cinematic Universe. High-profile efforts include everything from Warner Bros.' own superhero-oriented effort, the DC Extended Universe, to failed attempts like Universal Picture’s monster movie-themed Dark Universe. But there’s one shared universe that has been ticking along just fine in the background far longer than any of these: the films of Quentin Tarantino.

It may come as something of a surprise to casual viewers, but almost every entry in Tarantino’s filmography is connected, from 1992’s Reservoir Dogs right on through to this year’s Once Upon A Time In Hollywood. Sure, this interwoven tapestry may not rival the MCU in scope — although not even Marvel can lay claim to a similar “universe within a universe” conceit — but it’s pretty dang awesome all the same. To help bring you up to speed, here’s a round-up of our 10 favorite Tarantino movie connections.

RELATED: 10 Films That Directly Influenced Quentin Tarantino

10 Vincent And Vic Vega

Here’s a connection most cinephiles will already be aware of: Reservoir Dogs’ sadistic diamond thief Vic Vega and Pulp Fiction’s ambivalent hitman Vincent Vega are related. Tarantino himself confirmed as much years ago, when he expressed interested in making a “Vega Brothers” spin-off, titled Double V Vega.

Since both Vic and Vince don’t survive their respective movies, fans have long speculated that Double V Vega will be a prequel, but it’s starting to look like that speculation has been in vain. After all, a film centered around the Vega boys has yet to materialize, and — given the ages of stars Michael Madsen and John Travolta — it seems unlikely one ever will.

9 Fictional Products

Several fictional brands appear prominently in Tarantino’s films. For instance, if you see a character smoking in a scene, chances are they’re puffing on a Red Apple cigarette. The distinctive Red Apple packaging crops up in several of the acclaimed auteur’s outings, including Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill and Django Unchained. Red Apple cigarettes even serve as the basis for Once Upon A Time In Hollywood’s post-credits scene.

Another recurring made-up brand in Tarantino’s shared universe is Big Kahuna Burger. First alluded to in Reservoir Dogs — Mr. Blonde’s milkshake sports the fast food chain’s distinguishing red diagonal stripes — Big Kahuna Burger products play a pivotal role in Pulp Fiction’s iconic “Ezekiel 25:17” scene. A Big Kahuna Burger bag also pops up in From Dusk Till Dawn, while a billboard promoting the chain can be seen in Once Upon A Time In Hollywood.

8 “Crazy” Craig Koons And Captain Koons

Captain Koons — played to idiosyncratic perfection by Christopher Walken — only appears in a single scene in Pulp Fiction, but it also happens to be one of the movie’s most memorable moments. In it, the United States Air Force veteran recounts in painstaking detail the particulars of his captivity in a Vietnamese POW camp to young Butch Coolidge.

His questionable approach to interacting with children notwithstanding, it’s clear that Captain Coons is an upstanding member of the community. This is more than can be said for at least one of his ancestors, The Hateful Eight’s “Crazy” Craig Koons — a Wild West outlaw and member of the Smitty Bacall Gang.

RELATED: 10 Funniest Quotes From Quentin Tarantino Movies

7 Name Dropping Antonio Margheriti

One of the funniest moments in Inglourious Basterds sees several members of the film’s titular Nazi-hunting crew impersonating Italian filmmakers in less-than-convincing fashion. In true Tarantino style, Donny “The Bear Jew” Donowitz assumes the identity of real-life director Antonio Margheriti, who produced a slew of Spaghetti Western, horror, spy and sci-fi pictures during his 52-year career.

So it’s only fitting when Once Upon A Time In Hollywood protagonist Rick Dalton spends six months shooting movies in Italy that Margheriti is credited with helming one of them. Not only is this a fun call-back to Basterds, but it totally fits, considering the Italian director’s actual body of work.

6 The Scagnetti Brothers

Quentin Tarantino is famously selective when it comes to keeping count of the features that comprise his filmography. Indeed, despite the actual number of movies he’s had a direct hand in making, which amount to 14, the figure offered by the director is a more modest nine.

At least part of this discrepancy can be attributed to Tarantino disowning Natural Born Killers, which was heavily rewritten by its director Oliver Stone, writer David Veloz and producer Richard Rutowski.

Yet despite being the black sheep of Tarantino’s shared universe, Natural Born Killers remains inexorably part of it. How? Via Detective Jack Scagnetti, who Tarantino originally intended to be the brother of Seymour Scagnetti, Mr. Blonde’s unseen parole officer in Reservoir Dogs.

5 The Movies Within Tarantino’s Movies

Full disclosure: This entry isn’t based on anything seen onscreen in any of Tarantino’s films. Instead, it’s based off comments the filmmaker once made in an interview, where he designates some of his flicks as being part of a so-called “movie universe”.

What does this mean? Basically, Tarantino’s fictional world has a Russian doll-like structure: There’s a layer of movies nested within another layer, with the outer layer being more “real” than the inner. In practical terms, this means that Tarantino’s more outlandish efforts like Kill Bill represent the movies that characters in more realistic outings like Once Upon A Time In Hollywood go to see!

RELATED: Quentin Tarantino’s Best Villains, Ranked

4 Stuntman Mike And Stuntman Randy

Death Proof — Tarantino’s half of the experimental double feature Grindhouse — introduces audiences to Mike McKay, a murderous stuntman portrayed by Kurt Russell. Fast forward more than a decade, and Once Upon A Time In Hollywood sees Russell cameo as another stunt performer named Randy. Is it possible that these two guys are related? We think it’s highly likely.

Sure, the main thing connecting them is their matching profession and Russell’s involvement, but that’s more than enough to make them relatives in Tarantino’s shared universe. For our money, Stuntman Randy is the father of Stuntman Mike and his brother, Bob — as ol’ Randy’s a bit too long in the tooth to be anyone else.

3 Archie And “English” Pete Hicox

In case it hasn’t became readily apparent by now, Tarantino’s shared universe is overrun with biologically-related characters. For further proof (as if more was needed), look no further than Inglourious Basterds’ Archie Hicox and his great-great-grandfather, The Hateful Eight’s “English” Pete Hicox.

It’s interesting to note that British marine Archie stands out as one of the few unequivocally heroic figures in Tarantino’s canon, whereas “English” Pete is as unsavory a character as any dreamed up by the director. Yet despite being separated by their vastly different moral codes, the pair do have at least one thing in common: both men ultimately come off second best once the bullets start flying.

2 Mr. White And Alabama

In Reservoir Dogs, we learn that smooth operator Mr. White has an associate named Alabama, who he describes as “a good little thief.” At the time, viewers dismissed this as a throwaway line, but it turned out Tarantino had bigger plans for Alabama, as she subsequently serves as the female lead in True Romance (penned by Tarantino but helmed by Tony Scott).

That’s not the only link between True Romance and Tarantino’s wider continuity. Inglourious Basterds’ Staff Sergeant Donny Donowitz is the father of True Romance’s seedy film producer Lee Donowitz, a decidedly less intimidating fella than his old man.

1 Doctor Shultz’s Wife

When the Bride is buried alive in Kill Bill: Volume 2, the grave she’s dumped in bears the headstone of Paula Schultz, who passed away in 1898. Right now, you’re probably thinking “so what?” — unless you’ve recently watched Django Unchained. If you have, Paula’s surname will sound very familiar, as it’s the same as that of Django’s friend and mentor, bounty hunter Dr. King Schultz.

So, are these two related? Well, the general fan theory is that Paula was King’s wife — although Tarantino has never officially confirmed this (to our knowledge, at least). Even so, King’s demise in Django — set in 1858, 40 years before Paula’s death — matches Kill Bill’s description of Paula’s gravesite as “lonely”, further bolstering the strength of this theory.

NEXT: All Of Quentin Tarantino’s Opening Scenes, Ranked

source https://screenrant.com/quentin-tarantino-movies-same-shared-universe/

#screenrant

2 notes · View notes

fayfictions · 6 years

Text

The Best Things Come in Threes

Note: Happy Halloween, pumpkin fuckers. This isn't that spoopy and I apologise for that. Also for @dpsips. Hope you enjoy this kinda shitty fic lmao

Pairing: McKrii7y

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The best things come in three's.

It's stated in the rule of three's that anything in three's was automatically funnier, more satisfying, and/or more affective than if it wasn't in three's.

So it's no surprise that the best relationship was not two people, but three.

