#to be fair we were both on so much meth

[bibleofficial]

just spent 4hrs w this dealer that i was only supposed to pick up from for like 2 sec 😭😭😭

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for cooking meth with my former chemistry student, killing two people, and lying to my family about it?

I (50M) was recently diagnosed with inoperable, likely fatal lung cancer. I work at a highschool as a chemistry teacher, but both the pay and the students are terrible. Case in point, my "lab partner" (24M) - who we'll call "Cap'n" because of course he'd insist on a stupid nickname like that - not only completely flunked my class, but then went on to skip college entirely and become a meth-addicted drug dealer instead.

Understandably, I was a little shaken after receiving my diagnosis. It came as a surprise since I've never smoked, I keep myself in relatively fair health, etc. (Recently my wife has taken to vegan bacon- apparently it helps lower cholesterol, but I digress.) I haven't told my family about the situation yet; I'm still trying to figure out how to "let the cat out of the bag", not to mention I doubt my wife will take it very well.

As for deciding to try cooking methamphetamine, well. I'm not really sure how to explain it, exactly, but there's a lot of money in it, money that would benefit my family, and I don't have much to lose anymore. This may sound cliche, but it's as though I'm really awake for the first time in my life.

Cap'n and I formed a partnership by circumstance only; I found out he was in "the business" and offered to either turn him into the DEA or work with me, and he naturally took the second option. He had no idea what he was doing on the chemistry side of things - chili powder in the meth! applying heat to an Erlenmeyer flask! no wonder I flunked him, he clearly learned nothing in my class - but does know the trade.

(Note: Don't buy all of your supplies from the same store.)

Sorry, I'm getting too far into the weeds here, let me skip ahead. We purchased a trailer and drove out to somewhere in the middle of the desert to cook without added attention or need for dramatic cleanup if we had to leave the area in a hurry. Our first batch was, according to Cap'n, "pure glass." After all of that complaining, I had cooked the finest product he'd ever seen on the first try! Goes to show paying attention in school does pay off, ahem. In case any of you were reading this and thinking of skipping off to go and make highly illegal substances and risk years in prison instead of doing your homework. You all still have your entire lives ahead of you. I don't.

After making it, the next logical course of action was to sell. Cap'n said he had some connections - I mean, he is a drug dealer, I saw no reason not to trust him (I now see how little sense that makes.) - and came back with two men with guns pointed at both of us. You must understand, it was a kill or be killed situation. These are the kind of people who don't care about morals, or what's right or ethical or kind. If they'd lived... not just me, but my wife, my son, and my entire family would all be in serious, mortal danger. I had no choice.

Cap'n by this point had been knocked out cold- still alive, but entirely unhelpful with the situation at hand. I was on my own. So I offered to show the goons how I made the "glass", surely they wanted to see how it was done? And they did- I still can't believe that actually worked. But, ah, instead of actually cooking anything, I gave them... let's call it a chemistry lesson. When significant heat is applied to red phosphorus - a key ingredient in Cap'n and I's "extracurricular science project" - it oxidizes. Your result is phosgene gas, highly deadly, hence the "killing two people." One... technically isn't dead yet- somehow he managed to survive, I still don't fully understand how, but I'm... I'm working on it. Cap'n still has yet to get rid of the first body, so... technically I'm not failing to withhold my share of the cleanup, since he hasn't done so with his.

I realize now this is very long, but I wanted to explain the context for my actions. However, a tl;dr for those who might be in a hurry: I was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, so with nothing else to lose decided to try to make some money for my family by cooking and selling methamphetamine. Coincidentally, a former student of mine was also in the business, and I convinced him to work with me. When we tried to put our product on the market, two people tried to kill us, so I acted in self-defense.

But I really, really must know... is what I did wrong? Should I have been content to live the rest of however-long-I-have-left working a miserable job as a public high school chemistry teacher instead? Should I have found a less fatal way of dealing with the two men who tried to kill me and my partner? AITA?

P.S. It's pretty late as I'm typing this so I might've made some errors in coherency or grammar, for which I apologize.

[thebasedsaint7]

My experience, strength, & hope

Growing up was fairly normal for me, I don’t have that tragic childhood that ignited my addiction at an early age or anything like that. I honestly think I was born this way, but the drugs didn’t come into play until my late teens. It started with food, and then boys, and so on and so forth.  

My family had its share of troubles, but we also had a ton of fun together. I grew up camping & going on little vacations during the summer. I had friends over all the time & had sleep overs at their houses. I was voted class clown for our senior personalities. I can say I have many memories that I cherish, and some that haunt me. It’s a good mix of both. But I think that pretty much applies to everyone.  

As a kid, I did have my fair share of stressors. I was bullied consistently from the time I started kindergarten until high school. I was also molested as a child by a neighbor kid who was older than my brother & I. The bullying started to slow down when I lost a bunch of weight by my junior year, I had become addicted to working out. I joined the track & cross country team even though I was slower than a turtle. I just liked the way running made me feel afterward.  

The first drug I ever came to enjoy was valium. There was a lot of fighting & things going on at home during high school, and there was one night things got physical. After that I started having a lot of trouble sleeping and having more anxiety than usual. So around 15 years old I was introduced to valium by a family member. At 16 I smoked weed for the first time but wasn’t getting high regularly until I was about 17. By 17 I was stealing the valium from said family member & getting drunk every weekend with a group of guy friends, and I would usually bring a girl friend along with me.  

I started blacking out and getting ridiculously drunk every time I drank, so they slowly stopped hanging out with me because I couldn’t handle my alcohol. The summer after senior year my parents separated for about 6 months, and I didn’t hang out with many people that summer. I just worked. Our school lost one of our classmates to a car accident my senior year, and this caused a good friend of mine to distance herself from me for awhile, as she couldn’t help me with my problems and deal with her grief at the same time.  

That fall she messaged me and wanted to start hanging out again. We’re going to call her A. We started hanging out all the time, at least 2-3 times a week. She reintroduced me to benzos, and I fell in love with xanax. I started seeking it from doctors, and managed to get a small script for .25’s from my family doctor. After he left his practice, I was referred to a psychiatrist. There I managed to get a prescription for .5mg klonopin, 2x daily. Needless to say they were abused, and I continued to look for more pills on the street. Other drugs started coming into the picture along with more alcohol. LSD, mdma, eventually painkillers, cocaine, and eventually meth later down the road.  

At one point, A and I were hanging out almost every day. We developed a codependent friendship.  We needed each other to boost each others’ egos, to trade and get drugs from, and to cosign each others’ bullshit. Whatever connection we had at one point was replaced by our love for drugs & partying.  

21-22 began the height of my addiction. I was drinking almost every night, and committing unspeakable acts while under the influence. Every one of my friends started to notice and slowly slip away, and they continued to get replaced by even worse friends. I was slipping into a dark place and to be honest, I enjoyed it at the time. It’s like I wanted to see how far I could go, how far I could push it until the inevitable happened. Death. I used to always say I would die by the time I was 27, my future looked bleak.  

Around the age of 22 I met somebody that we’ll refer to as C. We hit it off as friends and he quickly became my dealer. After a couple months, I felt like I kind of loved the guy, and he knew it. He started saying how he wanted to get clean, and went cold turkey off of xanax. He never actually totally quit. But, it inspired me to wanna get clean too. I believe he knew this as well, and that it was his goal. He knew how bad I was getting. So I started weaning myself off of klonopin, and stopped buying xanax on the street. I didn’t realize you were supposed to taper off slowly, that it can take over a year and some replacement medication to safely get off of benzos. I didn’t tell my doctor what I was doing because I wanted to still get the prescription so I could sell it. And then the horror began..  

After maybe two months of weaning myself off a 5(?) year bender, I went into withdrawal. I didn’t sleep for almost two weeks, and my body started shutting down. I had hallucinations, irritability, restlessness, depressive episodes, decreased appetite, you name it. The one day it was so bad & my mom didn’t know what to do, so she called for an ambulance. Not only was an ambulance sent, but a couple of police came too. One of them I knew from highschool. Something about seeing a familiar face and his calm demeanor talked some sense into me and I agreed to go to the hospital. I can forever thank him for coming that day, although it’s a bit embarassing. But I'm sure that wasn’t the only time he’s seen something like that.  I just never saw that scenario coming.  

That was my first detox. I relapsed time after time again. I wanted to get clean but I was always doing it for the wrong reasons. I wanted a different job, I wanted this guy to like me, basically any reason except for actually doing it for myself. It wasn’t until 2022 that I realized I was very lucky to have made it past 27, and I was going on 30. I knew if I carried my old habits into my 30s I was going to seriously hate myself for it. So in april of 2022 I made the decision to put the dope down once again.  

This only lasted maybe a little over a month. My jeep broke down, and I got insanely bored being at home with nothing to do. So I started smoking weed again. That was the only thing I did for awhile, and then the boredom continued. At the end of 2021 and beginning of 2022 I had been on a cocaine binge, and I was starting to miss it. So I ended up reconnecting with my old friend J. I asked her if she had any one night in august, and she said no but she had something a little stronger. All I could think was, oh boy. Here we go..

I tried meth one time when I was about 26, didn’t really care for it. But something about it the second time around really did something for me. It reminded me of adderall x20. Needless to say I couldn’t sleep that night, and I had stuff to do the next day. So I came back to her house the next morning to get some more. Eventually I found myself needing some kind of speed all the time. If I didn’t have meth, I had adderall. If I didn’t have adderall or meth, I had cocaine. Then I needed something to kind of level me out, so you’ll never guess what I got into next. Yep, you guessed it, xanax. It was a horrible combination and sent my mental health down the gutter. What happened next sent it even further down the drain.  

One night my friend B invited me over to drink with her and her new boyfriend and his brother. Everything was cool at first, and then when me & JJ (the brother) were alone outside for a minute, he decides to go in for a kiss. Worst kisser in the world first of all. And second of all I told him I was talking to somebody at the time and didn’t wanna go any further. He did not care. Especially after I made the mistake of selling him a xanax bar.  

I knew I was too drunk to leave, and if I stayed he was gonna wanna sleep with me. I felt backed into a corner. So he talked me into staying, and said we didn’t have to do anything. But, naturally, when we went back to his room, he ripped my clothes off and I kept telling him no and that I wanted to stop. At one point when he was on top of me I tried to push him off by his shoulders and he locked himself in place. I felt disgusting. I impatiently waited for it to be light enough outside & for me to be sober enough to drive home, and when I did I realized my clothes had been soaked by his beer. So I wore his clothes that didn’t even fit me home, and immediately hopped in the shower to wash off last nights filth, completely forgetting that rape kits existed. I wasn’t going to say anything about it at first but then I decided you know what, fuck it. But none of my friends cared or believed me. I tried to file a police report but not much came of it seeing as though I couldn’t go get a rape kit done.  

So JJ’s now mad at me for opening my mouth about that, and then J decides she’s gonna try to rip me off on this pair of boots that she got for free. They were worth 25$ and she was trying to charge me 40 at first and then 50. I was already upset and not in a good state of mind from the drugs so I got pissed at her. I put a bunch of random chemicals in the boots and threw them in her ex’s driveway where she was moving out of at the time while it was raining.  

Then come to find out B was talking shit about me at the party we had at K’s house the weekend before. She was telling everybody that I was doing meth, none of anyones business. I started losing it at this point. I lost my job, I was raped, there was drama, I got sick right before we were leaving for florida for the week of thanksgiving. I had been talking about the trip for weeks, so my friends knew when we were going to be gone.  

So the day after thanksgiving, we get a phone call from my sister saying our house had been ransacked. A ton of my parents’ property was missing and my jeep was gone from the garage. This was when I officially hit rock bottom. I knew something needed to change, and my mom suggested I look into rehab.

A few days later we got a call saying my jeep was found behind walmart, but the catalytic converter was missing. So considering we couldn’t afford to get it fixed and make the payments while I was in rehab, we had to let it get repoed. The cherry on top of it all.  

My parents didn’t have cameras or a security system at the time (you can bet they do now), so it was basically our word against theirs. However, there was an empty bottle of budweiser left in my jeep on the driver side door that wasn’t mine. They sent it to the lab for dna, and it came back with J’s dna on it. I could have told you she was involved. They’re still working on gathering enough evidence to indict her on the charge though. Since then she’s caught another burglary and breaking and entering charge, on top of multiple felonies and misdemeanors, and I honestly hope the judge throws the book at her.  A bunch of petty drama does not justify breaking into my childhood home and robbing my parents and I blind. But in hindsight, this was the beginning of my journey for me. The start of an awakening.  

I prayed for years for God to take my addiction from me, but I never really put in the effort. I was ready to make the change this time. So I found a rehab about an hour away from home, and stayed for 2 ½ months. After I was discharged I lived with my sponsor for a few days, and then got a call that there was a room available at a sober living facility nearby, still about an hour away from home. I was ecstatic. I have been getting all the help I need, from counseling and group therapy to figuring out a job and budget, and getting help with getting some things on my record expunged/reduced. I couldn’t be more thankful for the staff at the rehab I stayed at and where I am now, and for all the friends I've made along the way.  

I’ve changed and grown so much in such a short period of time, it’s amazing. All I had to do was take those steps, and then the blessings just kept falling in my lap. I am so grateful for everyday that I wake up and for each new opportunity that arises, so grateful my parents have been so supportive along with most of my extended family. There are those that have lost faith in me and honestly it does hurt, but I don’t respond to the hurt the way I used to. I didn’t realize how much the drugs had stunted my emotional maturity. Looking at the difference of who I was 4 months ago to now is enough to keep me going, because it’s only going to keep getting better.  

God is replacing all the things that the enemy stole from me. It brings me to tears.  

There was one morning, about a year or so ago when I was praying to get better & not knowing where I stood with God because of my addiction, when I was waking up, still half asleep, and I heard a soft voice coming from within me. I heard something in my conscience say, “you are mine, your name is Testimony. You are MINE, your name is Testimony. YOU ARE MINE, your name is TESTIMONY.” I woke up and stared blankly out at the sun beaming in through my window. Perplexed. Exactly 7 days later, my uncle who baptized me when I was 9 sent me a bracelet with a Bible verse on it from the book of Isaiah, saying “i have called you by name, you are mine.” and that’s when I knew that what I heard that morning wasn’t just me, I wasn’t crazy.  

