#trench fanfiction

[measurelessdreamer]

One of these scogan Post-X-Men: Days of the Future Past fics where Logan changes things so everyone from the original timeline is alive and he’s back at the school and about to find out somehow that he and Scott are a thing in this new timeline, but first, after Logan is done explaining himself to Charles, Scott is charged with showing him the way to his room and they talk sort of but not really and all of a sudden they both hear a very happy “Dad!” screamed through the hallway and they both turn and there is a little girl of age four (or more), smiling and running towards them and Logan doesn’t get it because he hasn’t seen her before and he had no idea a child so young could even be at this school and someone here is her father but who? Cyke himself? And he’s about tu turn to see if someone else is standing behind them when all of a sudden the girl slams herself against his legs with such force that it wavers his stance for a moment and surely she hurt herself just now because there is adamantium on his skeleton and there isn’t any on hers and she is only a child after all but then he looks at her and not only is she completely okay, she is also staring at him and she is smiling and as much as it doesn’t make sense, it slowly dawns on him and just as he is about to accept it, the girl lets him go and then hugs Scott, more gently but with no less amount of affection and Scott is affectionate right back but he is also trying to send her away. Only for a moment, though, so he can talk with Logan, and the little girl frowns and doesn’t like it but caves in when he promises to get her some ice cream and Logan doesn’t get it yet again and as if it wasn’t already bad enough, the girl finally smiles again and nodds and then she says, “Thanks, papa!” and runs back where she came from, leaving Logan so awestruck it feels as if he’s a mere breeze away from losing his balance.

Part II | Part III

[myosotisa]

every day i look for him - and every day i meet the same fate

[donutdisturblivball]

finding out that michael sheen possibly reads and writes fanfic is simultaneously both the best and worst news of my life

[qveerthe0ry]

Misfire

Summary: Dieter gets waxed for a role and gets a little too excited. Word Count: 966 Pairing: Dieter Bravo x GN! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, dubious consent, body hair waxing, pain kink, humiliation kink (kinda), subby!Dieter, ruined orgasm, coming untouched, hands-free orgasm, reader does not engage in sex acts, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drug use, accidental exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism Note: I'm hoping this will be part of a long series of one-shots where I write Dieter as a pathetic little subby, desperate, whimpering mess. As of right now I don't have any big plans for what to write next, but I'm always down for suggestions ;) - Also, I had a hard time with the warnings on this one, don't hesitate to let me know if I missed something that needs tagged.

Dieter Bravo does not feel shame.

His entire schtick is doing whatever the fuck he wants, unapologetically. He hasn’t batted an eye at a tabloid headline in decades. 

But now… Now he feels like a fool. He’s gone and landed himself a really stupid part in a low-budget film about a bunch of old guys on an Olympic diving team. 

Which, first of all, ouch. He knows he has some years under his belt, but he wasn’t ready to be typecast into old guy roles this early on. 

But second of all, ouch again, because he’s gotta get a full body wax for this dud of a movie that’s inevitably going to sink anyway. 

And not ouch in a bad way, per se. But ouch as in he’s kind of really into the sting, and he’s ass naked on this cold table covered in paper, hard as a rock. 

Which was fine when he was turned onto his stomach. He was able to squish his cock in a not-so-pleasant way to stave off the desperation. 

But now you’re telling him to flip over, and he doesn’t want to move. Any other time he’d be dying to get his cock out and swing it around. But you’re just trying to do your job, and here he is, leaking onto your poor little waxing table, soiling it.

With a heaved sigh, he rolls onto his back, clambering all awkward on the small space. You’re turned away from him, preparing the next glob of hot wax, and his cock throbs. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, quiet and shameful, and you barely hear him.

“What’s that?”

Dieter can’t say it again. He just grumbles and covers his eyes with his arm as you fiddle with your waxing supplies and glance at him.

“Oh. It’s fine, happens all the time. I’ve seen worse.” 

That at least gets him to huff out a laugh. You sound unbothered, and it eases him a bit. 

“I’d hate to see worse,” he tries to joke.

You just hum in response. 

You start on his chest, though there’s not much to wax there. His armpits are ticklish, which makes him even harder. His cock bobs in the air, angry and red and neglected. He’s afraid to move, he’s afraid to breathe, he’s such a hair trigger. 

He starts thinking about all the directors he hates. He goes down the line, from his earliest project he can remember, and he’s about halfway through when you finally finish his shins and knees but it doesn’t help.

Your hand taps the inside of his thigh, prompting him to spread and bend, and the movement sends his cock lolling onto his stomach. It makes him jolt and suck in a deep breath. He can tell you’re trying to ignore it. He wishes he could. 

And fuck, he hasn’t gotten off in like, a week and a half, caught up between traveling and getting whiskey dick at that party and leaving his Cialis at his friends with benefits’ apartment. 