Although these individuals were...odd, to say the least.

John and Jay were walking down their man-made path, holding hands. At first glance, the two looked normal. John had an umbrella over his head, blocking out the sun. Jay could blend in with the trees if he wanted to, and was playfully threatening to do so if John kept poking him with his umbrella.

"Can you even blend in in the day?" John asked.

Jay shrugged, "I dunno, but I can try."

"Well now I wanna see if you can blend in or not."

"Yeah, but what about Smitty? I'm sure he wants to see both of us, not just you."

"Hey, it'll be an even better surprise then; I can say you couldn't make it, and then you show up like 'haha I did make it!', and then gayness ensues."

Jay rolled his eyes and laughed. "What am I going to do with you?"

John shrugged, smile tugging at his lips. "I'm sure you can figure it out. In the meantime, can you hold my umbrella over my head? My arms are getting tired."

"What, you can't stand the sun?"

"Jay, I will literally burn. You know this."

Jay rolled his eyes, and one of his many tendrils came out from his back and grabbed the umbrella, holding it up. "You're lucky that I love you."

"Love you too," John teased.

Soon they got to a lake, and John grabbed his umbrella again, sitting down and setting it behind him, blocking the sun. Jay grabbed a rock with one of his tendrils and threw it. The rock skipped a couple of times on the lake before sinking down. "You better with those things or your arms?" John asked.

"My arms have horrible aim," Jay admitted. John grabbed a rock himself and tried to skip it, although it failed, and just sunk.

There were bubbles that came up in the spot where John threw the rock, and then the rock shot up out of the water and back to where they were sitting, almost hitting John.

"I think you might've hit Smit," Jay said, looking out into the water.

"Whoops."

The bubble got closer and closer until a head popped out of the water. "Which one of you fucks threw a rock into the water?"

Jay's tendrils all pointed to John, and John scoffed. "Wow, I can't believe you'd throw me under the bus like that. And Smitty, baby, I was trying to skip it across the lake, I'm sorry."

Smitty stuck his tongue out at them and crawled out of the water partially, most of his lower half still in the water. "Watch where you throw those things next time, it nearly hit me."

"Sorry," John apologized again, leaning forward and placing a kiss on Smitty's head.

Smitty hummed, and Jay leaned down to kiss Smitty as well. Smitty giggled, his tail splashing the water in glee. He then sighed. "I wish you guys could stay here all the time..."

Jay and John looked at each other, and their smiles widened.

"About that..."

"We managed to get a spot in the woods that's within walking distance of the lake."

Smitty's eyes widened and he gasped, covering his mouth. "No."

"It's gonna be a while before the house is built, but it's gonna be built and we'll be able to visit every day. How about that?"

Smitty pulled both of them down, giving them both a big kiss. "You guys, I can't fucking believe you managed to do that!"

"We're surprised too, if we're being honest," John hummed. "Jay somehow managed to convince them that in the forest was a good idea."

Jay just winked, smile still plastered on to his face.

"Oh my God you guys, I'm gonna cry, this is amazing!"

They all laughed, and Jay wiped the almost tears from Smitty's eyes. Smitty playfully slapped the tendril away, "Get that away from me, I don't know where it's been."

"What do you mean! What do you think I do with these things?"

"Shove them up my ass, probably," John said nonchalantly. Jay and Smitty both made a face.

"Ew, I don't even wanna think of doing that."

"John you're so disgusting," Smitty giggled, splashing some water at him.

John covered his face, "No! Don't splash it at me! I haven't even started burning yet!"

Smitty rolled his eyes, a big smile still plastered on to his face.

The three stayed there for a majority of the day, talking and having a good time.

Soon they would be together more often, but for now, this would have to do.

#mckrii7y #fayfic

54 notes · View notes

shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 6 years

Text

7. Bass is heavy a.k.a. useful finger techniques, Dee Dee Ramone’s yelling and helpful octopuses

„Damn, I forgot Sly and Ethel in the van!” she groans and slaps on her forehead.

“No problem, I bring them with the next round.” Scully offers and disappears in the hallway that leads to the backdoor. I have no idea who Sly and Ethel can be but I don’t want to know it either… Now that she’s been left alone she tries to push the carriage trolley with the amps to its place on the stage. With little success. But her fight with the gear twice as heavy as her reminds me of a scene.

“Old woman!” I call her.

“Man!” she corrects me still pressing against the load at full strength. Okay, she passed the test again but that’s not a big deal, Monty Python’s Holy Grail basically became a mainstream movie by now, anybody could quote a few scenes from it. Okay, not everyone, none of my former girlfriends was familiar with absurd humor and neither is Amber. I got her to watch it with me but I gave up the mission and turned off the video recorder when she asked for the third time how much time was left of it. It’s just not for her.

“Okay, Dennis, where’s my cow?” I inquire while I’m helping her win the battle; otherwise hours later, the amps would still stand in the middle of the stage and our crowd would enjoy her hopeless struggle instead of the show.

“Are you deaf? Or just concentration problems?” she asks harshly, avoiding my glance and trying to ignore my intervention but her rush moves uncover the surprise she might feel about it.

“Hey, it’s not easy to talk with you, do you know? I asked you about something, I even emphasized my lack of information using a different tone, in grammar text books you can find the encyclopedic explanation in chapter “Question”.” I draw a question mark with my index finger in the air. “The next communication panel is the so-called “answer” in which you satisfy my need for details…” I gesture the quotation marks too.

“I won’t satisfy you in any way, excuse me…” she cuts me off and even tosses me away a bit as she steps dynamically to the monitor board to plug the cables into it.

“I’m just trying to ask where’s my…” I don’t need to finish the sentence since Scully arrives back with Dave’s stage prop, holding my cow under his arm.

“And I was trying to refer to the fact that we take care of Ethel and Sly.” she nods at the two mascots.

“Ethel?” I blurt out frowning. This chick isn’t sane, she was serious about searching for a name for it… “Since when has she been called Ethel?”

“Actually her name has always been Ethel, you’ve just never asked her about it.” she fixes her glasses with a wiseacre face. “She was quite unhappy, did you know that? I caught her searching for numbers of slaughterhouses in the phonebook as she wanted to volunteer to be a steak ingredient, no wonder knowing you. But when I told her we were traveling to Texas soon she immediately changed her mind. Now she wants to be the spokesperson of the anti-rodeo movement. A little care makes wonders.”

Her fantasy is quite intense, I have to admit.

“So you’re obsessed with stuffed animals?” I ask leaning against my Marshall and watch her wiring the stage with quick moves.

“…asks the guy who keeps one on his amplifier…” she mumbles darting at me for a second and raising one eyebrow. “What are you doing here, anyway? Are you supervising me or what? As far as I know I’m an unbearable person who makes the others admire her and uses her family ties…”

Nice attempt but not enough to distract me.

“…and who told, ahem, yelled at me that I should get to know her better, that’s what I’m trying to do right now.” I continue the sentence. “So tell me, Judith, how many stuffed animals do you have exactly? I bet there are a few ones in your bedroom… my first estimation would be somewhere between five and ten.”

“Oh yeah, my bedroom. Damn, you’ve got me… First of all there’s that huge teddy sitting on my bed, how did you figure it out? Then there’s the bunny in the armchair, the cute seal on my desk and my stuffed pony and unicorn collection, I gave up counting them a few years ago. And I have to mention that everything in the room is very pink and very fluffy. Do I meet the profile you created about me?” she bats her eyelashes.

Clever, but not clever enough to drive me to the wall.

“Actually, when I asked you about stuffed animals I was talking about stuffed animals. Like, dead animals which are stuffed. I mean, I could totally imagine a few stuffed bats, snakes and rats hanged on your shelves full of mysterious ingredients for occult purposes. Candles arranged on the points of a huge pentagram, right next to the coffin-shaped bed…”

“You left out the voodoo dolls. I have a bunch of them, the latest one I prepared wears denim pants and a Luv Co shirt tucked into them…” she approaches threatening me with a jack plug and for one second I think she’s about to stick it into my eyeball but in the last moment she changes direction and plugs it into the matching slot of the amp. I acknowledge, she didn’t need much time to know her way around our gear… But come on, even a chimpanzee can be trained how to put different solids into the right holes, she’s on the level of an average lab monkey. “But how come I turned from a nun into a witch in one single day? You’re pretty much inconsistent at insulting, Gossard…”

That makes sense. I open my mouth to cite the witch hunt scene from the mentioned movie but Scully intervenes in our conversation.