It’s all coming to fruition, His promises and words spoken to me. It’s unbelievable. And all I had to do was start doing the next right thing. I had the key to my cure this entire time, I just had to unlock the door.  

[anthonybialy]

Negotiating Terms

Joe Biden remains the lieutenant.  Ask him to spell it for amusement during these inflationary times.  Crime’s up unlike the value of money, which seems backward.  Blame his younger mentor for guiding him on implementing awful lunacy that causes enough damage to make the conspiratorial wonder if it’s intentional.

Part-time president Barack Obama remains a full-time aggravation.  He isn’t just physically guiding his marionette.  The very fair media would like you to believe the incumbent is capable of standing on his own just like he is proficient at reasoning.  But his last supervisor helps him with both.

Obama’s fourth term would be an ode to FDR.  A soft reboot is a hard prospect.  Running your life as a complimentary courtesy offered by the most compassionate of parties.  Democrats claiming they have new ideas hope you’re not into history any more than you are researching what happens when the Treasury prints too much cash.

Sticking with Biden even as the tumbleweeds take over in his skill is part of Obama’s sincere commitment to maintaining power. That’s just the start of selflessness for a former/quasi-current president who tirelessly wants to keep making your life difficult.

Feeling hassled is surely in your best interest.  Why would one particular style of politician confiscate your autonomy otherwise?  The thought being bossed around for 16 dreadful years by the worst possible bosses should make anyone quit.  The best case against government is made by its lustiest endorsers.  There’s a reason those who can only profit off holding office want to remove your right to dissent.

It’s so progressive to allow a man of color to really be in charge.  The scheme could use a more convincing frontman.  Biden was a nastily confused dolt before the Bicentennial.  He thought America needed fixing then, too.  Obama is as bad at choosing puppets as he is at policies.

When rules aren’t to your liking, circumvent them.  It’s almost clever.  There have been far too many terms dedicated to incinerating the shredded Constitution.  This White House is only efficient at installing a most inefficient regime.

The Obama Party violates America’s rulebook, but at least they ruin the country.  Lamenting harm is not just a conceptual matter, although their ideas could’ve been implemented by a flying saucer piloted by aliens who aren’t equipped with morality.  Every liberal scheme is based in thinking they can spend better than those who earned it.  The first example of it actually happening will be so refreshing.

The last Democrat only seems relaxed.  Each infuriatingly inane post balancing lame false equivalence with calls for hideous overreach that were discredited by experience throughout last century spurs a twitchy flashback.  The Berlin Wall fell in order for fans of the state to yearn for the East.

Everything headed downhill when people chose Facebook over MySpace.  That could be coincidental, unlike how trying times followed investing faith in the most obvious phony humankind has ever produced.

Professional dupes who remain unwilling to admit to getting suckered insist on still pretending that everything would be swell if we only allowed the mellifluous speaker to unite us.  Trusting conmen is now the semipermanent political trend.  Thinking that style makes the difference is typical amongst vying cults.  Members of the one into angry catharsis loathe those who prefer brain-dead cynicism risibly presented as hope.

The downside of Obama’s legacy is doing awful things as a byproduct of being a dreadful moron.  Seducing dupes into signing over everything is shameless but won’t end until victims tire of getting ripped off.  Unlike timeshare salesmen, you can’t leave once you got your golf clubs.

Try meth for a healthier alternative to getting hooked on entitlements.  Spending untold trillions for worse outcomes is working superbly otherwise.  Fretting there’s not enough funding is a common excuse for inevitable failure just like never asking who provides it.

There might be fewer addicts if the dealer didn’t get his way.  Getting high on their own product is the worst mistake.  Democrats in office possess precisely zero chance of them ever turning to productive careers.  Who’d hire them?  Influence is the most useless product to sell yet remains in vogue thanks to the very market crashers who peddle it.

A previous president hovering over the present one only sounds like a lunatic conspiracy.  It’s like arming Mexican drug lords in order to pimp a gun control agenda or letting terrorists murder an ambassador because sending help for him would’ve served as an admission that their policy failed.

Biden was, is, and always will be Obama’s bitch.  As for a fictional drug dealer who pretended to be a good community citizen, Gus Fring was way more interesting.

Exploiting misery is their brand.  Democrats need as much inventory as possible.  Dedicated parasites not about to manufacture anything people want, so they’ll focus on a financial meltdown caused by federal meddling that they of course blame on corporate greed.  CEOs discovered inflation just after Biden got his way.  Businesses are obviously deliberately making people poor so nobody can’t buy anything just like Biden’s lackeys claim.

Like sucks like Obama’s still president because he sort-of is.  Cheap dates aren’t getting seduced as easily.  Biden is uncharismatic version of the same toxic ideology that he believed as Obama’s Igor.  Now, he’s as animated as the monster.  That’s enough of the remakes.

[raincloudsfollowme143]

I remember when I dropped out of school my old classmates had spread rumors that I was on meth and I remember I kinda had a crush on this dude and i texted him like hey how are you and he replied “don’t you literally do meth” and that made me so sad and i remember I went to the fair and I said hi to a few of my old classmates and all of them talked to me super slow like I was mentally handicapped and it like crushed my spirit so much sometimes because they made me feel like a lowlife like a nobody like I’ll never get a chance at life all because I dropped out like I was literally so depressed man I shaved my head I was always self harming I stopped taking my medicine for my Graves’ disease. But now that I look back I’m so proud of myself and I’m so happy with the things I achieved and the things I pushed myself to do like all I did was fish me and my dog were always fishing I taught myself to fly fish on my grandpas old rod even, I would hunt with my dad all the time, I was camping every other week, me and my dog would hike every other day me and Em would go hot-sprining every time it rained. I got my GED and graduated a year ahead of my highschool class and I was the fastest graduating student in my GED classes. I went to cosmetology school at 17 I was the youngest student there. I got a job working on set for Yellowstone. I moved across the country on my own and now I rescue cats off the streets here and rehabilitate them. I don’t smoke weed I don’t even vape anymore lmao I haven’t got about a year. And for my future I have so many goals set, me and Sam want to travel across Canada I want to go to Squamish and see the walls Marc Andre soloed and after that we want to go to Nepal and I would like to see K2 in person (preferably from base camp) which is a 3 week hike. I’d either like to take EMT basics or take some Culinary classes or maybe both. Anyway moral of the story is that sometimes when you feel fucked your only about 45% fucked and you will look back and be able to find something good in all the bad or maybe you’ll see there wasn’t any bad all along just a perception of bad.

[libidomechanica]

That hole where dead

Where thereat she dight feminine disease, as well.     Remember? That night way of day the superlative mud on the lowly groom that, from     answer&theyr eccho ring. But how sweet

a fact I loathed? Like a lasting has been fair and     to be a decent space, lyke as whott at his hole your wanton and darke but a ray. Now     will show these bands of the hazel eye,

bring forth her body is, poure his fire! Who shoes, and     of wrangle; and cracking up Pall Mall, an English as I gain an effort to hell, my     loue should be quite conservative in

sporten into a shadow steal for woman who     first spoke his furious eyes each beloved of my life shrunk in again, the subjects     worth did folly in my Muse, now shew

the excursive, break from variation, he line     of your face, and I see thee, myself, with this; who want to ride. Glow with might so long we     were fourth at once how the more strictly

both having few words the summe summer or Winter     came to Mortal paragon, an old midwife, she weathers are fairer than mine. To my     ain lassie, fair though his fame, or once

a kiddy upon a milk and young and scarcely     known a crib. And the vale you seem, but she is for the rash deed. Teaching like a flow in     the Green; but wasted in a nook, or

stand recorded did imputed grave touch’d the sweet     flower with blot of Treasons my way there was the friend, will not back-chat. In the woods no     matter, as also presented, and

I must, althought our days of seven change grows long     small poets canst not fairer than comparison to sneer at a diuels in a five pound     not tell not much the big white, her cheek.

On horse her proper place, hauing aloud, so is my     proue, some disguise of late though probably my fair; the them i want to set a glimpse of their     tumble, and having thoroughly

incontinent a songstress; and as a dog, as     usual parts of nature’s riches exposed not in scorn could I? Insists, in promises     much: but not fulfillment which so barred

wind, which now vnthough stream of passing. They not blossom     fortune swells upon his woode, except the vacant leaves. And all are topic which maids have     some slight with my while withstand ye this

tall and gone, not till glory round off by one not     water, some heiress or the bonds broken, but ioyed in lit like a poet’s maturity,     checks Summer’s able beyond the

time, and cold is only live poet’s verse, when pity     would give up artlessly both sides mething steps and darke but types of the base in those     fool with exasperately grew

my tomb. Bolts in either spirit by?—This is, a     dashing and cancelled cave, turquoise and deeds; lilies. Those icy change in one day I was     blue in the ground run this will we find

but well: this that madmen may vs with fainted     of life in the Amorous World! These our eccho ring. I bade me withall. Her foot shall     not soil and their ray was told Rose-Armed

Dawn, love’s Banquet lost that, out of books. Tho’ poor heart     not move, and thou were than complain. Have others inquired. With the green whirls in the moon,     that you seem, but by and foolish fashion,—

say what merit live my humblest brides. Earthly     things are so strong Arm—and opened and vouchsafe the grass-green my bones lie down on the     hae I been hatching eyes my heart is

mellow, good ship entangle about thy Impressions     which round himself in the green. All, yea, this moment on him; wedded strike him caught     ’ A spoon; o merry hae I been rent.

[ophelia-jones]

Swan song

Chapter 7 - a sky full of Stars 

After the conversation with Maggie, Etta needed some air. She needed some space. She needed some time to think. But she couldn't just leave, so she did the next best thing.

"Etta?" she could hear Daryl looking for her in the yard, and she looked down at him from the rooftop. 

"Up top!" she called and waved when he looked straight up at her in disbelief. 

"What the hell… How'd you even get up there?" he called, squinting up into the twilight.

"Climbed out the window, then up onto the roof here. Come on up," she called, then retreated to her place beside the cupola.  

A few moments later she could hear as he climbed out a window, onto the overhang above the porch and began assessing the best way to get up onto the roof from there.

"Something wrong with you…" he was mumbling. Etta smiled to herself and listened as he hoisted himself up onto the window frame and finally joined her on the rooftop.

"What the hell are you doing up here?" he asked, standing directly over where she lay with her hands behind her head and her feet crossed at the ankles. 

"I needed a little peace and quiet. Plus, you can't beat the view," she said, gesturing up into the evening sky as the sunset faded and it turned from blue to lavender on its journey to nighttime. He gazed up, open-mouthed as if confused as to what exactly he was supposed to be seeing.

"Don't you ever take the time to look at the sky?" she asked, leaning up on her elbows and craning her neck to look up at him.

"I don't know, I guess. To see if it's gonna rain," he replied with a shrug.

Etta patted the blanket she had brought out to lie on. Daryl seemed to find the idea a little silly but only paused a moment before sitting next to her, his knees drawn up to his chest, his forearms resting on his knees.

"When I was little, seven, I think; the state took me away from my mom and I went to live with my gramps. Her father. He had been married to another woman when grandma got preggo with mom so he wasn't in her life much. He did try, but that's a whole other story." Etta told him as they both looked up at the sky fading to steel blue.  The moon was whole and bright and the stars were starting to appear.

"He felt bad about it, I guess, and when CPS found him he agreed to take me in. He had a nice house on Lake Superior. We would sit on the beach - it wasn't like a big sandy warm beach, it was just a rocky strip surrounded by pine trees - but it was Heaven to me."

"My favorite was when we'd go out at night, we'd have to bundle up because even in July the chill from the lake made it cold at night. Plus the mosquitos were always thick there. Gramps would point out the constellations. He was a mariner for 35 years on a great lakes freighter. A captain for 5 of those. I swear he has been a sailor in all his past lives, the way he loved the water and the stars." she couldn't help but smile at his memory.

"Sounds like a good guy," Daryl said, shooting Etta a glance from the corner of his eye. "So what went wrong?"

"Why do you assume something went wrong?" Etta asked quietly, laying flat on her back and looking up at him. Daryl grunted slightly and shrugged his shoulders.

"Cause it always does, for people like us," he replied, looking at his hands and picking at a scab. Etta smiled softly, it was a bittersweet smile. Bitter because he wasn't wrong, but sweet because he considered her to be like himself. Us.

"Hunting accident," she told him. "He fell out of a tree stand and never came home. I was going on 11. My mom convinced the court that she had cleaned up her act and wanted me back. Within six months she and her boyfriend were cooking meth."

"Then when I was 13 she started getting jealous, thought I was trying to steal her boyfriend.  To be fair to her, he was all over me, but I sure as hell wasn't inviting it. What 13-year-old girl looks at a 40-year-old meth head and thinks, now that's the guy I want to pop my cherry!" she paused for a long moment to collect her thoughts.

"By the time I was 14, I was couch surfing or sleeping rough behind the school or in the park. Cops would catch me and take me back to mom's, I'd last a week, tops." 

"She gives you those scars?" Daryl asked, glancing at her but nervous to look at her directly. He didn't like anyone prying in his past, but she seemed to be ok sharing.

"Some of them, yeah. These," she said, rubbing the burn marks on her shoulder and neck. Others I did myself being an idiot. This one on my arm I got running from the cops, climbing over a chain link fence." She smiled and added, "Fatass didn't stand a chance. Somehow he was too blind to track me down even though I was bleeding like a stuck pig."

Daryl snorted in shared derision at the cop's ineptitude.

"You're a real badass, huh?" he said, letting his eyes linger a little more now.

"Just a survivor. Like you." she smiled at him reaching up from where she lay to rub his back gently through his shirt. 

"I had a brother, at least, growing up. Merle." Daryl told her, lighting up a cigarette. "He was an ass hole, but we had each other's backs. Least that was how I saw it back then. After the fire, after my mom… Well, we might as well have lost both of my parents. It was always the two of us against everybody."

"Gone now, huh?"

"Yeah. Just another person I failed," he mumbled, eyes looking at his booted feet.

"That is some serious bullshit," Etta said, sitting up to be by his side. "You know whose safety you're responsible for? You, sir, are responsible for taking care of Daryl Dixon. That's it. I know you want to save people, Daryl… and that's so admirable, you should want to help. But they made the decisions that led them to where they were when they died. You can't control what Glenn or Merle did to end up dead. You are sure as shit didn't have any say in Negan's decision to kill anyone. You can't hold yourself responsible for all of the shit that happens." 

Daryl remained silent, head down and his arms resting on his knee.

"I haven't had an abundance of people in my life who I loved and who loved me back, and I have lost most of them.  I spent a lot of time thinking, if I had found my gramps sooner or if I had just seen the shooter that killed Lana, it would have been so simple to save them.  But I had to put all that guilt and blame down, it was too much. Shit happens. It's done, no changing it. Hell, I don't even blame my mom anymore, because all that did was keep me carrying all that hurt around with me. I was making it worse." 

"It ain't that easy," he growled at her. 

"I never said it was easy." She rested her head on his strong shoulder and wrapped her arm around him.

"We are all going to die, sooner or later. When I go, I'm not going to have any regrets. I'd bet my last thought won't be I wish I had done this or not done that. It will be I wish I could see one more sky full of stars. Just like this one. This, right here, is what all the fighting for our survival is about. Moments like this. And no one, alive or dead, would begrudge you enjoying them."

"Y'know what?" Daryl said, wrapping his massive around her and looking down into her big brown eyes finally, "You talk too much," he told her with a soft smile. 

"Then why don't you shut me up, Daryl Dixon?" she grinned and angled her face up to his, her eyes begging for a kiss. 

"That's a good idea," he murmured, leaning down to meet her mouth with his own. There was nothing tentative about this kiss - he was all in, now. It was gentle, though, slow and very sensual. That tongue of his and how he employed it was beyond Etta's wildest imaginings. She melted like a chocolate bar on a dashboard. In Texas. In August. 

When his hands slid up under her shirt and started tugging at her bra, looking for the catch, Etta pulled back from his kiss and told him, breathlessly, 

"It's in the front!" amusement in her voice made Daryl frown at her and grumble,

"I'd've figured it out."

Etta smiled and undid the snap for him, closing her eyes and arching into his touch when he covered her breasts with both hands.

"I fucking love your hands," she sighed, the sensation of his weathered, calloused skin against the smooth softness made all of her senses buzz, especially when he ran them across her peaked nipples. She shuddered pleasantly.

"My hands fucking love your tits," Daryl breathed into her ear, catching the lobe between his teeth before moving to her throat. 

"You have a filthy mouth!" Etta said eyes closed, accepting his touch hungrily. "I love it." she smiled as she ran her hands through his hair. He giggled against her throat and Etta's heart - any shred of resistance to falling in love that had remained - was lost to her. She had never been in love, but this was exactly how she thought it must feel. Her heart was all his, she was all his.

When he tugged at the bottom of her shirt she drew back to look in his eyes, more than a little surprised.

"Out here? Are you sure?" she asked, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Why not?" he growled, leaning in to taste her skin again. "Who's going to see us up here?" 

"What if someone comes up to the cupola to check for someone approaching?" she asked, eyeing the small, lighthouse-like addition to the building. It was like the top of a lighthouse, with windows all around so one could survey the entire area surrounding the hilltop for threats.

"Then I guess they'll get more than one full moon tonight," he told her with a smirk. "I want to see you and those stars all at once." 

Etta felt like she might float away, she was filled with so many emotions - and hormones - she wanted to never leave this moment, to never stop touching this man.  She felt soft inside - suddenly she understood the phrases 'mushy' and 'swept away'. They weren't just words, but actual physical feelings. 

"C'mere," he said, his hand in her hair, pulling her firmly down toward him. He guided her to lay on the blanket beside him and made quick work of removing every stretch of clothing she wore, and when he was down to just his pants, Etta caught his hands in her own and shooed them away. She wanted to do this part. 

He lay on his back and lifted his hips for her as she pulled them off his hips and down his legs. Once she had tossed them aside, she knelt between his legs and lowered her head, her long black hair brushing his thighs.

The noise he made shot straight through her and lit a fire low in her belly.  She looked up at him, his head back and his eyes closed softly.

"I thought you wanted to look at the stars, Daryl?" she teased, knowing he could feel her breath on the tip of his cock because it jumped and swelled when she spoke. He growled in frustration and looked down at her. Etta touched the tip of her tongue to the tip of his hard-on and he groaned so desperately she feared someone might hear. Maybe they'd just assume it was an animal, she hoped. 

She slowly took the length of him in, sliding all the way to her tonsils and relaxing her throat as best she could. His hands grabbed handfuls of her hair and he began lifting his hips, his hands guiding her head in counter to the motion of his hips. He didn't last long, but that was probably for the best, with the noises he was making. 

His chest was heaving as she sat up and wiped her mouth, swallowing discretely behind her hand. 

"Oh, Jesus, c'mere, c'mere…" he said sitting up and gesturing with both hands for her to come closer so he could wrap himself around her. She was engulfed in his massive embrace. She kissed his muscular shoulder lightly and rested her head on it, and he kissed the top of her head. 

"I didn't hurt you, did I? Didn't pull your hair too hard?" he asked, still out of breath. Etta laughed softly and shook her head, but didn't lift it. She liked being held like this. She had her arms around him, below his armpits, her hands rested against the slightly sweaty bare skin of his back. 

"No, you didn't hurt me," she laughed at the thought that he'd been less concerned last night and that had been far more aggressive.  She lifted her head to look in his pretty blue eyes now. 

"You don't have to worry about hurting me, Daryl. I promise. I'll tell you once if something hurts and if you do it again I'll kick your ass for it." she smiled broadly and earned a genuine grin in return from him. 

"Same goes the other way, too. If I ask for more, I mean it," she whispered seductively, tracing his lower lip with one fingertip. 

"Yes, Ma'am," he breathed, rubbing his calloused hands along her naked back. He guided her to lay on the blanket with him, Etta on her back and Daryl on his side, resting on one elbow.

"Can I just touch you?" he asked, running his fingers along her skin adoringly, raising goosebumps everywhere. Etta sighed and arched into his touch, staring up at the moon and the stars as he explored every inch of her, head to torso, then down to her calves and up along her thighs. Her heart was racing by the time he slipped his fingers inside of her, first one, then another. He rested his head on his outstretched arm now and let his forehead rest against hers. Their noses touched, and she could feel his eyelashes against her own. 

He touched her so slowly, with long, deep strokes that soon had her lifting her hips to meet the motion of his hand.

"More," she breathed against his lips, and his touch became firmer, his fingers pressed deeper.  "More," she soon said again, her voice growing urgent. Again he obliged, sliding three rough fingers inside of her slippery, swollen cunt. Harder strokes, until she had her legs splayed wide and her hips and ass lifted off the blanket to receive each thrust. 

When Daryl removed his hand she groaned in disappointment. But he reached up and took one of her hands in his and rested it right above her clit.

"Show me," he said. "Show me where, show me how.'' The rush of liquid heat that flooded her at his words alone was nearly enough. She licked her lips and nodded her head and dipped her fingers between the folds around the sensitive nub. Gently at first, and then when she opened her eyes and saw him watching her hand with such lust, such passion in his eyes, she was rubbing harder, pulling upward, her legs opening more as she grew closer to her climax. When Daryl slid two fingers back into her as deep as they would go it was like pulling the trigger on a gun.

"Oh, God, Daryl… I'm coming! I'm coming," she whimpered.

"I can feel it," he whispered in her ear, feeling the way she closed her legs around his hand and the rolling waves of spasming muscle in her hot wet cunt. He was breathing nearly as hard as Etta. Her legs twitched and shook as she came down from that peak. 

"Oh my God," she breathed, rolling over so Daryl would spoon against her for a while. He wrapped one massive arm around her and pressed the length off his body up against her own. 

"Well, you definitely made me see stars," she giggled, she could feel Daryl's chest shake slightly as he laughed at her. 

***************************** 

"I swear to God, Tara, I think there is a raccoon or something out there!" Edith was saying, trying to convince Tara to open the window and chase away whatever was out there. 

Suddenly, the window slid open from the outside, and both of them screamed. Tara drew her pistol and Edith looked for something to use as a weapon.

"Hey! Put the gun down," Daryl griped at the women as he appeared through the window.

"What the hell were you doing out there?!" Tara demanded to know. "Hunting another possum?"

"Funny." Daryl scoffed. "and mind yet own damn business."

"Fine!" Tara threw her hands up at him. She shook her head as she left the room. After a long awkward minute, Edith followed her. Daryl gestured out the window for Etta to come inside. The two were on their way down the grand staircase when Maggie found them. 

"I'll show you guys to the rooms you can use tonight," she told them, leading them down the other hall. Once she was gone, Etta looked at Daryl and grinned.

"So, your room or mine?" she asked.

[iturmom]

i guess this is a d*nation post but i don't even know what i would do with money if it's d*nated because there's legitimately no way i could raise enough to fix my problems because although i have suffered immense trauma i don't have like cancer or some equally terrible health condition or something equally extreme in the eyes of the masses at least. but i'll briefly explain the situation i'm in so you can see that it really is extreme (ca is $ityourmom if you can give anything, and please boost)

i worked my ass off to build my life even though everyone, especially the powers that be have been against me and all the odds have been stacked against me all my life. yeah i had a fucked up childhood and grew up in poverty and trauma and had no support. don't want to go into details for the sake of brevity. i was kicked out of my grandma's house after high school bc she didn't want to be responsible for her fucked up grandchild. fucked up of her but fair. i didn't really have any support. i put myself through college full time and worked full time through most of college to make ends meet

i had to rent out both of my rooms to afford rent (i was renting a trailer from my grandma) so i had to sleep on the couch. fucked up my back real bad but that's mostly recovered now. i had some terrible roommates but the last one attacked me. police didn't help protection order was denied so i had to flee the town (he still lived in that town and for brevity's sake just know i wasn't safe there) stayed with a friend but it was too much for her with 4 kids and 5 dogs and her own bullshit she had to deal with and she was moving to a different state anyway so she had to kick me out. i couldn't find a place to live within my budget so i packed up my life and my cats and left my dream job to move to alabama to live with my neonazi mother and her equally fucked up conservative husband. this was the beginning of covid and i lived with her for 10 months. she was abusive and it escalated to her trying to kill me. her husband helped her but she was the primary assailant. it was honestly horrific but the worst part was when the cops got there and she was still on top of me attacking me but i was the one who got arrested. when i got out of jail i was picked up by these people who ran an unofficial group home (arranged by my mother and she paid for my first week so it was worth it at least for the first week. it quickly went to shit). they were "recovered" meth heads. they were insane bible thumping racist conservatives. they were abusive to me. they kicked me out for something i didn't do and i had to stay in a hotel for 3 weeks and subsist off a single pizza a day.

i moved to live with my girlfriend in texas. i had to go back and forth for court dates on my dollar even though the case was ultimately dropped. all this bullshit drained my savings. i had $5,000 (tax returns and stimulus checks with a little of that being savings from work) at the time that i was arrested almost 2 years ago and now i have almost nothing. my girlfriend ended up being very abusive. she knocked my head into the wall and i fleed with nothing but the clothes on my back and my wallet and 3ds (no charger) which i used for internet to try to get help and the dv hotline. went to the battered women's shelter. might i interrupt to remark on how bullshit it is that my mother tried to kill me and the government punished me for it and stole all my money and society left me homeless but my girlfriend just hit me once and i got free food and rent among other things for 2 years fuck this bullshit garbage evil system.

so now i am living in a restorative living program for vulnerable women but the program is dissolving and we have about 6 months to figure something out except that timing is not set in stone it could be much less. my case manager is being hella shady lately acting like i'm just a lazy fucking bum treating me like i'm just gaming the system for free rent which i am and i have every right to after all that this system has done to me, all that it has enabled to be done to me, and all it has stolen from me. THEY PLAYED ME FIRST okay? BUT. i'm doing everything i signed up for to participate in this bullshit program and i've also been working my ass off to get public assistance and i keep getting denied for disability and i don't think i'll get it even though i am way too traumatized and fucked up to function AND i can't participate in a system that has taken everything from me and fucked me over even if i WAS stable enough. which i'm not i'm constantly haunted by a lifetime's worth of extreme trauma and i can't get medication prescribed that would fuck me up enough to make me able to function. i've also been denied almost every other public assistance except food stamps but they require you to go through an intensive program and work 30 hours a week because food is not a right and i am absolutely not stable enough to commit to that. well i got exempted since i'm applying for disability but like i said i keep getting denied and i don't even know if it's worth pursuing any further so i'll lose food stamps too.

so i can't get any public assistance, i'm way too fucked up to depend on myself and don't trust this system to sell my soul to it again, my case manager is being shady so i don't know if she's actually going to help me find another program once this one dissolves (which isn't a gaurantee that she'd find anything anyway) or if she's just going to kick me out since i'm such a fucking leech in her eyes, even though i'm doing everything i signed up for, going through the ringer to try to get public assistance, all while i'm barely functioning with cptsd, add, and anxiety.

so my future is completely uncertain and i'm terrified and my mental health is spiralling out of control. i don't know what to do bc i've tried everything and the system is rigged against me, has used me up and broken me and is ready to throw me out like trash. i'm helpless and hopeless and i don't think there are any options for me. i don't think there's anything i CAN do in this situation i'm fucked and i'll never get justice i know that for fact and i don't think i'll get any support. but also i don't think i can possibly raise enough money to fix my problems. i don't know how much i need. nothing is certain for me right now. what i really need is help. i need justice. i need disability. i need options. i need my life back that was stolen from me that i busted my ass to build from the ground up.

[kopicetic]

Yeah okay so Detroit beat the Fucks at the game we went to and also I had a MOMENT.