“Guys, if you go on like this I’ll claim payrise from Eric…”

“For what? How do you mean it?” she turns in his direction with hands on hips.

“Conflict management bonus.” he shrugs casually. “Seriously, could you just stop for a moment? For just a few seconds, I feel like I was at a fucking dogfight.”

“It was him who started it!” she exclaims outraged pointing at me.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know what she’s talking about.” I play dumb raising my hands in front of me.

“Jesus, you’re hopeless. Forget the stopping part, I just want the money.” Scully shakes his head resigned.

“Money? What money? I don’t know what’s going on here but I want money too.” Smitty enters in the company off Dave, Karrie and Jeff.

“When did everybody get so greedy? Actually, it is you who should pay me for my show, I’m the only one who keeps you entertained in this boring touring life.” I smirk as I begin to tune my orange Les Paul.

“As for me, I prefer boredom by all means.“ she rolls her eyes and begins to flipping through her notebook.

“Hey, Judy, we have a few spare hour after the soundcheck and I thought… I thought we could begin your bass guitar lessons.” Jeff scratches his nape holding his other hand deep in his pocket. Awkward loverboy alert… I pull a few steps away because I’m not interested in this embarrassing lovey-dovey but I also try to stay within earshot. Not that I give a shit about it, it’s just better to keep up with the sequels.

“Sure!” she smiles. “I mean, Karrie, do you have any plans for the rest of the afternoon? If you don’t, we could…”

“Beth wants to do some shopping, I forgot to mention it… so I’m going with her. I wanted to ask you too but I have a mind like a sieve…” Karrie answers suspiciously quickly.

“Oookay, then why not?”

“Your place or mine?” Jeff asks not noticing how ambiguous he sounds.

“Jesus, Jeff, you don’t waste your time, straight to the point…” I throw in, which makes the others stop staring them and suddenly everybody pretends to be busy with their work to hide their grins and snorts.

“There’s that small park near the hotel, what if we go there?” the target person of the courtship tries to ignore my remark but can’t disguise the tremble in her voice.

Clever, again. She picks a neutral place. Cautious enough not to show her closest surrounding and smart enough not to get in awkward situations. I mean, boys’ rooms tend to be quite messy, the mixed smell of sweat and deodorant for men, not to mention the stinky sneakers and boxers left on the bed…

“Great. I’ve already mapped out which things I want to show you first.” Jeff goes on enthusiastically and more awkwardly if it’s possible at all. I see Dave’s shoulders shaking as he kneels behind his bass drum to fake-fix its pedal.

“Let’s begin with the basics, I only learnt the most common chords to be able to play some accompaniment to campfire songs and nursery rhymes.” she insists on keeping the conversation under control but Jeff doesn’t seem to cooperate.

“I can teach you a few useful finger techniques.” he exercises the fingers of his bear paws with sincere innocence in his eyes but at this point everybody cracks up; even his future music student giggles bashfully.

“What’s with everyone?” he looks around confused. “What’s so funny?”

“You should… have… heard yourself...” Scully hiccups as he and Smitty collapse of uncontrollable laughter onto each other’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah. That conversation was… juicy.” Dave adds winking and doing unmistakable moves with his hips and arms.

“Oh fff…” Jeff buries his face into his palms replaying the scene in his head. Dave steps to him to pat his shoulders a few times.

“You know what, Ames? You shouldn’t talk so much about what you’re going to do. Just… do it.”

***

“So what’s your plan with that skateboard?” Judy asks while we’re walking in the park searching for a remote place. She hasn’t come up with that awkward conversation yet and I can’t be grateful enough to her for that. I don’t know what happened to me, usually I’m not that clueless type… I was probably way too much focused on the possible outcome of this day. If can I stick to my plan, I’m going to ask her out in like one hour and I have absolutely no idea what she might answer and that drives me crazy. Cool down, Ament, don’t act like a junior high school student before his first prom…

“Uhm… I know it sounds surprising but I thought I could skateboard here…” Aaaand in the category of meaningless answers, the Oscar goes to… drumbeat… Jeffrey Allen Ament, Big Sandy, Montana!!! “Plus, I thought if being a qualified musician, you found the class boring, we could spice it up with some physical challenges… like… you should play bass lines while rolling and balancing on this skateboard. And if it was still a piece of cake for you we could search for a skate park with half pipes and you could even do somersaults and flips.”

“I don’t know… I’m not an athletic type… I’ve only tried to ride a scooter once in my life. Mary Sue Kellerman, my classmate lent me hers on the playground when we were second graders. She explained and showed me how to do it but somehow I didn’t feel the technique, I stepped on it, drove it a few times and enjoyed the speed so much that I forgot to drive it again.” she giggles.

“And… what happened?”

“Seeing I was slowing down she yelled after me like ”Drive, drive!” but I felt paralyzed, I pulled up gradually and ended up tumbling from a standing position…”

“Poor you! But my first skateboarding attempts weren’t glorious either and I still collect a few injuries when I decide to learn a new trick. But I fell in love with it at first… try, and I never want to give it up.”

“You could be a cool, skateboarding grandpa who shocks the youth!”

We find a calm, trellis-like corner and settle down still discussing the same topic. Unlike most girls I know, she doesn’t mind it at all and when I tell her how my father convinced me to build my own skateboard instead of buying that expensive Stacy Peralta board, she turns out to know him. I can’t believe my ears when she mentions Tony Alva too, I mean, who’s this girl?

“And how did you pick up how to play the guitar?” she nods towards the bass on my lap.

“Believe or not I took a few lessons… But they were boring, at least for me, no chords, no songs, only scales…”

“Scales are important!” she corrects me. I always forget that she’s pretty conscious as for music which isn’t typical at all in the band.

“What can I say… I grew up listening to my uncle’s records and as I could spare some money I spent all of it on ordering music magazines and vinyls. And when I started playing bass I figured out how to use my stereo vinyl player to learn Dee Dee Ramone’s parts.”

“I love them!” she exclaims.

“Really? I mean, you know a lot about music and punk songs aren’t very sophisticated concerning the musical part…”

“But that’s the best in punk. Even if you’re not very talented technically you still can play a bunch of songs… or if you can’t, you can still reproduce Dee Dee Ramone’s totally out-of-rhythm “one-two-three-four” yelling. And most punk songs operate with the classic scale degrees. Ramones also use the holy trinity of tonic, subdominant and dominant like the greatest composers before them and…” she jabbers enthusiastically without breathing.

“Waitwaitwait, stop! I don’t have the faintest clue what you’re talking about, if you want to analyze my favorite songs to me you have to go back to Genesis to make it understandable for this Montanan jerk!” I cut her off chuckling.

“Do you mean the Old Testament or the band?” she grins. “Anyway, it’s very simple, look.”

She grabs the instrument out of my lap, disposes it onto hers and strums all strings one after another.

“Normal basses are tuned like double basses, right?“ To my nodding she names them. “E, A, D, G. So, let’s take Blitzkrieg Bop which is written in A major.” She plays the bass line of the mentioned song flawlessly and explains its chord progression in the meantime. I listen to her with dropped jaw and when she falls silent for a second, I take my bass quickly back.

“Okay, the lesson is over, excuse me but I have to go and bury myself alive.” I remark trying to keep a straight face.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t want to sound like a nerd or show off with my theoretical knowledge, I…”

“You don’t have to apologize for amazing me! But now it’s my turn to amaze you… Do you like graffiti?”

“I don’t know… I’m ambivalent… there are a few ones which look good and are also meaningful but if someone destroys a clear wall with stupid scrawls…” she frowns.

Oh. That’s not a good sign… Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…

“I prefer the creative ones too, such as my friend from the art school. He studied photography and spent his last years with shooting the best graffiti he’s seen all across the country and Canada and his exhibition opens on Thursday in Boston. And since we have a day off right that day, right there, I thought you could join.” I utter fast with one big breath. She stares me silently for a few seconds which seem like an eternity.

“ ’Course. Cool.” she answers briefly as if she was declaring something evident. I don’t have too much time to process the positive reception since she begins to roll my skateboard back and forth with her foot.

“Your introduction made me curious, I want to try this diabolical device.”

“Haha, okay, but only if I can walk next to you, you may need a handhold.”