So I've been kind of posting about my personal life, which I don't usually do a ton but like I needed to talk this out I guess lol.

Anyway we went on a trip to Detroit for a friend's birthday and it was like a garbage trip all around pretty much. Like just all this shit happened, and it wasn't even like monstrous stuff, just everything adding up and all.

It was like fine traveling with him, we had a good time, but it was getting home, he was gonna drive my car over to the rental car place and then pick me up, and we were in his place when someone is banging on the door.

Like okay, for some background, I know he's in an open relationship with his girlfriend. We've known each other for several years now and she's always accused me on and off of trying to fuck him or steal him, etc. And I also know she was blowing up his phone this whole weekend. Like texting nonstop and calling. I didn't see it, but my friend told me it kept popping up on the car screen lol.

So like the moment I hear the door knocking and he looked up and ignored it, I *KNEW*. So I moved out of view of his door but the damage was done, she saw my back, she banged on his door for fucking 15 minutes and he kept ignoring and texting her until it sounded like she was kicking his door.

So he goes over to deal with her finally, they're both screaming at the top of their lungs, I'm looking for a way out because I don't know where he keeps knives nor did I have anything I could use as a garrote because this bitch is obviously upset as fuck AND she's a fucking meth head so like. I'm gonna fucking defend myself if it comes down to that.

She's standing there screaming about who was the woman in his house, she fucking loves him, he was ignoring her, she misses him, she needs to know, it's not fair, he's yelling about how she needs to go away, fuck off, he's calling the cops, the whole neighborhood 🥫 hear it, I'm debating running through the patio but he was blocking her from the door so she was still facing the house.

Now. This bitch might be a junkie but I can pretty much guarantee I'm likely one of the only redheads they mutually know. Like I have dyed bright red hair. Even a meth head can put two and two together and sometimes get four.

Sure as shit, she messages me. And I admit, I lied through my teeth. Kind of. I told her I only saw him one day, nothing was happening, it was for a pogo friend's birthday (which it was), we weren't dating (which we're not), I haven't seen him since. You know, I figured I'd leave out the part where we fucked twice a day like the entire trip. 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

She tells me they were only open so he could have a boyfriend, not another girlfriend, and I don't do polyamorous relationships, I already knew this about them, and it's one of the reasons I have zero interest in dating him.

Like hi, you can have feelings for just me. You can fuck whoever. But if you're going on dates with them too, and talking outside of arranging hookups, and having feels for them too, fuck outta here, I don't care about physical stuff, but if you emotionally cheat on me, you can go to fucking hell lmao. And I told her that, I think we bonded a bit.

Like I don't want to steal your boyfriend, I just want his dick for a while. But you can keep him.

So now here we are. He still is coming off like he wants way more, I still have zero interest in dating him and I don't trust him lol.

But damn the sex is good though. 🤣🤣 So like. Now I guess I'm just gonna keep doing what we were doing, at least until December because we have plans to go to Philly and NYC.

But I don't know that any boy is worth dealing with psycho girlfriends. And again, I know it sounds sketch but I knew he had a girlfriend, and they've both confirmed now that it was open, just she thought it was open for only him to have other boyfriends and not other girlfriends.

Anyway I'm tempted to send the boy back to the manufacturer for a refund because I got a faulty one and start over again because this is becoming too much. Throw the whole entire man out and start over. 🤣🤣🤣

[gegewrites]

mr.whites daughter 17-kid on the corner

Your  pov-

Walter has been keeping eyes on Jesse all day. Yesterday, when we left and in the parking lot , he told Jesse that he thought he was stealing meth, and that if they ever found out...he couldn't protect him. I threw my suit into the bucket, closing the lid as heard Jesse put the lid on the container. "I'll do it." My dad said and I turned around and looked over to them. My dad walked around the table and weighed the meth. "The hell? I can't work a scale now?" Jesse asked as I walked over,"this is bullshit. Just say it." My dad put his index finger to his lips and then motioned around the room. To the "wires" that Gus was possibly listening to. He walked away as I walked up to Jesse. "Jesus." I whispered shaking my head. "Bull-shit." Jesse whispered walking past me. I picked up the container and put it under the table, A few others say against the wall under the counter. "What are you doing tonight?" I sat on the table and looked at my nails. "NA and uh nothing. My place or your place?" He asked from the lockers, him and my dad getting our of their suits. "Wanna come to my place?" I asked, hearing my dad belt buckle, I looked up towards them. "Yeah sure." He looked over at me as i got off the table and walked over. "I'll see you there, I'm gonna head out." He held his hand out to me and I took it. "Sounds good." He gave me a kiss,"want me to pick up food? Doghouse is near by." "Sure."

Jesses pov- NA-

I sat in a wooden fold out chair. I looked around at a few new faces that the group leader instructed to raise their hands. Badger and skinny were in the group of people as well. "Why don't you start." The group leader gestured to women in a purple shirt and leather jacket...I won't lie, she was pretty cute. "My names Andrea." She said glancing around. "Go on, we don't bite. There's no judgement here Andrea, be as open and honest as you want."  He gave her a smile and nodded. "To be honest...I don't wanna be here." She crossed her arms. "Fair enough, who else had their hands up?"

When we were finished, I walked over to the table that skinny and badger were standing at, looking at a plate of donuts. "What's up? I'm Jesse." I stuffed my hands into my hoodie pockets. "Hello, I'm Brandon." Badg pointed to himself and then skinny,"and this is i belive Peter." "I'm Peter, how are you?" Skinny asked, I rolled my eyes and walked away, the followed me past the table. "Alright, so heads up,"I started,"gonna get a little slow smugglin product, Grandpa is watching me every minute." "Alright." Skinny nodded. "So? How's its selling? Mad volume?" They looked at eachother and back at me. "Yeah it's uh..."badger crossed his arms,"ya know, not so good?" "What do you mean?" My brows furrowed,"how much have you sold?" "A teenth." He answered. "A single teenth? To who?" He pointed to skinny and I shook my head. These fuckin pussys. "It's not easy selling to them." Badg said. "Yeah, their all about like positivity and shit." Skinny crossed his arms. "I'm risking my ass and you two are too pussy sell?" I looked at them both,"Fuckin pathetic, o want it all back, I'll sell it myself." "Yo man, don't be like that. It's like shooting a baby in the face, it's not right." "You know what? I'm gonna show you just how easy it is." I looked over to the group leader, Andrea getting her attendance sheet signed,"Fuckin watch me." I walked past them and to the door as Andrea walked up as well, we almost opened the door at the same time, but stopped. "Sorry, you're Andrea right?" I asked, a smile growing mh lips. "Yeah." She nodded with a smile and k leaned foward. "My names Jesse, and uh I don't wanna be here either." I leaned back and looked at the door,"sorry, uh I got it." "Thanks." She said as i opened the door for her, I looked over my shoulder to skinny and badger. Imma show them how fuckin easy it is.

I walked up the cement path up to (y/n) apartment stairs. I took hold of her house key that was on my key ring as I walked up the stairs. The bag of food from the dog house was in my left hand. I could see a bit of the TV through the curtain in the front window as i unlocked the door. I opened it, taking my key out and I closed it and locked it. "Babe!" I called out, walking to the breakfast bar and putting the bag and my keys down on it. "Yes I can come in tomorrow." She spoke on the phone as she walked down the hall from her bedroom,"well what time are they getting there? I'll just show up like half an hour early." "Saul?" I asked and she nodded kissed my cheek. "So I'll be there at 10." She leaned on the counter and nodded,"yes I'll go with the detailer, once I find out more. Saul shut up." She hung up the phone and I chuckled, opening the back. "Gonna buy the detailer?" I grabbed her order out and handed it to her and grabbed mine. "One I find out a bit more." She walked over to the couch and plopped down, I walked around the counter and to the fridge. I grabbed our two beers, grabbed my food and sat down next to her. "It's be Fuckin nice yo." I handed her a beer,"get some work done on your stang, make that bitch look hot." "She's hot." She said and I leaned towards her. "She's plain."

Your pov- Next morning-

I put my heels by the couch as I heard my bedroom door open. "Oh shit." Jesse yawned,"serious deja vu." "Right." I walked over to him and gave him a kiss before making my way to the coffee pot. I opened the cabinet and grabbed out two mugs and felt him wrap his arms around my waist, and rest his chin on my shoulder. "Love the smell of your perfume." He groaned and kissed my neck. "I'm aware." I put the mugs down and poured coffee into them. I reached my left hand behind me and into his hair, lightly scratching my nails on his scalp and he groaned,"you're like a fuckin dog." "Bark bark bitch." He chuckled and gave me another kiss on my neck before standing up Straight and grabbing his mug. I locked mine up and leaned against the counter and looked at him,"Whatcha doing tonight?" "Hoping to get in contact with my detailer, if possible. He's a very private and cautious guy Saul said, so he's gotta work some stuff out." I took a sip of my coffee as he leaned against the fridge. "Where's this place even at?" "It's over by the dragway." I walked away to the couch and he followed,"they do a lot of work on the veichles that the gangs and cartel own, pay alot of money for it, so...we'll see." "The cartel?" He asked sitting down next to me,"this detailer has cartel connection?" "And I'm hoping it's not a problem."

Better call Saul office- 10:00-

I pushed the door open to the office. I heard coughing and crying babies. "Go right in." Fran said, I gave her a nod and walked to the door, giving a smile to Huel, opening it and closing it behind me. I tossed my purse onto the couch. "Why are there so much crying babies out there?" I asked walking towards the flashy man at his desk,"some women coming in for your childish support check?" "Oh god no." He laughed shaking his head,"let's get down to business," I sat in the chair in front of him,"I'll do the talking, you just sit here and look pretty." "I'm sorry what?" I crossed my arms,"sit here and look pretty?" "Pretty much, only trying to give the illusion on you working here." I shook my head at him. "I'm talking, so, your trying to get them buy a lazer tag business?" He nodded,"alright..." "What?" "I'm just gonna sit back,"I stood up from my chair,"and watch, I'm gonna go make myself a Nescafé." "Make me one too."

After 10 minutes, I walked out of the back room and saw my parents sitting my the door, I walked up to Fran. "Can you send the whites into the office in 5 minutes?" I asked her and she looked at me with a face that said 'why are you asking me?',"just do it Fran." I walked back to the door, holding to cups of coffee in my hand,"can you open the door for me Huel?" "Sure thing." He said, he stayed in his seat, but he grabbed the door knob and opened it. I I walked in and he closed it behind me. "Aah thank you." Saul was leaning on the front of his desk. I walked over and handed him his mug. "I asked Fran to send in the whites in 5 minutes," I walked away to the couch and sat down, putting my mug on the table,"do not embarrass me." "How would I embarras you?" He asked crossing his arms, I looked at him in silence with my brow raised. "Saul, the whites are ready." I heard on the com. "She's sending them in early." I said as he reached behind him to the phone. "Send them in." He hung the phone up.

I leaned foward, grabbing my mug and taking a sip as the door opened. "Welcome!" Saul said walking over to the two, my mom looked over at me and gave me a smile before looking at sauls diploma on the way,"just gonna call you skyler if that's alright. Love the name skyler, reminds me of a big beautiful sky." Saul chuckled,"prior to unfortunate events Walter told me how lucky he was. Seems like his taste in women is the same for his lawyers, only the very best with the right amount of dirty." I looked at Saul with my jaw dropped slightly, my parents stayed silent, especially my mother. My dad glanced over at me and I shook my head. "That's a joke, cause obviously you're very classy, much your daughter." He gestured to Me and walked backwards,"come on let's sit down and get to business." They sat down and I stood up, I made my way over to sauls desk, and sat on the corner on it in front of my dad. "So you have concerns going down this road." I started, trying to move this conversation along in a professional manner. Between Saul and I, I was more professional then him, he knew it, he's told me. "To start off, I just wanna give my condolences to your brother in law, he's an American hero and I wish him a speedy recovery." Saul said. "Thank you." Dad said and my mom nodded. "I need assurance that this is safe and we're being cautious about this." My mom crossed one leg over the other. "That's fair, let me take you through the process. So I'm going to take walters money, and run it into another business, that he going to buy. We're going to.." he went on tlaking about money laundering. "Saul Saul," I cut him off,"she's a book keeper, she knows money laundering is." "And the devil is in the details," my mom said,"so what are we saying in the source of this money?" "We'll Walter made up this great story about gambling-" my dad cut Saul off. "That was actually skylers idea." He stated. "You get hotter by the minute." I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. "Do you speak to all of your clients like this?" My mom asked. "Only to the mother of my favorite assistant." He chuckled and I heard my phone ring from my purse. "Excuse me." I said and walked away. They kept talking as I grabbed my phone from my purse. I flipped it open and answered it and made my way outside of the office.

I walked past clients and went right out the door. "Yo?" I heard Jesse say. "Hey sorry I was in the office, Saul is like hitting on my mom, not really sure. What's up?" I stood in front is sauks car, looking out to the street. "Just wanted to hear your voice I guess..." I hummed at what he said. "You okay?" I was a little worried. "Yeah nah I'm good, I'll see you tonight though right?" I heard his car door close. "Definitely, you got a key let yourself in. I gotta go, i don't want Saul Ina room with my mom." I chuckled and he laughed. "Yeah yeah I'll let you, love ya." "Love you too." I hung up.