She steps onto the board and she rolls cautiously on the path where we got here in a few minutes. She’s too busy with balancing to notice the rest of the band approaching from the gate.

“Hey Jeff, a suspicious woman is trying to steal your baby!” Eddie shouts.

“Look, guys I’m skateboaaaaaa…” she has to circle with her arms a few times and grab my shoulder to prevent herself from tumbling.

“Carefully, Judy. You should try surfing, it improves sense of balance and falling in water is safer than concrete.” Ed recommends.

“Say yes, if you don’t want to be fired…” Mike whisper-shouts hiding his face with one hand from Eddie preventing him from hearing it, which is obviously totally unnecessary.

“I’m not a big swimmer, so…” she shrugs apologetically.

“Anyway, did Jeff force you to try it? You can answer by signaling with your eyelids…” Mike jokes on.

“No, she just turned out to be a way better bass player than me. So I’ll quit the band and she’s begun to practice before she has to take over all of my tasks.”

“Ah, I see. Judy, I warn you, you’ll have to slam-dance with me. You should gain some weight, I don’t want to kill you…”

“Ed’s right. I’m going to slap you in the face with the guitar neck a few times… I mean literally… but no offense, you can hit back anytime you want or you can land on my foot after jumps from the monitor box like Jeff does…”

Judy wrinkles her nose as she tries to follow the relay of jokes. Stone – who has stayed silent until now – flashes an evil grin and clears his throat. The well-known first signs of his moronic verbal diarrhea.

“Guys, you forgot to prepare her for the most important circumstances. But that’s why I am the band leader… Judith, you have to do some shopping. The polyester basketball shirts are essential parts of our stage look, we can’t allow ourselves losing them just because Jeff quits. And the hats… that’s a more difficult question, they look quite… unique… so I don’t think you have any other choice than borrow them. Do you have sensitive scalp? Because… nevermind, I can lend you a few bandanas to make it more hygienic. Oh, and at certain points of the shows you’ll have to strip. Jeff often drops his shirt and plays on half-naked as you could already see it, you can’t break this tradition. But you also have to keep the hat on your head, don’t ask me why, that’s the rule.”

I sway my guitar case pretending I want to hit him and in the meantime I bite my lower lip to repress my grin. Stone is an idiot but sometimes he has good ideas… I mean obviously I can relate to that plot if I can be in the crowd… Jesus, when did I become such a sexist? I’ve just asked the poor girl out and… I’d better take a cold shower.

***

“And can we see you on TV on Saturday?” I ask rolling the film with my finger back and forth on the table. When Judy called me I was selecting pictures I want to show to Krisha as reference works and I found a few ones which I have to have developed.

“Nah, I don’t think so. We’re going to be with the guys in the studio but we’re not going to be filmed with the cameras. I think Karrie and Brett will have to work with the sound staff in the control room and I… I don’t know yet, if they let me in too I’ll just watch them like a useless idiot… which I am…”

“Control room? Wow, that sounds like a sci-fi, I can totally imagine the Star Trek characters there…” I deliberately ignore her low self-esteem-powered remark. “I’ve also seen in the previews that Sharon Stone would host the show, that’s an interesting combination…”

“Yep, Eric mentioned the creators wanted a funny scene or spot with her and the band but I don’t know if they can find a common ground. They only want to play music and aren’t interested in show business at all.”

“Maybe they want to gag with their physical appearance. Like, Sharon is tall and her legs are unrealistically long whereas Eddie is short so the screenwriters may figure out a joke about him being able to walk between her legs without bowing his head.” I guess as I start rummaging the photo heaps in front of me.

“Haha, you’re evil! You have no right to joke about Ed’s height, you’re a dwarf just like me…”

“But dwarf jokes are the best ones, you have to admit it. And… what are your plans until Saturday? Have you used the tape recorder yet?”

“Noooo…”

“You’re unbelievable, I’ve said you should…”

“…borrow a guitar, I know. Uhm, yesterday Jeff gave me a bass lesson, does that count?”

“Mmmmh, Jeff Ament?” I ask meaningfully. Since Judy joined the staff I played with the idea of them getting together, he seems to match her.

“No, Jeff Goldblum… of course Jeff Ament, who else? And he also let me ride his skateboard.”

“He let you ride his skateboard? That’s how you call it? It’s that a new slang or…” I cackle.

“Shut up, I meant it literally. No slang, no obscene details.” she cuts me off severely. So typical, usually she isn’t against sex related jokes but when actual guys around her come into play, she suddenly turns into a prude spinster.

“Okay, okay, I was just kidding. I’m just surprised, you haven’t mentioned yet you two spend time alone.” Actually I’m happy for these news, not only because I think they’d click but also because in the first ten minutes of our conversation she was cursing Stone Gossard. And even if only the half of what she claimed is true, I can’t blame her; the dude must be quite obnoxious. But still, she barely mentions anyone else from the band and I’m afraid if she goes on like this, these negative feelings will spoil her tour. “And how went the skateboarding? Did you collect a few bruises?”

“Haha, not yet. I didn’t try any tricks and I was probably quite clumsy but he kept encouraging me, he’s a nice guy. And ah, as for plans, he asked me whether I want to go to the photo exhibition of his friend in Boston. The guy invited them and Jeff asked me to join too.”

“That sounds great! And what kind of photos?”

“Photos of interesting graffiti. Jeff used to draw graffiti as well, did you know that? He told me a lot about himself but not in that annoying way when one is talking and talking and isn’t interested in the listener at all… this and the fact Eric defended me and they even gave me a cake… and that Jeff invited me with the bunch… make me feel they really accepted me as a member of the crew… and… oh, shit, I have to go, we have to set off for the show! Kisses for Mom and Granny!”

“Bye, take care of…” It’s needless to finish the sentence since she hung up in the meantime.

A few minutes later, I can hear the key turning in the lock and Mom literally falls in the apartment with her heavy shopping bags.

“You should have knocked, I would have helped you if you had asked me…” I shake my head and collect the apples and small cans which rolled everywhere on the ground.

“If I can give injection to Mrs. Mueller while she’s yelling at me calling me Gestapo’s slut, I can do everything…”

“Your foundation should employ octopuses, they are strong, can use their legs independently and are good listeners. And some of your clients wouldn’t even wonder if one crawled into their home…”

“That’s sure. I ask the opinion of my boss about it.” she settles to the table staring exhausted in front of herself.

“Anyway, you’ve just missed Judy’s call.”

“Damn… I wanted to hear her voice, I literally tossed Mrs. Muller into her bed to finish earlier…”

“Unfortunately you can’t see her either… I asked her about Saturday Night Live and we won’t see her in the show… But we still could watch it together, I would show you the guys and tell everything I’ve heard about them from her. We could make some popcorn and…”

“Oh, sweetie, haven’t I mentioned yet? I… I have to work…” she suddenly gets embarrassed.

“What? In the evening? On Saturday? By the time the show begins your clients are already sleeping the sleep of the just.” I complain.

“I know, but… there’s a former colleague from the hospital who works now in a nursing home. A few nurses quitted and I thought we could use the extra money so she recommended me to her boss as an occasional substitute nurse. And I begin on Saturday.”

Great. Since when have we concealed things like this from each other? I thought we could finally have a mother-daughter evening when she didn’t talk only about the insufferable old terrorists and didn’t pass out of exhaust right after dinner… she should finally relax and I need her company too, since Judy left I’ve felt like a lonely prisoner. And that’s more important than money, we don’t starve and if I got a few jobs I could contribute to our budget too, I wouldn’t be the cripple anymore who costs them a lot.

“And why didn’t you tell me that? Is it a secret or what?”

“Effie, honey, stop pouting, please. You can record it to me and we can watch it on Sunday. And I won’t even say a word if you stop it at every single shot, I’m going to listen to every single detail about these jam boys, I promise.”

“Mmmkay…” I mutter. I don’t like this patronizing voice, I’m not a toddler, I just want her to be honest with me.

“And what are you doing? Selecting pictures?”

“Yes… nothing particular…”

If she doesn’t tell me everything, why should I, right?

#pearljam #fanfiction #fanfic #I'm too tired to proofread it properly #sorry #pearl jam #pearljamfanfic #eddie vedder #stone gossard #mike mccready #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese

12 notes · View notes

vagrantblvrd · 6 years

Text

A Thousand Miles Up (1/1)

Summary: As far as these things go, Trevor’s pretty good at not getting caught. Has made something of a career out of it even, you might say, so this -

Not really his best day.