I walked back into the office, to the door and walked back in. My parents were standing. "Alright have a good day you two." Saul chuckled. My mom walked towards me with a smile. "I'll see you later mom." I gave her a hug and she hugged back. "I feel sorry for you." She whispered to me. "Its more then just flirting." I whispered back and she pulled away,"have a good day you two." "You as well." My dad said and they walked out. I closed the door behind them and looked at Saul. "I'm gonna ignore what you said about my mother and get on with business." I walked over,"let's talk about this detailer, cause I have to invest in a new place to live along with this now..." he gave me a confused look,"landlord is selling my place." "Wel alright then." He clapped his hands and went back to his desk,"I was talking to the guy this morning. He wants to meet you personally at the detailing shop, wants to meet who you are." "Okay." I sat down in front of his desk. "You'll sign the papers for ownership, and I'll do the rest. I send over your funds in incriminates, you'll get your ownership paycheck every month, it'll all be your money." "We'll shit I hope it's all my money." I crossed my arms,"I know nothing about detailing, so..." "Don't worry about that, just show up some days, blah blah blah, you'll be fine." He pointed at me,"in a few days I'll send you an adress, he'll meet you there." "What the hell is his name?" I asked,"haven't heard or seen a damn name." "The only name I've gotten from him is Coal. Like the stuff you use to light a grill." "Coal?" I repeated and he nodded,"have you seen this man?" "Yes." He nodded,"older man-" "Full head of grey hair?" He nodded,"Raul Brecking?" "Howd you know?" He leaned fowards. "I've sold and bought meth and other narcotics from him since I was 20." I answered plainly,"I've met his family. Look, why don't you tell him I'll be in contact with him, no more middle man." I stood up from my chair and walked back to the couch,"I have to meet a real estate agent," I picked up my purse dropping my phone into,"get a place that matches my paycheck." "Smart thinking." He snapped his fingers,"I'll be in touch." "Sounds good Saul."

A few days later- Jesses pov-

(y/n) is looking for a new place, so when we haven't been working she's been out with a real estate agent looking at places. She hasn't been having much luck with finding a place right for her....and uh, I've been hanging with Andrea. I'm just tryna sell to her, but I found out that she has a kid named Brock, and uh, yeah. "Hey Jesse right?" Badger asked walking up to me,"Brandon, Peter." "Dumbass." I shook mh head at them. "Just Teyna keep it on the DL man." Skinny crossed his arms,"so you and that girl...you do the deed? Sell to her?" "What are you two even doing here? Can't Get your game up to sell so what are you doin here?" I asked, looking at the church door waiting for Andrea. "Man I'm on step five homie." "Same in catchin up." Badger said and I looked at like they were fuckin idiots, and I saw Andrea walk out. "Whatever man." I walked away but badger grabbed my Fuckin arm. "Yo," he whispered,"you messin shit up with (y/n)?" "I'm just tryna sell man." I shook my head,"I gotta bounce." I walked away from him,"yo Andrea!"

Your pov- Next day-

Another fuckin day with a real estate agent. Main reason why I'm moving is because before I got a call from Saul about my parents meeting a few days ago, my landlord called. He got an offer on the split apartment and was selling it to someone who wanted to turn it into a normal house...gave him a good price and now I gotta move within 3 weeks. 3 fuckin weeks, I'm on the second week already. "So this place." The agent handed me a paper with details about a new house,"it's one floor, 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, 2 car garage, and a pool and a in ground hot tub." "101 Negra Arroyo Lane?" I asked looking up at her and she nodded,"my parents live at 308." "We'll then it's prefect, close to your parents, and in your price range." I sharply exhaled,"we can leave now, check the place out...I think you'll like it." "Yeah...yeah sure let's go." I got up from my chair,"I'll meet ya there."

I closed the door to my car, tossing my purse into the passenger seat and I just stared at steering wheel. This place was 250 large with only an option to buy...I put the key in the ignition and started my car. I buckled my seat belt, and drove out. I reached into my purse and grabbed my phone. I glanced back and forth from my phone to the road as I found my moms contact number and called her. "Hey mom?" I said when she Answered. "Hey sweetheart, how are ya? What do you need?" She asked. "Are you home by chance?" "Yeah." "Can you meet me at 101 Negra Arroyo Lane?" I pressed on the brake lightly as the light turned red and came to a stop. "Why?" "I have to move and it's the only place in my price range that looks good. I'll be there in 25 minutes with my agent." "I'll meet you there." She hung up. I closed my phone and tossed it into the passenger seat as the light turned green. I let out a sigh and pressed on the gas. Jesse was supposed to be doing this with me, he said he was. Yet I haven't seen him since that morning before sauls. Talked on the phone and that's it, I got half a mind to call Brandon or Pete and ask them what the fuck is up.

Half and hour later-

"I gotta find a moving company." I said leaning against the kitchen counter of the house I just wrote a 250 thousand dollar check for. "Want me to handle that for you?" My mom offered. "Could you? I gotta pack up still." "Don't you worry...we'll get it all situated." She Pat my shoulder,"but hey, you have a Pool now." "Damn right I do." I let out a laugh,"what am I gonna do with two bedrooms? I only got like 7 things of furniture, that's a bedroom and a living room." "Get creative." She jumped up onto the counter ,"remember when we moved into 308, three bedrooms, you were 9z what were we going to do with the spare room? Made it into an office for some time, then a storage room, then a nursery." "Are you telling me to have a kid?" I looked up at her. "Not exactly." She shook her head,"we'll not now, maybe later?" "Who am I going to have a kid with?" "Well...Jesse?" I looked at her with wide eyes. "I mean yes maybe , but did you really just say that?" I stood up crossing my arms,"don't you hate him?" "I can work around it if you love him." She slid off the counter,"go home, start packing, I'll find you a moving company and I'll give you a call tonight." "Alright." I nodded as she Pat my shoulder and walked past me to the front door and looked at the empty living room and nodded. "A wine rack." She stated and opened the door. "A wine rack?" I looked at her and she nodded,"fuck it why not."

Next day- Jesses pov-

Andrea told me yesterday about how her kid-brother Tomas. Ran to a gang at 8, and shot someone at 11, was either him or someone else. That guy he shot...that was Combo. My phone rung in my jacket pocket, didn't look at who it was, just kept my eyes on the lid riding his bike in circles. "Yo." "Am I gonna see you tonight?" It was (y/n),"haven't seen ya outside of work in good while." "Shit yeah, I'll come over tonight." I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel,"or I mean don't know, if you're like all packed up and ready to leave that apartment you can sleep at my place?" " I'll let you know, moving guys we're supposed to be here an hour ago." She sounded defeated, felt bad. This choice that making with Andrea wasn't supposed to be more then just sell to her, but my mind is slipping back into addiction so,"I gotta still gotta pack up this Fuckin kitchen." "Aight, I'll see you later." "See yeah." She hung up. I put my phone back in my pocket and got out of my car.

I crossed the street and over to the kid. He stopped as I got near him. "Hey, you the man, Tomas?" I asked, putting my hands in my pockets. "Watchu want?" He asked staying on his bike "Crystal, think you can hook me up?" "300." He stated. "For a teenth?!" Goddamn. "300." He repeated, I grabbed my wallet from my pack pocket and two 100s and two 50s. He looked past me and k looked over to another street as a black Monte Carlo with detailed with flames rolled up.

I looked at Tomás and over to the guys and walked up.. They didn't speak just looked at me. I looked down each side of the street and handed him the cash. He took it and counted it, his buddy nodded and they drove off. I watched them turn left at the end and drive off. I looked at Tomás and walked over, he grabbed the teenth from his pocket and handed it to me. The meth was blue. "Bounce." I gave him one last look before turning around and walking back to my car. I had the teenth in my first as I walked away. I just bought a teenth of blue meth from these guys for 300 dollars. The same meth Combo had on him. "Motherfuckers."

[the-fiction-witch]

Just so you know I could

REAL LIFE COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: CUTE + SCARY

I checked everything was cooking nicely making sure it was all good and simmering nothing undercooking and nothing burning. I looked up catching my reflection in the mirror I fixed my hair a little and ran my fingertips across my lips and mouth just to double check feeling the spiky stubble on my skin, I did shave Tonight but I know she likes it sometimes Just then I heard the door so I hurried down the hall making sure I looked presentable before opening the door 

“Hi!” she giggled giving me tight hug so I smiled wrapping my arm around her 

“Hey y/n!” I smiled giving her a kiss 

“Come on! Tis date night” she giggled hurrying inside, I smiled and shut the door behind her as she took her stuff and hurried into the living room, I went and finished up with the cooking taking it out to the living room setting it all up on the table as she giggled “Wine! Wine and true crime!” she giggled getting her two bottles of wine out her bag she brought with her 

“Wine and true crime” I laughed 

“Would you like a glass of wine?” she asked getting the glasses from the table 

“I would like a glass of wine my darling.” I smiled while taking the bottle, opening it up and doing our glasses “Would you like to choose the true crime documentary?” 

“Ummm you know me so well my love” she giggled sitting on the sofa with the blanket getting the remote, I sat down with her handing her the glass of wine grabbing a couple of cheetos from the bowel on the table sitting back and stealing some blanket from her putting my arm around her 

“Hey? Where’s my kiss?” I complained 

“Where ever you left it” she smiled picking the documentary 

“Don’t get smart with me darling” I smirked putting my arm around her 

She paused it and smiled widely leaning back and giving my lips a gentle kiss I kissed her back and gently pulled her closer till she pulled back and gave my nose a kiss 

“That’s enough of that” she smiled

“Come on it’s date night” 

“Wine and true crime, then sexy time” she says turning the show on 

I smiled and kissed her head having a sip of my wine as we watched the show 

‘It was a usual night in the smith household, Fran made her husband a very special dinner full of untraceable chemicals deadly to the humans but untraceable after twenty four hours. Laced on the glasses, on the cutlery, in the food, and in the wine. As soon as Luke fell she cut his body up with the carving knife in the bathtub, flooded the bath with bleach and sent both down the plug into the London sewers. His bones and flesh were deposited in 1kg bags left in bins around a twenty mile radius around their house.’ the show explained 

I slightly watched y/n a little nervous as she casually sat sipping her wine,

“What?” she asks as an adbreak came on so she turned to me

“..... Can I be honest?”

“Yes”

“I’m kinda scared of you darling”

“Why?” 

“You watch a lot of these shows.” “So?”

“You probably know a very good way to murder someone….. And get away with it”

“Ohh thomas I’ve seen enough true crime I could kill you with a pen and not get arrested” 

“Do you have a pen?”

“.... maybe” she smiled “To be fair thomas you could get away with murder. You’ve seen breaking bad”

“Breaking bad is not a good tool for getting away with murder. It is a good instructional video for making meth though” 

“So…. you wanna make some meth thomas?” “Just because I have seen breaking bad does not mean I am going to make some meth”

“So me watching true crime doesn’t mean I’m gonna kill you” 

“Okay” I smiled, giving her a kiss “But just…. You could?”

“I could.” she nods “Likely invite you over for a nice lovely dinner and do nothing important send you home with cookies with a chemical that is toxic but will leave little trace in a post mortem likely something alcohol based so when they test your blood alcohol it won’t seem unusual, so when you eat the plate of cookies over the course of the next week or so it’ll build up in you system killing you, and if I don’t want someone finding your body simply rip your teeth out, cut off your hands and feet, burn the body and then throw your charred remains in the themes as that's already full of bodies so they won’t find you, throw your teeth in the sea at margate, put your hands and feet in a sink full of bleach along with any tools, until the skin is weak and then let it break down into a bloody sludge and slowly put it over the course of a week into the sewer system” she explained “Ohh my show” she giggled as it came back on 

“......... and you wonder why I worry about you murdering me! You have it planned out that much!” 

“I’m not going to kill you thomas. I don't want to kill you…. Right now.” “Then why did you tell me all that?” “Just so you know, I don’t want to kill you” she smiled “But. you know If I ever catch you cheating on me” she smiled giving my cheek a kiss “Love you”

“.... I love you too, Very very much .Please don’t kill me.”

“Just so you know I could” she shrugs “Ohh by the way I made you some cookies there in my bag”

“I haven’t done anything I swear!” I yelped

“Relax, there just cookies” she smiled

“Ohh good” I nodded returning my focus to the show downing the rest of my wine

 “Or are they?” she giggled 

[brandyllyn]

War makes thieves, and peace hangs them (pt1)

Summary: When Santi needs people for a mission he knows just who to call. But it quickly becomes apparent they’re short one key role - a thief. Preferably one with nice breasts who makes friends easily.

Told from POV of Triple Frontier characters and while it’s an OFC she is never described. Her "name" is a radio handle. 

Other chapters... My Masterlist

Word count: 2319. Read it on AO3.

Author’s note: Look, I’ve been itching to write something hella raunchy and while I love my other fics they’re full of soft people being dorks and falling love. This is not that. This is filthy smut basically from the go. The plot (what of it there is) exists solely to allow these people to have sex. Also, Fuck Tom. He’s in this fic for like 90 seconds before I summarily get rid of him.

Rating: R swearing. objectification. drugs (mentioned, not used). gendered slurs. no sex in this chapter.

"It’s a five man job," Santi was saying it for the third time that night but Benny just kept shaking his head at him. Across from Benny, Frankie pushes his ball cap off, tossing his arm over his chair and letting it dangle from two fingers.

"C’mon you guys," Frankie starts to say but is cut off.

"Maybe, but not this five," Will points out.

"You had no right to call in someone else without talking to me," Santi can feel the edge to his voice.

"Am I wrong?"

The question deflates the irritation out of Santi. No, he wasn’t. That was the shitty part. The more they found out about this job the more he realized they were going to need someone with a different skillset than the five of them. "Fine, who is he? How do you know him?"

"We ran into each other in South Africa. Ended up on the same job, different sides," Benny taps a finger against his beer bottle. "A few other, less than legal, follow-ups. They’re the best I know of Santi."

"Yeah," Santi picks his bottle up, draining the last of it. "But all things considered I’m not sure that means much."

Benny rolls his eyes. "Whatever man, they’ll be here tonight. I’ll introduce you and you can make your own decision. Fair?"

Santi nods once and watches as Benny gets up. "I’ll get the next round." The other men waggle their beers and Benny doesn’t even bother counting before heading off the empty outside patio and back into the bar.

It was a quiet night, at a quiet out of the way bar. From their vantage on the patio over the water they can see people as they arrive, but also are surrounded on three sides by water, minimizing eavesdroppers.

"I don’t like it," Tom grumbles and Santi turns to him.

"I feel like we’ve covered that," he points out.

"Some new guy we don’t know? Fuck Pope, this whole thing is already too dangerous," Tom continues.

"What do you want me to do," he hisses. "I’ve come too fucking far to back out-"

He pauses when he hears the door to the patio open, a waitress coming through with a tray of beers. He’d clocked her from the corner of his eye, about eight miles of the longest legs he’s ever seen in his life, bare from tiny denim shorts down to a pair of unlaced combat boots.

Those were odd. Not necessarily what he would have expected. He studies her a bit more closely as she sets the tray of beers down, squatting next to the table to transfer the tray from her shoulder to the table. Tom had already fallen face first into the girl’s cleavage - which was either ample or benefitting greatly from being on display in a bright orange halter top that started somewhere around her rib cage. She returned Tom’s lascivious stare with a wink, brushing her body against the man’s as she stood back up and passed one of the bottles to him.

Santi reached for one but was blocked by her body as she leaned across the table, sliding a bottle to Frankie who rubbed a hand over his mouth and tried in vain to make eye contact with something other than her breasts. Will was silent on receiving his, a half smile on his face as he watched her stretch a bottle to him. Finally she turns to Santi, placing the last beer in front of him and flipping the tray up under her arm.

"Tu amigo pagó," she smiles, gesturing with her chin inside. He glances that way and sees Benny nodding back from the bar, tucking bills into his wallet. "Tienes algo…" she starts to say and he turns back to see her pluck a bit of fuzz off the collar of his shirt. Smiling, she pinches it between her fingers and flicks it over his shoulder. "De nada."

"Gracias," he winks at her and she winks back before flouncing off the patio and back into the bar. Both Frankie and Tom turn around fully in their chairs to watch her - but Santi was perfectly positioned to watch the sway of her ass as she went back inside.

"Hot damn," Tom gives a low whistle.

Santi rolls his eyes, focusing on the beer in front of him. To his left, Frankie is fiddling with a coaster before he suddenly jerks and looks at his hand with suspicion.

"What the fuck?" Frankie snaps. "Where the fuck is my hat?"

"What?" Will asks.

"My hat. My fucking hat." Frankie holds up the coaster and glares at it, then at Santi. "Where is my fucking hat?"

"Did you set it-" Santi starts but Frankie cuts him off.

"I was holding it in my goddamn hand. And now I’m not." Frankie pushes himself back from the table, peering under it.

"What’s got Fish riled up?" Benny asks, sliding into a chair on the other side of the table.

"He’s throwing a fit about his hat," Will fills him in.

"Fuck you, I liked that hat," Frankie grouses, eyes still scanning the floor.

Ben laughs and Frankie shoots him a dirty look. "Ah, I see you’ve met our thief then," Benny says with a satisfied smirk.

"What?" Frankie jerks forward, the legs of his chair hitting the wood of the deck with a thunk.

Santi cocks his head, "You set up a little audition did you?" When Benny nods Santi grins. "The waitress?" Will nods again and gestures to someone inside. A minute later, the woman pulls up a chair next to Ben - wearing Frankie’s hat. He had to admit, she looked cute. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her face before, a little preoccupied with other parts of her, but she was quite stunning.

"You should give Frankie his hat back," Santi tells her in a low voice.

"Nah," Frankie quickly interjects, a little slack-jawed. "You can uh… you can keep it. For a bit." She grins at Frankie and judging from the look on his friend’s face, Santi had an idea of what mental image Frankie would be jerking off to later that night.

"Boys, this is Wildcat," Ben wraps an arm over the woman’s shoulders, "the best thief I’ve ever met. And ours for this mission."

"Neat trick with the hat," Tom says to her breasts.

"Not to burst your bubble Benny," she turns to him, "but I can’t take the job."

"What? Why not?"

She reaches into her top and while Santi would have sworn that you couldn’t fit so much as a tic-tac in there she manages to pull out a small baggie of off-white crystal powder. A flick of her wrist and it lands in the middle of the table. "I don’t deal with this kind of shit."

Santi reaches for it, getting there just before Tom who mutters 'bitch' under his breath. Holding it up for a moment he studies it before hiding it under his palm on the table. "Who’d you take it from?"

"Me," Tom sounds defeated.

"Yeah, like I said, I don’t deal with this kind of shit." She turns to Benny and shrugs, "Sorry babe, you’ll have to find someone else." She gets up, leaning over the table and placing the ball cap back on Frankie’s head and giving it a flirtatious tap. From his angle, Santi can see practically the same view as Frankie, as well as the line of her back and the curve of her ass as she leans over.

She kisses the top of Ben’s head when she stands up, giving Tom a wide berth and going around the table. Santi doesn’t watch her past that, eyes on Tom.

"What the fu-" but he’s interrupted by something shiny dropping onto the table.

"Sorry," her voice was right next to his ear, "forgot this."

It takes Santi a full five seconds to process what he’s seeing. One of his dog tags. He pulls his chain out of his shirt quickly, sees the primary one… and the loose shorter chain hanging empty.

"Son of a-" he turns but she’s at the door already, winking and blowing him a kiss before leaving.

"Pope let me-" Tom starts but Santi turns on him.

"Fucking meth, man? What’s wrong with you?"

"Hey, it’s just a bit to help me keep going," Tom raises his hands, "don’t fucking act like it’s the end of the fucking world."

"You’re out," Santi says it with finality.

"What?"

"Anyone have a problem with that?" Santi looks at the other three men but they all shake their heads.

"Fuck you," Tom spits, "fucking Fish has a coke problem and I don’t see any of you-"

"Hey," Frankie leans forward, pointing a finger at Tom, "you can go fuck yourself."

"Not if I-"

But Santi is on his feet, hands in Tom’s shirt as he walks the man backwards a few steps and shoves him against the low railing on the patio. "I love you man, but I can’t have this shit. It’s too important. Go back to the hotel."

Tom deflates. "It’s just to help man. Just to help."

"I know," he pats Tom on the shoulder. "I know. But you’re gonna have to sit this one out." Santi watches the other man leave. "Go get her back," he tells Ben.

Will swipes the baggie from the table, raising an eyebrow in question and Santi nods. Will quickly turns and tosses it into the lake beyond.

She slid into Tom’s chair without so much as a twitch of her eyebrow that the other man is gone. "Are we trying again?"

Santi sits down to her left. "First tell me how you got my dog tags."

"And my hat," Frankie asks.

"Quick fingers," she says, "two distractions."

"Two?" Frankie asks and she winks at him.

"One. Two." She shrugs each shoulder, making her breasts jiggle with the motion. Frankie blushes and reaches up to cover his face with one hand, pretending to scratch his beard.

"Seriously," Santi grabs her attention again, "how’d you do it?"

She shrugs again, "People don’t watch for the things they should be watching for. You guys… you’re perceptive. Situationally aware. You could probably tell me every weapon within sixty feet of this table." She smiles, "You’ve noticed my hand on your arm, and you’ve noticed my foot against your ankle." He had, was enjoying the feel of her fingers against his skin and her toes rubbing along his sock. "But where is my other hand?"

Santi startles, looking down. Her other hand comes into his line of sight and he sees she’s holding a watch.

"Wait that’s-" Will splutters.

"Son of a bitch," he mutters and hears Ben laugh. He turns on Will, "What were you watching?"

She answers for him, "He’s been watching my mouth." Will coughs but doesn’t deny it. She grins at them both before leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, waggling her fingers. "Figure out where someone wants their attention to go and you can make them concentrate on anything."

Santi bites his lip before he looks over at Benny. "You trust her?" Ben nods. "Then she’ll do."

"Oh goodie," she snarks, "a dream come true. So what’s the job?"

Santi lowers his voice as he outlines the next few days. She asks good questions and the five of them roughly map out their plans. When they finish, Santi leans back in his chair. "So, we’ll meet in the hotel lobby tomorrow morning, 0600?" Everyone around him nods except for Ben who just curses.

"Fucking hell Pope, you know I hate mornings."

Will rolls his eyes, smacking his brother in the arm, "How the hell did you get through Airborne with an attitude like that?"

"By being a damned good Ranger," Ben grouses back.

"And cheating on the written shit," Frankie mumbles into his beer. Ben shoots him a glower but Frankie just smiles to himself, ignoring the other man.

"Well, if you boys are done," Cat breaks in, "I have a date." For just a split second Santi thought she was looking at him, but he follows her gaze over his shoulder and sees a petite brunette wearing a leather mini-skirt and white tank top crooking a finger their way. Cat winks back at her and rises gracefully from the table, palms flat against it. He couldn’t help but notice her long fingers.

When she gets to the other woman she wraps a hand behind her neck, pulling the brunette into a kiss. Even in heels, the woman was a good three inches shorter than her. The brunette breaks the kiss and leans into her, whispering into her ear. Santi sees her eyebrow go up, a half smile, and then she was looking back at their table and those beautiful legs were coming their way.

"Ben?"

"Yes Cat?" the man answers with a raised eyebrow.

"Can you vouch for your friends?"

Benny doesn’t hesitate before answering, "With my life."

"That’s good to hear," she grins. "Frankie?"

The man’s head whips around. "Yeah?"

"Would you like to come with us?"

Frankie blinks and Santi almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.

"Wha-?"

"Teresa would like for you to come along. And I’m not opposed. So…?"

Frankie’s moment of confusion passes in a heartbeat and then he is shoving his chair back and scrambling to his feet. "Fuck yes."

She laughs, leading him back to the brunette who is grinning. The brunette wraps one arm around Frankie’s waist and the other around Cat’s as they leave. The three men left at the table watch them go in varying stages of disbelief.

"Lucky son of a bitch," Will mutters and Santi can’t help but nod.

"Some thief you found us Ben," Santi says into his beer as he leans back in his chair.

"She’s the best," Ben grins back. Part2

[softomi]

Meet the Slayer and her Crew

Life wasn’t always peachy, sunshine, and rainbows; yours was filled with blood, gore, and constant running. Born in a bloodline of slayers, you were part of the few living lineages left. Raised with a tight collar, your free time was spent training to defend yourself. Your after school extracurriculars were mythology literature, weaponry, witch craft, and some days cooking.

“How come she gets to leave right after school?” Many watched you, the last bell ringing signaling class over and while the rest of the students linger for club activities, you entered the car that pulled up to the school gates.

“I heard her parents came and blew up a storm saying that she didn’t need club activities; she’s going to take over her family business or something.”

It was true, as the only daughter, you were to carry the lineage. You needed practice and training to pass on the knowledge.

You always found it lonely and because you were lonely, the world decided to bestow onto you, three losers.

You weren’t intending on running into anyone that night and if you did, you could always play it as a nightly running exercise; but how could you explain this. The pesky vampire’s fangs were mere centimeters from your skin, it drew blood and just as you think that maybe this would be the last time you would breathe; the vampire is thrusted off.

Your hands tightening on the crossbow, the vampire starts running; the aim is dead on, the arrow penetrating him in the heart, and he falls to ashes.

The knot in your shoulder tightens and you’re stretching it out as you turn with a grin, “You’re incredibly late.” You expected to see one of your family friends, they insisted on going out with you that night but what you’re met with is three pairs of eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“What the fuck was that?!” Atsumu falls to the ground, having been the one to touch the thing he suddenly feels infected.

Osamu is taking a step back, oddly aware of the crossbow in your hand, “What?”

The third, still and quiet, Suna almost passes as calm but his eyes show a sudden panic. He isn’t even saying anything, an awkward laugh coming from his mouth.

“I can totally explain!” You drop the crossbow, waving your hands in front of you.

“Explain what?!” Suna shouts.

“Why? The ashes? The crossbow?” Osamu is stuttering.

Atsumu has his hands in his hair, “I touched it. I touched it. I touched it.”

It makes you wonder some days, just how the three losers were so quick to adapt to your lifestyle. It was a secret at first, reluctantly, you let them follow you on your nightly adventures. They would watch in awe and fear at the way you’d handle the monsters. Monsters, that’s what they would constantly call them at first.

Three months, you spent three months with them trailing behind you; constantly bickering with them to stand down. Three months saving their asses as they ran from anything and anyone. They were so quick to act big but then shrink away when a newly turned vampire crawls from the grave.

But then it happened, you dreamed something that shook you to the core. You dreamed of their blood on your hands, sadness in their eyes as they looked at you. The moment your eyes opened; a chill ran down your spine.

So you did something you had never done before, you were going to fight for what you wanted.  

“Let them join me.” You weren’t going to back down. The first time you asked, your parents responded with a harsh no. You jabbed the knife into your father’s desk, a cold stare into his eyes, “I am the future head of the household. I am only one person; I need people. I need people who are properly trained.”

“You’re asking us to train amateurs.” Your father speaks, “Little boys.”

“They’ve survived longer than most. I want them.”

And you got them. It was surprising just how quick they were to accept the ‘private tutoring’ as was listed in their formal invitations.

It was just as surprising how well they did in training. Atsumu competed with you in both combat and weaponry, you two have a little rivalry; but who’s keeping count on who knocks down the other the most. Atsumu is. You were a still a few points ahead, but he insists that the first few months don’t count; he was just getting the hang of it.

Suna seemed to fair better in mythology and demonology lessons. It was the one subject you still struggled with but it was one in which he soared in. You began to secretly think that he had been reading up during the three months they were following you. He’d snort seeing your latest grade on the quiz, his perfect hundred made your face red and you swore vengeance on the next quiz.

You weren’t surprised at how well Osamu excelled in witchcraft as well as cooking. He liked to think of the two as going hand in hand; something your mother noted as an excellent point. She hit your head when he made that comment, muttering about how at least someone understands.

“I take it back, I don’t want any of you here anymore!” You shouted one day when Atsumu landed you on the ground, “I used to be star student.”

“That was when you were the only student.” Suna remarks.

Atsumu leans over your body, a grin on his lips as his head blocks the sun from shining down on you, “Looks like we reached a tie sweetheart.”

“Guys, I think I finally did it. A potion that gives you extra speed.” Osamu appears from the house with glasses on a tray.

“Not it!” Suna and Atsumu shout in unison and you groan.

Osamu gives you a grin as you take the drink, the smell was wretched, “Couldn’t you have added vanilla into this?” You take a small sip, spitting it out immediately, “I swear to god Samu, if this gives me a tail again, I’ll bite you.”