Notes: Prompt fill for Anonymous who asked for Alfreyco with this prompt: 65: “Did you do something different with your hair?”

Takes place in the same verse as Cat Scratch Fever, Belling the Cat, and No Road Too Long.

AO3

As far as these things go, Trevor’s pretty good at not getting caught. Has made something of a career out of it even, you might say, so this -

Not really his best day.

Not even in the running for the top forty.

It isn’t as though he’s forgotten how dangerous his line of work is (no way to do that, really, with so many helpful reminders), or underestimating his targets (he learned not to do that a while back).

It’s just...bad luck.

Trevor bites back a laugh (now is not the time) as he studies the little room they’ve got him all locked up in.

Four walls (always a must). Floor that dips down with a little grate in the center (best not think about why), and a small window set high up on one of those four walls.

Slit of a thing, four, five inches high at most and try as he might, Trevor’s never going to fit through it.

No, no.

Just this tiny room and the chair Trevor’s sitting in. Hands behind his back and this bunch is smarter than most because those aren’t handcuffs he could pick with his eyes closed, no.

Heavy-duty zip-ties that he can’t break without the proper tools (the reason he prefers footwear with laces when he’s working) or the proper leverage. (Zip-ties on his wrists and another connecting them to the back of the metal chair he’s sitting in, simple but effective.)

All his little gadgets and doodads taken off him when they caught him, that sharp little ache in his shoulder, back, where the darts hit him and this pounding in his head from the tranquilizer. The bruises he can all but feel forming because he was nearly out the window when his body decided it had had enough and shut down on him.

He still has his mask, though, so very thoughtful of them considering the way his reputation’s caught up to him here in Los Santos.

Press all abuzz at his return, questioning the whys and hows of it.

Those with a flair for the dramatic wondering if something’s forced him out of retirement – a bad case of revenge or something else. A few brave souls wondering if he isn’t just a copycat looking for attention. (Moment of glory before some lucky bastard gets a shot at him and what a tragic story it makes, perfect for movie with a plot ripped straight from the headlines.)

And then there’s the criminal element, old clients and targets both, taking an interest in his reappearance in the best/worst ways and the trouble that’s followed him here. (Well, the smattering of trouble that followed him here, along with all new kinds he runs into these days.)

Trevor sighs as the door opens, and the leader of this particular little group saunters in. Bit of a swagger to his walk, this unbearably smug look on his face as he stops in front of Trevor.

Trevor gets a glimpse of his little cronies through the open door before it closes. Intimidating figures in their uniforms and the kind of training they’d exhibited earlier when they managed to catch him. Not people to be toyed with and expect to get away with things for long.

“Well, well, well,” the man says, all annoying smugness and this certain element of sheer delight. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Trevor makes a face, almost wishing he didn’t have his mask on because that’s just an awful thing to say, now isn’t it.

“Oh, hey, let me help you with that,” Trevor hears, and then there are hands slipping behind his head to pull his mask off, cool air on his skin and face bared for just anyone to see. (Scandalous.)

Trevor blinks up at the man studying his mask. Thoughtful look on his face as he turns it this way and that, fingers running over the deep scratch a little too close one of the eye-lenses for Trevor’s peace of mind. (Token from an admirer on a previous job, sweet little nothings and that knife he seemed so fond of.)

“I keep meaning to get it replaced,” Trevor says, nodding at the mask. “But I’ve just been so busy this last little while. You know how it is.”

Places to break into, things to steal, the usual.

The man snorts, and gives up studying whatever secrets he seems to think he can pull from Trevor’s mask and moves on to Trevor himself.

“Ooh,” Trevor says, returning the favor as he tips his head to the side. “Did you do something different with your hair?”

It’s been a while since they’ve run into each other after all, Trevor out of Los Santos for work. (Busy, busy, busy.)

There’s a beat, the man looking at him all incredulous and the like, and then a self-conscious laugh.

“Uh, yeah,” he says as he lifts a hand to his hair, just shy of touching it. “Thought I’d try something new, you know? What do you think?”

Trevor hums, thinking, thinking, thinking about it, just to be a bit of an asshole about things.

“Well,” he says, drawing the word out a few extra syllables before he smiles. “I think it looks great. Very sharp. Professional.”

He gets a laugh for that, almost embarrassed, and a shy little smile inching it’s way back to unbearably smug again.

“Yours, uh -”

“Perils of the job,” Trevor says, because he’s well aware his own hair is a disheveled mess. Flat and lifeless thanks to his suit and running around the way he was earlier. “Sacrifices must be made and so on and so forth.”

There’s a whole speech involved. One Trevor’s saving for a dire moment for the most dramatic impact, but that’s neither here nor there.

Not with the way he’s being watched, eyes flicking over him, taking in all the little hurts that comes with his line of work.

Small bruises, a cut here and there. Scrapes and other odds and ends from flinging himself at the side of a building and shimmying way along ledges. Crawling through vents and ducts and that thrill of satisfaction as he evaded guards and magicked his way to the heart of the building and got his little hands on the files he was hired to steal.

The...less successful escape he’d attempted and the surprise at realizing he’d been outmaneuvered almost from the outset.

Not something that happened all that often, but given who he was playing against here, he’s not entirely surprised.

No.

“So,” Trevor says, pulling at his binds, soft sound of plastic against the metal of the chair catching his captor's attention. “What now?”

And oh, the look he gets for that. Very NSFW indeed, but the minions are on the other side of the door and they’re still both on the clock, so to speak.

“My dear sir,” Trevor says, putting a little Southern belle into it as he offers up his most scandalized look. “How dare you, I am a lady.”

That earns him another look, this one flatly unimpressed. (Definitely questioning his honor and integrity.)

Also, a knife.

Big shiny thing he gets a good view of before his captor moves behind him, slight tugging motion as he cuts through the zip-ties.

Trevor rubs his wrists when he brings his arms in front of him, eyeing his captor as the man moves to stand before him again.

There’s a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Bad night?”

Trevor could let it go at that, chalk it up to him being off his game. Still some rust to shake off, but the fact of the matter is that’s not the truth at all, now is it.

“Hmm, no,” Trevor says, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Your minions are getting better, Fredo.”

Have been for some time, really.

Geoff and Alfredo taking advantage to Trevor’s unique skill-set to test their own security. Learning to anticipate the unexpected and all that lovely business, getting only enough warning to know which target Trevor’s set his eyes on so they’d know to switch out their more lethal weapons for tranquilizer darts and tasers and the like. (Non-lethal but still damn inconvenient.)

Trevor headed for a lovely little prize of his choosing while Alfredo and his minions were meant to stop him from succeeding. All fun and games, really. Trevor running rings around them for months, Alfredo the only one good enough to get close enough to him in all that time.

Cat-and-mouse chases through various facilities, rooftop meetings, and Trevor laughing at the frustrated look on Alfredo’s face as he got away time and time again.

...until tonight, that is.

“Yeah?” Alfredo says, losing the sharp edge that had led his minions through tonight’s exercises. Going soft and familiar as anything as he looks down at Trevor. “You think so?”

Trevor smiles up at him.

“Would I lie to you about something like that, Alfredo?”

A great many other things, yes indeed, for better or worse, but this?

“Well,” Alfredo says, mimicking Trevor’s little drawl from earlier. “The thought had crossed my mind.”

Well, yes, okay.

Point to Alfredo, but they’re working right now, aren’t they?

“No,” Trevor says, all honesty now. “They are getting better. Smitty almost caught me when I snuck in, in fact. Kudos to her.”

Alfredo cocks his head, and Trevor sighs, oh so very put out as he goes into detail regarding Alfredo’s minions and the ways in which they’re improving.

This bunch of misfits and outcasts Geoff’s gathered to him and decided the best person to ride herd on them now that he has is Alfredo. Letting him run them through drills and exercises to mold them into this impressive force unfailingly loyal to Geoff and the crew.

It’s been so very entertaining watching play out as Trevor sows chaos and confusion among them with these little exercises.

After a few minutes Trevor realizes Alfredo’s watching him, this little curl to his mouth that’s all about fondness and affection and what a giant sap he is, which is fitting seeing as Trevor’s in the same boat when it comes to Alfredo.

“What.”