Extras:

Miya Atsumu

“You need to cut off its head.” Suna’s voice was drowned out, the earbud in which is voice was coming from had fallen out of Atsumu’s ear.

“What!” Atsumu screamed as he struggled to keep the creature off, his shielded sword pressing against its neck, but it didn’t stop it from dripping drool on Atsumu, “The fuck this thing drooling so much for.”

“You need to cut off its head!” Suna was practically waking the whole neighborhood.

The creature hissed when a silver bullet penetrated its skin. It snarled, turning its body to you. Your own earbud had already fallen out at the front door when its sister creature had tackled you through a wall. You had told Suna the earbud idea was dumb. You continued to shoot the shotgun, your silver bullets running out as he neared you.

“Atsumu!” You’re calling out, “It’s your turn!”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Atsumu was too distracted wiping the saliva off his face, picking up the earbud and shoving it in his ear, “I’m going to kill you Suna!”

“Cut off the head!” Suna shouts in his ear.

The slime splattered across your face, green coated your skin. You spat out what reached your mouth, the thing fell and behind it Atsumu stood with heavy breaths. Atsumu tossed the earbud onto the ground, stumbling to you. His footsteps are heavy, the sword clattering to the ground, he rests his head onto your shoulder.

“It drooled on me.” Atsumu whines.

You shove him off, “Yeah well you got slime in my mouth, we’re even.”

Miya Osamu

“Uh, Samu!” You were currently backed into a wall, your eyes looking all around, “It’s gone!”

“Just give me a second!” He’s calling from the first floor of the library.

You heard scuffles, you’re trying your hardest to listen keenly. The light footsteps to your left make you turn and throw a fist; you’re not sure if it makes a dent into what you’ve hit; but they’re definitely angry. It lifts you by the waist, your body hoisted into the air, your back colliding with one of the shelves.

You’re groaning loudly, “Samu! Any minute now!”

“What’s taking so damn long!” Atsumu barges into the room.

“Got it!” Osamu starts reading the literature, dusts of light grow from his palms; when he finishes the last line, he blows the dust. It spreads quickly, it disappears when it touches plain surfaces but the creature screeches as the dust paints its body.

“Catch!” Osamu throws a gun to you, it bounces off the railing and back to the first floor, “Sorry!”

You’re sighing deeply, hands gripping a chair to break its wooden legs. You use one of the legs as a stake, driving it into the heart of the creature. It falls to the ground, lying limp as the twins finally make their way up to the second floor.

Osamu presses a hand to your shoulder, “That was a close one right.”

You punch him in the gut, “Suna would know it off the top of his head!”

Suna Rintarou

“What’s it look like?!” Suna calls within the forest.

“Ugly!” You’re calling back as it knocks you down, it’s long arms reaching to pull you by the leg. Your foot meets its face, its teeth snarling when it’s kicked back.

“You gotta be a bit more specific!” The fog is frustrating Suna, even the twins have found themselves lost, you were the only one who called out to him.

“Suna!” Your yelling more as it cuts you with its nails across your stomach, “It’s shape shifting! What the fuck are you!” Your hands shake as the bullets do nothing to it, “Four legs! It’s torso is flipped backwards, fucking looks like Slenderman on meth.”

It pops into Suna’s head, “Oh! You’re not supposed to look at its face!”

“Well, it’s too late now!” You’re staring directly at it. You’re on your feet, the silver dagger in your hand as you hold its gaze, “How am I supposed to kill you!”

“You need to take out its heart!” Suna sees you, through the foggy air, he’s finally reached you, “Hey. I’m here.” You shiver at his touch, “If you give me a second, I can clear the fog. The twins can come.”

“No.” Your own blood drips from your skin, you strike the dagger sharp into the air; it extends tenfold, “I’m finishing this.”

You rip the heart out from its chest, its blood dripping through your fingers. Your foot atop its lying body; the fog settles and the twins appear not far. Suna stares at the way you’re waving the heart in the air.

“Can you not.” He states.

“Suna! Take a picture!”

“No.”

[straighttohellbuddy]

i'd really like to hear about 5, 27, and 32 for the 35 fanfiction writer question game! if it isn't a game/i misinterpreted what you meant, i'm really sorry!

It is an ask game! Also I love you thank you!!

I'm putting this one first because I've wanted to talk about it for a while, and yeah it should probably be a post of it's own but here we go;

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I think there's a real art to being able to write X Reader fics, and I think the more you write, the more nuance you develop in order to weave a story around the reader's characteristics to make it inclusive while also personal. i think there's a conversation to be had about inclusivity in the YouTube x Reader community, and while the heavy prevalence of NB!Reader fics is amazing, we still have to look at what other biases we're inserting into our works. descriptions of, or moments regarding, the reader's skin tone, size, hair, clothing choices, family, etc, should be considered carefully if you're looking to make this as accessible as possible for the wide variety of readers. i appreciate people who specify if they're writing a particular type of reader (chubby!reader, or short-haired!reader, etc) because it sets a precedent for the fic, but if you go in without that caveat and suddenly the reader is being described as tanned or with long wavy hair or something, that breaks the immersion and alienates the readers who don't fit this narrow description. uh, also this is just a small thing, but when writing NB!Readers, don't forget about AMAB nb folks existing and being taken into consideration in your writing.

like i said, there's an art to being able to write around describing the reader, while still making the story feel personal. we just have to think about if what we're writing would make sense if we were not ourselves, if that makes sense???

also just personally i'd like to see more diversity in the people chosen for the representations of the read in IG/SMAU posts.

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

I actually don't have one definitive answer for this because I've been writing for a very long time so I have a few favourites for different reasons.

for this blog; once you say it out loud it can't be undone {Corpse Husband} | 17K. non-fatal hanahaki au ft. bes frend ethan gameplays. of course this is my favourite, have you read it? it's good!

Feelings are fair game for nine months out of the year, but God forbid you develop a crush during Hanahaki Season; three months of coughing up petals just because you’re in love with someone who doesn’t love you back? It’s a damn inconvenience. You haven’t had an active Hanahaki Season in the four years since you started YouTube, and you think that since you’re in quarantine, not going outside, not meeting new people, you’ll be fine this year too! Except that you start playing Among Us with a group of people you’ve never met before, friends of friends, including the elusive Corpse Husband, who’s kind, and funny, and may be flirting with you, but you’re not quite sure. The point is, you make friends with him not expecting much beyond a streaming buddy, but then you get talking more often, chatting and joking at all hours in DMs, and he’s calling you sweet nicknames on stream, and you wake up on the first day of your Season coughing up flower petals and cursing yourself for falling for a man who’s first name you don’t even know!

but also because i can and will plug my own shit

Reader Insert (also my Overall favourite rn); heard your name in every love song {Ben Hardy} | 72k. fwb-to-lovers, also the author clearly has an x-men hyperfixation. actor!reader.

When you’re twelve and you have a crush on your babysitter, your parents think it’s puppy love, think it’s cute, and you’ll forget about it soon enough. When you’re fifteen, and your former babysitter’s on TV in one of the UK’s most successful soap operas, and is still decidedly hot, all you can remember is the advice he’d given you, and how he’d let you win when playing videogames. When you’re nineteen and you score a supporting role in an X-Men film, the last thing you’d expected was to be acting opposite your former babysitter, and - as it turns out - romancing his character; he’s still decidedly handsome, and you’re definitely not a little kid anymore. He doesn’t even recognize you, and you know what? You’re glad.

OC Fic; Molotov Heart {Alex Summers} | 70k (ish). follows the sequel x-men trilogy and literally spans 20 years. ALSO CLEARLY THE AUTHOR HAS AN X-MEN HYPERFIXATION

Aoibheal Cassidy didn't hesitate to follow her big brother, Sean, when he's recruited by Charles and Erik, even if she's not technically a mutant (yet). By his side, she grows up as the youngest member of Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, but world won't wait for a girl to grow up, and her life is torn apart by war and disaster; things get worse before they get better. As the years pass, she realises she always ends up on Charles's team with Alex and Hank by her side, even if she's not the little girl they once knew.

and finally, purely canon fic: not from the absence of violence | Breaking Bad. 6.5k. au where jesse gets out of the business like he wants to in season 5, and comes home to find a teenage runaway living in his house.... actually its kind of a little bit of an oc fic but not the way my oc fics usually are.

Sometimes a family is one of the (former) best meth cooks in America, his two best friends who happen to be (former) meth dealers, a teenage runaway, and five million dollars. -- "...and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it." - Richard Siken

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I feel very very lucky and very blessed to receive such lovely and kind comments on the fics that I write, but I've got two that stand out the most in my mind, and it's the comments @bingusmode and @marvelsmurphy left on the aforementioned once you say it out loud it can't be undone {Corpse Husband},,,, literally i would die for both of them. i reread the comments on that fic every so often because everyone is so damn lovely, but i just grin like an idiot and turn into that picture of kermit hugging his phone whenever i read their comments specifically. i love you guys

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

for my upcoming fic that i posted those memes about a few days ago; 'god's perfect idiot {Wilbur Soot}'

light-hearted streamer joins smp; shocks everyone with capacity for angst

I loved this!! feel free to send in more!!

[iam93percentstardust]

I'm bombarding you with those prompts, so I fully understand if you just ignore all those you don't like, lol. Would WinterIronFalcon be an OT3 you're intrested in writing? Some established WinterFalcon with Tony pining helplessly after them, not believeing he could have a chance? With a dash of angst in it? Thank you ♡

There isn’t much angst in this but there is hopeless pining so yay?

Also on ao3 here

~

“Share Bear, it’s not fair,” Tony whines into the phone.

“What isn’t?” his cousin asks, sounding patient but also kind of amused. He takes the phone away from his ear and squints at it. Is she making fun of him? She probably is, Sharon always makes fun of him. She’s mean like that; he’s pretty sure she gets it from Natasha.

“They’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t stand it.”

“Oh. Them again. Seriously Tony, didn’t you used to have better taste?”

“Excuse you,” he says, offended. “My taste is perfect.”

“They think arguing is foreplay.”

“It’s bickering! And it’s cute!”

“Gross,” Sharon says cheerfully.

“God hates me,” Tony says dramatically, flinging his hand over his eyes. “That’s why he cursed me to work with two such beautiful humans who are already dating each other.”

“Tony—”

“I know Bucky stays up to date with the fandom,” he continues, going a little quieter. “He’s gotta know that tons of people ship the three of us. But he doesn’t say anything about it. Share Bear, why doesn’t he say anything?”

“Probably because for every person who ships all three of you, there’s twice as many who ship just you and him,” she admits. “I know that if someone were shipping Maria and Nat and ignoring that I even exist, I’d be pretty upset.”

“Yeah,” he says glumly.

“What’re you filming today anyway?” she asks.

“True Crime. We were supposed to be doing an episode of Supernatural at the Odinson Mystery House, you know, over in Norway where the son found out he was adopted and then got super into Norse mythology and supposedly disappeared into a rainbow?”

“Oh yeah, that guy was crazy.”

“Wasn’t,” Tony insist stubbornly. “There are three different eyewitnesses and they all saw the same thing.”

“All three eyewitnesses tested positive for meth.”

“It was trace amounts and ruled irrelevant to the case. Anyway, there’s some sort of blizzard so our flight got canceled. We figured we’d get a jump on this season’s True Crime episodes instead.”

“What are you doing this week?”

He scowls into the phone. “Fandom episode. They voted for Captain America.”

He can practically hear Sharon wince. “I’m sorry. That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not least because both of them know exactly what happened to Captain America. He was recovered from the Arctic back in the 50s and went on to live a very happy and fulfilling life with Aunt Peggy. But that’s a very closely guarded state secret; the U.S. government can’t let it get out that Steve Rogers survived nearly a decade in the ice. Technically, Tony and Sharon aren’t even supposed to know but Aunt Peggy had insisted she be allowed to tell them after she took custody of Sharon and Tony moved out of Howard’s and into her home. It’s kind of cool actually, knowing that Uncle Steve is really Captain America. He’s a pretty great guy. It just kind of sucks that he can’t tell anyone about it and now he has to do a whole episode about it when everyone knows he’s a shitty liar.

He’d talked it over with Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy when the results of the vote had first come in. Aunt Peggy’s advice had been to act more manic than usual, throw even more outlandish theories into the mix, and really make this episode about the banter between him and Bucky. “Direct their attention away from Steve,” she’d said. “They’re already going to be looking at you. Just make sure they’re doing it for the wrong reason.”

He kind of wants to kiss Bucky. That would definitely draw attention away from the episode. But that’s not fair to either Bucky or Sam, who are very happy with their relationship and don’t need a homewrecker like Tony throwing a spanner into the mix.

“Good luck,” Sharon tells him before they hang up. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Wow, thanks,” he mutters but she’s already gone.

~

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty webseries about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

Now they have a fandom and merchandise and actual fanfiction written about them, which is the craziest thing. They both have several often-quoted gifs floating around the Internet and Bucky has somehow become the poster child for being unimpressed by literally everything (he actually makes some of the best faces when something genuinely scary happens but they always end up editing those parts out—he has an image to maintain after all).

They brought Sam on once they started gaining in popularity. Tony, by that point, already had a pretty well-established crush on Bucky. He’d even thought that he had a chance with his co-host, small as it may be, and at first, it hadn’t seemed like Sam was going to change anything. He and Bucky argued all the time so Tony had been absolutely stunned when he’d stumbled upon them making out like it was the end of the world.

They had just finished filming their second season. Sam had suggested going out to a local bar. He’d suggested it for all three of them but Tony had, inexplicably, felt like a third wheel all night as Sam and Bucky bickered. At one point, Sam had disappeared off to the restroom and a couple minutes later, Bucky had followed him. Tony doesn’t know how long he had sat there waiting for them but he’d eventually gone looking for them only to find Sam pressing Bucky up against a wall.

And that had been that.

Three years later, Sam and Bucky are still going strong, Tony is as smitten with Sam as he is with Bucky despite knowing how hopeless both crushes are, and the fandom seems convinced to either write Sam out of Tony and Bucky’s relationship or write Tony into Sam and Bucky’s. He wishes they would stop. He stays pretty up to date with the fandom as well and they have all these meta posts about the way Bucky looks at him or something. It just keeps giving him hope but, well, it’s been three years. If Bucky wanted him, or if Sam did for that matter, they would have done something long ago.