“Nothing,” Alfredo says, completely suspiciously as he gestures at Trevor’s face. “You just have something here.”

Trevor’s eyes narrow, because that’s one of the oldest tricks in the book isn’t it, but he still raises a hand to wipe whatever it is (isn’t) off, only for Alfredo to make this little face.

“No, no,” Alfredo says, and there's a little smirk tucked into his voice, the line of his mouth. “Here, let me.”

Trevor eyes him for a long moment before he tips his face up.

Absolutely not surprised at all when Alfredo kisses him, this cheeky little thing like he thinks he’s gotten away with stealing a kiss from him all clever-like.

“There,” Alfredo says, pulling back, smug little grin on his face and a sparkle in his eye. “Got it.”

“My hero,” Trevor says dryly.

Alfredo laughs, holding a hand out to help Trevor to his feet.

They still need to debrief Alfredo’s minions. Go over everything that happened tonight. Talk about ways to deal with situations like this in the future, Trevor offering up tips and advice on what to expect from people like him. (Tricky and clever and not the sort to abide by the usual rules. Innovators, really, in the business of liberating trinkets and other valuables from the undeserving.)

Not what he’d been expecting when he followed Alfredo out here, but it’s certainly never dull.

#Prompt Fills #Anon #Alfreyco #ragehappy #Nine Lives #vagrant fic

10 notes · View notes

chinxino5-blog · 6 years

Text

who are you

suckles oneshot warnings: mentions of being drunk, coarse language. 2268 words

note: sorry this is literally so trashy. it was better in my head. really bad when i edited. i dont have the time to re-edit tho or rewrite - it’s just bad quality. but i still hope it can be of some enjoyment.

next oneshot will be better i promise.

Mason’s head was pounding. And by pounding, he meant it was splitting seven different ways and simultaneously imploding in on itself.

“Urghh.” The moan of pain slipped out of his dry mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Light from somewhere was filling the room he laid in and it threw more kindling on the fire of his agony.

Unfortunately, his mind refused to let him resume his slumber, only becoming more and more conscious with every the moment he laid splayed out on likely Toby’s couch, if he remembered the end of his night correctly: far too late and far too drunk. Seeing as there was no possible way he’d be able to open his eyes painlessly for a number of long minutes, he allowed his senses and very broken memory to fill him in on what had happened in the previous twelve hours.

He remembered drinking with Cam until very late. It had been John’s birthday… no- it had been Smitty’s! And with his dumb friends it was tradition on someone’s birthday to get absolutely fuckin’ smashed.

So unsurprisingly, they did.

From the celebrations, the cheering, the dancing: after losing count of how many drinks he’d had, his memory only seemed to be able to catch bits and pieces of the rest of the night. Smitty was definitely sitting in John’s lap at one point, and the images of Cam downing shot after shot across the table flashed behind his eyes. He knew himself well enough to guess he had been doing exactly the same. Other than that, he recalled little to nothing: only climbing back in through Toby’s window and collapsing wherever he deemed comfortable in his drunken haze.

Trying to clear his head and sharpen out the blurry memories was steadily becoming more and more difficult so the Australian stopped himself, letting out a heavy sigh and turning his face more into the cushioning beneath his head.

As he shifted he felt the sticky skin of his back peel away from the leather couch, only to resettle in a sweaty mess of discomfort.

Huh.

He’d also lost his shirt sometime during the night too, it seemed.

But since when did Toby have a leather couch?

… Mason gave this another few minutes of careless though before furrowing his brows. Toby didn’t have a leather couch. He’d spent weeks living in that house! He knew there wasn’t a single bit of leather furniture in there – so how on Earth was Mason laying on a leather couch?

He regretted opening his eyes instantly. Even just a crack. The brightness poured gasoline into his head, flames erupting outwards.

“Aw, fuck,” he groaned, throat feeling red-raw and just as agonizing as his head.

But no matter the pain, Mason did not like the idea of being not in Toby’s house. So with the limited energy he had, he lifted his hands to cover his eyes and lessened the pain of opening them. He blinked.

This was officially the worst hangover he’d ever had.

Peering through his fingers, it was very easy to confirm he was, indeed, not in Toby’s living room. He wasn’t even in Toby’s house. Had his headache not been so consuming, he probably would have been a lot more concerned. But with this level of agony, all he wanted was a glass of water and some painkillers.

He sat upright, peeling his hot skin from the sticky couch and cringing at both the feeling and the headache. A pair of black skinny jeans were laying on the floor, one leg still caught on one of his feet and he mentally thanked his intoxicated-self for having the common sense not to fall asleep in them.

In his exhaustion, he took a moment to glance around at the room he laid in.

There was a very casual, careless atmosphere to it, not that clean but also not grossly untidy. Another brown leather couch sat beside the one he occupied, both angled to face a big screen that sat on the wall above a cabinet that showed off several different consoles and a rack of coloured controllers.

There was a window either side of the screen, the left one wide open (obviously having been Mason’s entry point the night previous). He wondered for a minute what kind of idiot left their windows unlocked and unalarmed, before swinging his legs off the couch and standing up. Hands on his hips, he stretched up and yawned widely.

The little wooden coffee table had a few magazines and an empty bowl, and his toes curled in the fluffy carpet that covered the floor of the comfy room. The walls were painted a soft grey, matching the white of the carpet. But Mason could tell his attention was not gonna be able to stay with the room for much longer.

Sitting back down and kicking his foot out of his jeans, he picked them up and breathed a sigh of relief to find his phone and wallet still in the pockets.

Friday. 22:03.

john but not really john: mason come home soon and let yourself in

john but not really john: the doors unlocked

Saturday. 00:42.

john but not really john: mason youre gonna die if you keep drinking

john but not really john: you and fitz come back here

john but not really john: come on you fucking dumbass check your phone

Saturday. 00:53.

Missed call from john but not really john.

Incoming call from Missed call from john but not really john.

Saturday. 1:39.

john but not really john: mason. home. now.

zuck my ass: oksy muuuuuuuuuuuiuimm

zuck my ass: hheeheh

john but not really john: is fitz with you

zuck my ass: fitzfitzzyyy is wih dniittttyyyyyyy

john but not really john: okay are you coming now

zuck my ass: eslkinf nowee!!

zuck my ass: vlinmbing in urr wondpw!@!!@

Saturday. 2:31.

john but not really john: where the fuck are you

john but not really john: i hate you. let yourself in if you get here

john but not really john: im going to sleep

john but not really john: text me in the morning.

Oh.

Toby was gonna be pissed with him. He didn’t remember answering a call at all. Well… He didn’t remember anything to do with his phone in general. He definitely remembered climbing in a window though. It just wasn’t the right window.

Whoops.

The pounding in his head was only getting louder and heavier and he was not ready to call Toby for help without getting some sort of medicine and some damn water. He just hoped the owner of this house was either asleep, or not home.

The second he was in the hallway, he noticed just how silent the place was. There wasn’t a single sound. No ticking of clocks, no sounds from plumbing or electricity. The lights were all off but the morning was bright enough to make things clear. Everything seemed very still and calm.

Perhaps the eeriness of it made him so cautious as he stepped down the hall, staying on the balls of his feet in fear of making any sort of sound. All he needed was water and painkillers. Fortunately, the kitchen was just at the end of the hall, a couple of dried clean dishes in a rack on the sink and a bowl of fruit on the bench.

Mason felt no regret in running the tap cold and lapping at the water like a kid. The cool liquid quietened the clanging in his ears and he sighed, standing upright and wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.

Now painkillers…

He pulled open drawers, finding utensils, baking instruments, bags, bowls, cups and mugs; everything a kitchen would have. But he didn’t come across any sort of medicine. In his search, he forgot that he wasn’t really supposed to be in this house.

“Hey!” The shout scared Mason out of his skin, the scrawny boy jumping in fear and smacking his head on the door of the overhead cabinet.

“Shit!” he cried out, gripping his head with both hands and turning to face the man in the doorway. He took in messy brown hair, sharp dark eyes and the metal baseball bat held tightly with both hands and staggered back a few steps. “Who the fuck are you!”

“Who the fuck am I!? This is my house!” The combination of complete confusion, panic and fear smacked them both in the face as the homeowner took two steps forward and pointed the bat at Mason. “Who the fuck are you!” Mason stumbled back until he met the counter, eyes wide and fearful at the idea that this guy might actually fuck him up with the metal bat.

The guy waited, bat still held out but making no motion of actually attacking the random stranger in his kitchen. “Uhh…” Mason glanced around the room, eyes wide and fearful. Thoughts of how exactly he’d escape the room ran through his head in the chance this guy actually tried to hit him. “Mason?” He said his own name with confusion and after another long moment, the baseball bat lowered to point to the floor and the homeowner lifted a hand to his face with a sigh.

“Mason.” The guy spoke with a tone of defeat, realising that the boy was completely harmless. “Why the fuck are you in my house?” he asked, voice far more calm and flat. It was thick with lethargy, and he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and finger.

With his heartrate lowering back to a humane level, Mason took a deep breath. Unsurprisingly, there was no explainable answer to the guy’s question and he didn’t even try to stop the dumb sounding: “Uhh…” from drifting off his tongue.

The guy blinked, brows raised. A moment passed and dark eyes dropped from Mason’s confused face to the rest of him. “Why are you naked?”

Mason’s eyes widened, falling to look at himself in surprise. “Oh fuck,” he said, the biting cold of the room suddenly making a lot more sense. When he looked back up at the guy, he ran his fingers through his hair and tried to make some resemblance of a smile. To relieve the awkwardness? Maybe to come off as friendly? He didn’t know his own intentions, but he knew his headache was getting more and more murderous by the second. “Hey, uh. Do you have any painkillers?”

Another moment. He took a step forward and Mason jumped in alarm, fearing the worst. Instead, the bat was placed on the kitchen counter and the guy ignored Mason, walking to the furthest overhead cabinet. From inside, he pulled a marker and a box of painkillers. He pulled a glass from the drawer beneath, filling it with water and placing it on the bench beside the stranger.

He didn’t give away anything with his expression, other than exhaustion in the bags beneath his eyes. Mason flinched back when a pale hand held itself open in front of him, waiting. Cautiously, he mirrored the action, trying not to react when the man took hold of the back of his wrist and easily popped two pills from the packet into the palm of his hand.

He closed his fingers around them, confusion growing when the hand slipped up further to grip his forearm, uncapping the marker. But something about the guy encouraged him to stay quiet and not bother him with questions. He just waited, soft tip inking numbers along his arm.

“Door’s out there. If I hear you banging around in my house any longer I’ll bury you.” Mason listened in surprise, hand finally released and feeling cold in contrast of the warm fingers that lifted to card through soft-looking brown hair. “Text me and tell me what happened in a few hours when I can actually process shit.”

The ten-digit number made his skin tingle and Mason blinked. The sound of the man’s voice was nice to listen to: deep and rounded. It was unlike other voices he’d heard before and he barely paid attention to what he was telling him, too focused on the sound of his voice. “Uhh, sure. Okay. Thanks.”

He took a step back. The dark eyes scanned him again.

“D’you have clothes?” Curious, still sleepy. Mason glanced down at his nudity again, mouth opening to offer an answer only to be stopped by the guy’s hand held up to face him. “Y’know what? Never mind. I don’t actually give a fuck. Just drink that and go home, uhh… Marson?”

He snorted. “Mason,” he corrected and the guy nodded, waving his hand vaguely.

“Yeah. Mason.”

With that, the homeowner nodded and walked past Mason and out into the hall. He watched him go, confused and stunned and slightly amused in his hungover. The painkillers went down his throat easy and the water helped considerably in refreshing his hot head. Rinsing the cup and sitting it in the sink, he returned to the living room, snatched up his jeans and opened up the phone app.

A sigh greeted him when he put the phone to his ear and he couldn’t help the immature grin on his face at his friend’s dissatisfaction. “Hey Toby,” he said, pinning the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He staggered, trying to yank the jeans up over his feet.

“Where are you?” Tired and already fed up.

Mason giggled. “I climbed into some guy’s house through his window.”

“For fuck’s sake, Zuckles. You’re kidding”

“Nah.”

note: again! sorry for the trash-tier writing. ill try improve on it when i have something better plot and better planned to get out here

#suckles #suckles fic #suckles fanfic #swaggersouls #zuckles #not romantic #gbg #gbg fic #gbg fanfic #gay baby gang #idk man #its trashy and just a what the fuck fic bt here you go

48 notes · View notes

xxnoobydoobyxx · 7 years

Text

The family Brock over looked

A/N: Heyoo guys, I hope you have all be wonderful these past few days. I got this idea a few days ago and decided to write it.

This mainly focus’ on Brock, or Moosnuckel, and how he realized his family. I really hope you all like this.

Ships: Mentioned H2ovanoss, Daithidecalibre, terrornuckel, and more.

Please enjoy,

______________________

Brock had always wanted to be a parent, he’d always wanted kids in general. He’d see kids holding their parents hand while crossing the street or playing at the park when he drove by, and he’d silently wish that one day he would be able to do that.

That dream was crushed, however, the second he and the others created BBS, or Banana Bus Squad, and started rising to the tops of most powerful gangs in Los Santos.

But that didn’t stop him from silently wishing so, or staying awake at night next to Brian envisioning a life where they could raise a kid and have a family together.

~~~~

Brock grinned to himself as he watched everyone; Brian, Evan, Jonathan, Tyler, Craig, Lui, Nogla, Smitty, John, Marcel, And even Scotty; sit around the giant living space, joking and laughing with one another as they ate his homemade meal.

Smitty was wrapped up in John’s arms, yelling ‘YEET’ as he threw an empty water bottle across the room, hitting Jonathan in the head as he perched on Evan’s lap.

Tyler and Craig double over in laughter, followed by Nogla’s booming laugh and Lui’s small giggles.

Brian snorted from his seat by Brock’s side, the Irish man’s arm around his waist.

Just seeing them all happy made Brock the happiest man in the world.

~~~~

If Brock could have the family he always wanted,

he would protect them with his life,

~~~~

Brock let out a scream of outrage as he put himself in between an injured Tyler and his attacker, not about to let the fucker hurt his family again.

“ Don’t touch him!”

~~~~

Comfort them when they were hurt,

~~~~

Brock gently wiped the tears out of Smitty’s eyes and pulled him into a soft hug, as he finished stitching up, what was, a bullet wound.

“ Shh, it’s over now. No more pain, you can rest now, it’s okay.” He whispered, rocking the white haired boy back and forth, making him drift off to sleep, right in his arms.

“ I’m right here.”

~~~~

Or scared,

~~~~

Brock caged Lui tightly in his arms, trying his best to shield him from the loud booms and cracks of the thunder storm raging outside. The usually bright male, lay trembling in his arms, utterly terrified.

Brock could feel tears staining the front of his shirt and tightening his grip, he whispered;

“ You’re safe, I promise; I’ll always keep you safe. I’ll always be right here, right here with you.”

~~~~

and take care of them when they were sick.

~~~~

As Brock pressed the cool cloth to Nogla’s head, he sung softly;

“ Goodnight, goodnight It's time now to sleep Moo’s watching over You and your dreams Goodnight, goodnight My sweet Irish one Tomorrow your eyes They will light up the sun But goodnight, goodnight Sweet dreams for now Drift off to sleep On your pillow of clouds Goodnight, goodnight My sweet Irish friend Tomorrow's adventures They will soon begin Tomorrow's adventures Will soon begin”

As he finished the song, he leaned down and gently kissed the top of Nogla’s head.

“ Sweet dreams David, you’ll feel better in no time. I promise, until then, I’ll be right here.”

~~~~

He wanted to be someone they felt they could come to about anything,

~~~~

“ -And he’s just so cute! And he does this thing, whenever he shoots, with his tongue and I just… I just can’t! It’s so cute Brock! You don’t understand!” Marcel whined, throwing his hands into the air.

Brock smiled knowingly, he’d seen the way Scott shot and how Marcel always stared, almost with literal hearts in his eyes, and it always brought a smile to his face. The two of them were both so in love with each other that they didn’t notice the feeling was mutual.

And as much as the guys acted big and tough on heists and in public, they were really just a bunch of softies with emotional issues.

“ Well,you could just tell him.” Brock said confidentially, having had a similar conversation with Scott a few days prior.

Marcel looked at him then, eyes wide.

“ But, what if he doesn’t feel the same? I’d ruin the only bond I have with him!”

“ He’ll feel the same way, trust me.” He promised, and he’d always remember how happy Marcel looked after he’d said that, how hopeful and Enthusiastic he was as he left to go find Scott shorty after nearly hugging Brock to death.