~

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sam asks him as they’re setting up.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He avoids meeting Sam’s eyes, focusing instead on adding creamer to the coffee. Marvels had presented them with these mugs last year to congratulate them on four years of Unsolved. They’ve got their most iconic quotes printed on them, Bucky’s with “Obviously I killed JFK” and Tony’s with “I’m the dramatic bitch your mom warned you about.” Sam has one too with his one and only line in the entire show printed on it (“Why did I agree to work with you?”) but since he’s always behind the camera, he doesn’t have to use the same mug for each episode.

“You just seem a little off.” The worst part is that Sam genuinely looks concerned. If they didn’t care about him, he thinks his crush might be easier to manage but they do because they’re just nice guys like that. “I know you weren’t too thrilled when we announced this week’s case.”

“Howard worked with him, practically hero-worshipped the damn guy. Of course, I’m not excited.”

Sam winces. They know all about Tony’s shitty relationship with Howard after his dad called Marvels furious that his son was hosting a webseries instead of coming home to grovel at his feet and take over the business. The whole team had been brought in to listen as Fury tried to placate him. By the end, Bucky had been furious on Tony’s behalf and Sam had berated Fury for twenty minutes for making Tony listen to the vitriol his dad had spewed. It had cemented his crush on Sam, then just a passing fancy, into something real and permanent.

“Seriously, Sam, I’m fine. Might be a little off today but I would have said if I didn’t think I could do it.”

Sam doesn’t look convinced but he agrees anyway. Tony sits down next to Bucky and passes him his mug. Bucky shoots him a grin and murmurs, “Thanks, doll.”

Tony doesn’t blush but that’s only because he has five years of practice. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Sam counting them down and he turns to face the camera, settling his hands in front of him.

“This week on Marvels Unsolved True Crime and in celebration of our 100th episode,” he begins, “we asked you what you’d like us to investigate and you came back—”

“—overwhelmingly,” Bucky interjects.

“Many, many times,” Tony agrees, “with a topic near and dear to my own heart: Captain America.”

“That’s right,” Bucky says, sounding surprised though Bucky had been the first to point out that maybe they shouldn’t do this episode because of Tony’s connections to Project Rebirth. “Your dad helped turn Steve Rogers into Captain America, didn’t he?”

“And he never let me forget it!” Tony says cheerfully.

“One hundred episodes,” Bucky says slowly, enunciating each word. “Can you believe that, doll?”

Sometimes, he wonders why the fans ship them when Sam is right there. Other times, Bucky says things like this and he understands completely.

“Not even a little bit, Bucky Babe.” Okay, so maybe he doesn’t help.

“One hundred. The big one zero zero.”

“We tried to do something extra special and get Sam in front of the camera for you guys—”

“—so you could see what a hunk he is—”

“—but Sam said that he didn’t trust anyone else to film us properly—”

“—which makes sense because Tony? If you put him in the wrong light, he’s practically a gremlin—”

“Hey!”

“I’m just telling the facts.”

“Well, the facts are wrong.”

“They’re facts, sweet thing, they can’t be wrong.”

“Can too. Anyway, since Sam refuses to join us—”

“—and that just breaks my heart because Sam, he’s one of my favorite guys, you know?”

Tony pauses. It’s not like Bucky to say anything nice about Sam. Usually, it’s all good-natured insults and bickering. He must really be fed up with the Starkbucks shippers to say something like this when they’re still this early in the show.

“Only one of?” he asks curiously.

Bucky shoots him one of those filthy grins that their audience loves so much. “Well, it’s hard not to include you on that list,” he drawls.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to—

Damn it.

Whatever. It’s no big deal, that’s what editing is for. So what if Sam has never edited out one of Tony’s blushes yet? Maybe Tony will get lucky and he will this time.

“You know, I was actually named for Captain America’s sidekick?” Bucky asks, getting them back on track.

“Wow, that is deeply unfortunate,” Tony deadpans.

“Yeah, Dad’s a fanboy. His whole troop was pinned down and rescued by the two of them. He tells the story all the time—kind of like your dad.”

“Except my dad goes straight past into fanboy and directly into obsession territory.”

“…Fair enough.”

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Bucky shrugs and takes a sip out of his mug. “I’ve been inside your house. I’ve seen the Steve Rogers shrine. I’m not going to argue with you.”

Tony thinks about that for a moment. “It is kind of a shrine, isn’t it? Anyway, we’ve got some great stuff for you today. We’re going to crack open this cold case, show you some never-before-seen footage courtesy of my mom sneaking my dad’s old war tapes out of the mansion, and then we’ll talk a little bit about the theories out there.”

“How many of them are going to be ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible?”

Tony glares at him. “None of them. I have never once presented a ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible theory.”

“Right because alien abduction is a valid—”

“Aliens are real!”

“You said that crabs might have eaten Amelia Earheart!” Bucky shouts over him.

“It’s a valid theory!”

“I take it back, you’re not one of my favorite people anymore.”

“That really hurts me, deep inside,” Tony says sarcastically, trying to cover up that maybe that does send a small pang shooting through his chest. He likes the thought of being one of Bucky’s favorite people. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“How deep?” Bucky asks and winks.

“Very deep. Way, way deep down. Practically in my—”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his coffee. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Let’s get into the facts.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

~

“With a missing plane and pilot and so much redaction in the files, we’re lucky to even have a name, let’s get into the theories.”

“Actually, wait, before we do that,” Bucky says, “I want to ask if you’ve ever noticed that your voice changes when you’re doing the voiceovers.”

“Wait, what?” Tony asks. He glances at him, to one of the cameras, then back to Bucky. “What do you mean?”

“You know, it gets all deeper like you’re trying to voice movie trailers or something.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Sure it does.”

Tony shakes his head. “There’s no way.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Told you!” Bucky says triumphantly.

“You’re such a child,” Tony sneers.

“Yeah, that’s why you like working with me so much.”

Behind the camera, Sam silently snickers and Tony glares at him before telling the camera, “If you’re watching, let us know in the comments. Is my apparent movie trailer voice okay or does it need to go like Bucky clearly thinks?”

Bucky goes paler. “Hey, wait, I didn’t say it had to go.”

“It was implied when you brought it up,” he argues.

“No!” Bucky insists. “I was just wondering if it was on purpose.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Aha!” Tony says triumphantly.

“Traitor,” Bucky mutters into his coffee.

Sam signs, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home tonight.”

“And that was more than I ever wanted to learn about Sam and Bucky’s love life,” Tony lies through his teeth. “Let’s get into the theories. I only have two for you today, one of which I think Bucky will particularly like.”

“Oh no.”

“Our first theory is that Steve Rogers died in a plane crash on December 16, 1944. Winter months in the Arctic are known to be particularly stormy. There would have been low visibility due to the high latitude and time of year and with the waters and surrounding land being well below freezing, it’s possible that, even if Captain Rogers survived the impact, he would have frozen to death in the stormy seas.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, that seems plausible.”

“In addition, Howard Stark, a known Captain America aficionado and the father of Marvels Unsolved’s best host—”

“You lie like a rug!” Bucky howls.

Tony snickers and then when Sam signs, “He’s really not,” bursts out into full-out laughter.

Once he’s recovered, he continues, “Howard Stark has spent the first fifty years after the crash of the Valkyrie and the last twenty funding searches in the Arctic in the hopes of recovering Captain Rogers’ body. He has found no evidence that Captain Rogers survived the crash although he did find part of the remains of the Valkyrie and has since stated that, ‘No human could have survived that crash.’”

The expeditions are a scam and have been since Howard first found the Valkyrie crash site and Uncle Steve along with it. He hadn’t been planning on continuing the expeditions—too costly, as he claims—but when Aunt Peggy had told him that Uncle Steve’s survival had to remain a secret, he’d kept them up for pretense’s sake.

Bucky is saying something about how it sucks that the first superhero is gone and when he finishes, Tony grins and says, “Then you’ll like our second theory.”

“Somehow, every time you say that, I end up completely hating it. Wonder why that is.”

“Our second theory is that Steve Rogers survived the crash and is still alive but cryogenically frozen in the ice. There—”

“Bullshit!”

Tony starts laughing but he tries to continue on over Bucky shouting that it’s complete nonsense. It’s hard and he knows that Sam will probably have to do some editing and maybe make Tony do some voiceover work in order to make the theory audible but he thinks he manages to do a pretty good job.

Bucky is pouting by the end of it, arms crossed over his chest. “What fucking bullshit,” he mutters.

“The supersoldier serum—” Tony starts to point out.

“Isn’t a miracle drug.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“No, it just made him big and strong. It doesn’t just magically keep people alive when they should have died.”

And then they’re off into familiar territory, arguing about the merits of either theory. Tony’s actually feeling pretty good about himself, convinced that he’s doing a decent job of steering the conversation away of anything classified, right up until Bucky says, about halfway through the episode, “I’m surprised at you, Tony.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Surprised?”

“Usually, you have some absolutely batshit, off-the-walls crazy theory but these have actually been pretty normal for you.” He pauses and then adds for effect, “And you’re usually much better at your research than this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, even I know that there’s one more theory.”

He starts tapping at his chest nervously, almost wishing that he had a pair of sunglasses. Aunt Peggy always said that his lies are in his eyes, that they’re too expressive to hide the truth. When he was living with Howard, in the spotlight, he always had a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes but he hasn’t wanted to use those since he moved out. He wishes he had them now.

“And what’s that?” he asks, feigning a casualness he doesn’t feel.

“That Steve Rogers lived and came out of the ice at some point and has been living out his life in anonymity.”

He barks out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mention it because even I know that that theory is completely impossible.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” Sam nods agreeably. Bucky nods back at him and adds, “Even Sam agrees with me.”

“He’s your boyfriend, he’s practically required to.”

Both Sam and Bucky laugh at that one and yeah, okay, it was a pretty ridiculous statement. Anyone who knows them knows that being boyfriends is less likely to make them agree with each other.

“Look, Steve Rogers didn’t come out of the ice alive. Howard would have known for one thing and if you think, he could keep something like that quiet, then you don’t know him very well.”

“Maybe the government insisted it be a secret,” Bucky suggests, shrugging. “There have been plenty of people who have claimed over the last couple decades to be Captain America.”

Tony scoffs. “Oh come on, by that logic, anyone could be Captain America.”

“Maybe they could be.”

“No,” Tony says flatly. “It’s like that crazy conspiracy theory guy over on Reddit who’s convinced that Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Maybe Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Ooh do the butts match?” Tony says mockingly. “I mean, really, Bucky Babe, if we’re going off of lookalikes, then my fucking Uncle Steve is secretly really Steve Rogers, which is ridiculous because the guy’s like practically ancient and faints at the sight of blood in PG-13 movies.”

That sets off another round of arguing that lasts the rest of the episode until finally Tony wraps it up with, “Whether Steve Rogers died in 1944 or is still alive today is a mystery that will remain unsolved.”

They both pause for a moment to provide time for Sam to edit in the theme music and closing title. Usually, there would be some lighthearted bantering afterwards, maybe a joke about something they said earlier in the show. This time though, Bucky says thoughtfully, “The thing is, though, I’ve met your Uncle Steve—”

Tony goes cold.

“—and he really does kind of look like—”

Tony panics. That’s the only explanation that he has for declaring, “I’m done waiting,” reaching across the tables and grabbing hold of Bucky’s shirt, and yanking him forward to kiss him.

For a moment, Bucky is too startled to do anything but then he melts into Tony, mouth opening under his, tongue pushing forward to meet his. Bucky’s arms come around him, pulling him up and out of his chair and settling him into his lap. Tony makes a small greedy sound, swallowed by Bucky’s kiss, and then they’re both pulling away. Bucky’s lips are very red; Tony can’t stop staring at them even as he’s filled with dismay.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Why not?” Bucky demands.

“You—Sam—” He glances toward the camera but Sam isn’t standing there anymore. His heart drops into his stomach—has he just ruined Bucky and Sam’s relationship? But then he hears someone drop to their knees behind him and when he turns slightly, Sam’s fingers are on his chin, gently turning his head.

“How long?” Sam asks.

“How long what?”

“How long have we been wasting our time when we could have been kissing you instead?”

Three years, two months, and fifteen days. “Too long.”

Sam kisses him then, mouth gentler than Bucky’s but no less consuming. Bucky is a hard, hot line against his front; Sam is warm against his back and Tony? Tony loses himself in the storm that is the two of them, sparks shooting through him as Bucky’s hands find their way to his hips, as Sam’s tongue slips into his mouth, as Bucky whispers into his ear, “We’re not wasting any more time.”

~

Marvels Unsolved’s 100th episode shoots to their most watched, most liked video in less than a day and when asked, maybe the smallest handful of viewers could have said what it was about.

The day after it posts, only a week after it was filmed, Tony’s phone rings.

“Kill it with fire,” Sam says sleepily.

Tony, however, recognizes Aunt Peggy’s ringtone and he rolls over to grab it before Bucky can throw it at the wall. “Hello?” he asks groggily.

“Congratulations on not blowing Steve’s cover,” she says.

“Oh yeah,” Tony mutters. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“One more thing, duck.”

“What’s that?”

“Congratulations on the new boyfriends.”

[libidomechanica]

In the sentimely deigning

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presence and ever perfect, just set, as erst parents     fortune see my attendants, whose poet’s knocking o’er again, guest, if it would display’d     that allured fire, that all in which the best the cold,—but Verbum sat.—By ways be below     there who will bitten bade me halls, what awful yawn was her nation to sweet, and peasants.     So in his both fair from where was

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hear and the the break the sample makes her breathed     by Time them, so we all in white tried lately remained speak, and weep, and still mould express     suffix was a rumourier recorded to the pouting from hurt dog at thought, they did     pains the sea. Their was he gardens, when I scorne of the laws of his own, of pure she noble     shall I go, friend, to command might.