~~~~

And could always feel safe around,

~~~~

Yawning, Brock stretched his arms above his head and looked around; realizing he’d fallen asleep on the couch.

As he move to get up, a weight on his legs made him pause, looking down he couldn’t help but chuckle, for Evan lay curled up, as big of a male as he was, with his head resting on his right thigh, fast asleep.

Deciding that waking him up wouldn’t be a good idea, for the leader of the group had enough problems as it was with planning and keeping tabs on everything that happened in the city, he decided to return to his original position and go back to sleep, all while gently carding his fingers through the Asians' hair.

~~~~

But he knew that would never happen and the thought saddened Brock;

and pretty soon he was falling into a deep depression.

He tried to act normal, like nothing was wrong so no one would notice, but he wasn’t the type of person to hide how he felt. He was like an open book, every mood he felt was easily read.

Some days were better than other.

Some days he could go out and see families together and not feel like he was drowning in an ocean of sadness; but others, like today, all he wanted to do was hide away and never think about the life he would never have,

Or the parent he could never be.

Brock knew a break down was coming, he’d been there to witness all the guys’ and knew the signs. So, when he felt his throat tighten up and his eyes dampen, he went back to Brian and his room and hid inside their closet; wanting to be somewhere dark and quiet, and he cried.

He let it all out in that moment, alone in the dark of his shared closet, he let it all out. His eyes burned as tears ran down his cheeks and his chest felt like it was being crushed with how hard it was to breathe. He was so lost in his head that he didn’t hear his name being called, or the closet door being ripped opened.

He didn’t hear Brian shouting for him to breathe, to calm down and talk to him. He didn’t hear the pounding feet of the others, or their worried voices. He couldn’t hear any of it, he only heard the screaming in his head, or was he actually screaming? He didn’t know, but soon enough he was covered in darkness,

And then silence.

Blissful silence.

He felt like he was floating, like he was drifting weightlessly through space. There was no light and the only sound was just a soft hum, barely even there. His body felt heavy, like he had been sleeping for a long time and had just woken up. Everything came back all at once and Brock opened his eyes,

Brock winced and shut his eyes quickly as light flooded into them, blinding him momentarily. Giving them a few moments to adjust, Brock took in his surroundings. He was on a bed, his bed, and that meant he was in his room. Listening, he tried to see if he was alone, he wasn’t. Voices he recognized, belonging to Brian and Evan, talked quietly somewhere to the right of his bed.

“ What do you think caused it?” That was Evan, Brock could recognize that voice anywhere; it was the same with everyone else too.

He knew each of their voices by heart. He even knew who left what messes in the kitchen and training room, based on what food and what equipment was left out. He even knew who left the tv on by accident depending on what channel was playing.

“ I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s been bothering him for a while now. I was just hoping he would have come to me and talked about it sooner, before it got this bad.” And that was Brian, his voice, so calming to Brock, always making him feel so safe and protected; now made him feel guilty and sad. He hadn’t meant to make him worry.

Deciding to make his presence known, Brock opened his eyes and sat up, eyes widening as he realized that there were more people in his room than he originally thought.

Smitty and john lay, fast asleep, on the floor beside the bed wrapped up in each other’s arms on a makeshift mattress. Beside them was Marcel and Scott, with Scott being the big spoon and Marcel the little one. On the other side of the room, spread out on the couch, was Tyler and Craig. Craig fast asleep on top of Tyler’s chest. On the opposite side of the bed, saem as Smitty and John, was Nogla and Lui; with Nogla’s head buried in Lui’s chest.

Staring a little wide eyed, Brock froze. He hadn’t expected to wake up to them all being so close, and for how long he didn’t know, it was just a bit surprising.

“ None of them have moved all night. They were too worried about you, we all were.” Jonathan said, his voice startling Brock out of his mind. He hadn’t even noticed the man standing beside the bed and if he hadn’t of spoken up, Brock doubted he would have even known he was there unless he turned to look behind him.

“ Why?” The question was slipping out before Brock had a chance to stop it, startling those who were awake. Evan looked baffled, like he had just heard something he couldn’t believe, Jon just looked surprised, and Brian;

Brian looked hurt, as if the question had physically harmed him in some way. He stared at Brock with that kicked puppy look, but it didn’t last for long because it was followed by a look of complete and utter rage, and it was all aimed at him.

“ Why? WHY?! Are you seriously asking that question?! “ Brian’s voice grew in volume, waking everyone in the room, “ Do you have any idea what you put us through, what you put me through, these past few hours? How worried we all were, because we had no idea what was going on? Because you won’t talk to us about whatever it is that’s hap-” Brock cut him off,

“ Shut up! Shut up! Just shut up!” He cried, grasping at his head, “ You don’t know anything! You don’t understand-”

“ Then help me understand!” Brock was dragging back against Brian’s chest, “ Help us understand, let us help you for once.”

And Brock told them everything.

The words came tumbling from his mouth before he had a chance to think them through and by the time he was done, he was sobbing. He felt stupid, being so upset and causing so much commotion over something like this.

“ I’m sorry.” Brock finished, rubbing furiously at his eyes. No one had said anything the whole time and it was starting to worry Brock. His face burned with embarrassment and he felt his eyes watering again. He knew they wouldn’t understand, he knew it was a stupid idea, a stupid wish, he knew-

Fingers grasped his chin and tilted his head head, forcing his to come face to face to Brian.

“ Hey, baby breathe. It’s okay.” Brian reassured, gently wiping the tears off Brock’s cheeks. “ It’s okay, no one’s upset. I promise.” Brock nodded and it felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

“ But, You’re wrong.”

Brock looked up, surprised.

“ What?”

Brian’s face broke out into a large grin.

“ You’re wrong.” He repeated, “ You’ve had a family this whole time. Haven’t you noticed?” Brock hadn’t noticed, but he didn’t have to voice this, for the others were already speaking.

“ Yeah! We’ve always been your family Brock.” Smitty stated with wide mitch-matched eyes. The others voiced their agreements.

“ Yeah, and if we’re talking about family placement, you’re definitely the mom, Brock.” Tyler stated, causing the other to laugh and make similar comments.

“ Yeah! But if he’s the mom, does that make Brian the dad?” Lui giggled making Brian’s cheeks flush red.

“ W-Well, if I’m the dad then that means you gotta listen to what I say from now on!” Brian stated, making Lui puff up, ready to defend himself. Though Nogla was quick to interrupt.

“ If their the parents, then what’s Evan? He’s the leader here!” Brock smiled, looking over at the canadian man, who looked slightly surprised.

“ Evan’s the big brother!” Marcel shouted, throwing an arm over said man’s shoulders, who chuckled softly, “ And Smitty’s the little brother!”

“ Hey! I’m more mature than you! You fuckin-”

“ Thank you.” All eyes fell onto Brock, who had more tears sliding down his cheeks. “ I-I’m so so sorry. I’ve been so blind.” He whispered, voice shaky as he fidgeted with the edge of the blanket.

The faces in the room softened and they all moved a little bit closer.

“ You aren’t stupid Brock. You were just sad.” Brian says softly, “ And the next time you’re sad, just come to one of us, because we’re your family and we care about you just as much as you care about us; so that means we’ll always be here for you.” Brock nods, whipping at his eyes.

“ Yeah, you’re right,” He paused, before grinning up at them all, “ Though, I am pretty hungry-” He barely had time to finish his sentence before all of them were racing from the room, leaving him by himself.

Grinning, Brock listened to them all bound down the stairs, yelling profanities and other things at each other as they raced to the kitchen.

Thinking back on it, Brock couldn’t believe he had been so stupid and blind to not see the amazing family that had been in front of him the entire time. He never even realized how much the others meant to him until he was already being told that he was their mother figure, which didn't offend him like he thought it would.

It, actually made him feel good, like he was special to someone. He was happy to be the mother figure and if anyone wanted to use that as an insult, he would just grin and say he was proud to call all these wonderful boys his sons and that he loved them with everything he had.

#moo snuckel #h20 delirious #Vanoss #smii7y #kryozgaming #BasicallyIDowrk #fourzer0seven #daithi de nogla #MiniLadd #IAMWILDCAT #lui calibre #Terroriser

117 notes · View notes