He jolts every time you wax the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. And every time he jolts, his cockhead rubs against his now smooth stomach. His dick is drooling. 

When you get to the well groomed, thank you very much hair at the base of his dick, you have to wipe away the obscene amount of pre-cum that’s pooled there. 

“Sorry,” he breathes again. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, swiping the taut skin. 

It tugs on his dick. He whimpers. 

His knuckles are white now, gripping the edge of the table so hard he’s sure there will be permanent nail marks on the pleather. He’s biting his bottom lip, a metallic taste blooms inside his mouth. 

He’s lightheaded, between holding his breath and the fact that all his blood is in his dick, and his vision starts to tunnel a bit. Those tell-tale, fuzzy stars begin dancing around in the edges of his vision but promptly disappear when you grab his dick. 

The sound he makes is pitiful, a pathetic plea to his own body to stop betraying him. 

He chances a look down to see what you’re doing. One of your gloved hands holds his dick with just your thumb and forefinger, as professional as can be, while you spread wax across the wiry hairs just above it. 

He’s on the edge, his cock is jerking and pulsing between your two fingers, and if he can just make it past these next few minutes he can spill into his own hand as soon as you leave the room to let him dress. 

If only. 

You rip the wax from his skin, and it tugs on his cock and it hurts and it feels so fucking good. The pleasure shoots down his spine and he cries out a pathetic little whine. He’s barely able to push your hand away in time, breathing out an apology just as his prick jumps and releases a long, thick rope of cum. 

“I’m so sorry, fuck, s-sorry,” he pants. 

Tears prickle behind his eyeballs as he just keeps coming. There’s so much it’s almost comical, spraying the tender, reddened skin of his chest and belly.  You’re just staring too, completely emotionless, waiting for it to end so you can complete your job. 

Dieter whimpers again, biting his fist as he watches the last of his release dribble down his traitorous cock, then squeezes his eyes shut. A tear slips free, and he lets out a shuddering breath. This is the worst orgasm of his entire life, and that includes all the times he couldn’t help but rub one out with a UTI. 

You clear your throat, and you’re handing him a box of tissues. 

“I’ll let you clean yourself, then I’ll finish up.” 

He hears your impatient sigh as you leave the room.  Apparently Dieter Bravo can feel shame.

[magentasky234]

I remember when my phone broke, I had a shitty phone for a while whilst waiting for my new phone to arrive. So I used my 3DS to read Hardenshipping fanfiction.

[f0linasahl0]

i desperately want to create a book formatted version of the twenty one pilots lore. like it would be so fun and i have so much random information jumbled in my head about the lore and id love to write it. also id love to write it because ive seen people have issues piecing all the information together when learning all the lore information. so id love to write it in a format like this to make it easier though it would be more of a fanfiction personal opinion piece as even though i have information its probably not all accurate and the only person who knows all the details is tyler (well probably josh and mark but idk man.) i just think writing the lore into a book format would be so cool and i would kill to do it but i don't even know if it's worth it to create the fanfiction version if it bc if i get something wrong and they go to that to learn the story it would be sad i guess. i don't really know i am also just rambling bc i drank an energy drink too late in the day.

anyway to summarize i want to write the lore into a storybook format rather than just the videos bc it would be so fun. the biggest problem is the opinion/headcanon side of the lore and i don't know what's good or what's not when it comes to this. or what people would enjoy.

like all those issues wouldn't stop he from doing it, id 100% do it, just the biggest issue is my own brain. writers block and demotivation are things i fight all the time when writing and its such a big project that i don't even know how long it'd take to do it.

also the opinion part of it is so interesting bc that's where it branches off and becomes unique and id love to do it. and like sure mr. joseph is the only one that knows the extent to which the lore is supposed to be hit i think it'd be fun to create one of these days.

let me know if you're even interested because that would help me decide if i actually post it on something or not if i ever do it.

sorry for the long ass post it's really all just rambles but it's been something ive been thinking about doing for awhile. it'd have inaccuracies and would just be for fun, but id love to do it because of that. so again let me know.

thanks for reading this awfully long mess of ramble lmao. pls let me know

[mail-me-a-snail]

minutes of the meeting a control fic

“Dr. Darling,” Trench murmurs, “appears distracted.” Darling thins his lips. He’s anything but distracted, now; his eyes had held Trench’s the whole time the Director had been speaking. “You forgot a point,” he responds, carefully, at the same volume. “Did I.” “11:15am: Director Trench lights a cigarette.” A pause. “He looks Dr. Darling in the eye as he does it.” Trench considers this. He hums--the sound rumbles in the back of his throat. “So you were paying attention.” “To all the wrong things, maybe.” -- a trench/darling fic about the path that had been laid out for trench, 23 years in the making.

i haven't even finished this game but those two old men are haunting me. there is something deeply wrong with the both of them and i think they can only see that through the eyes of the other.

image descriptions and transcript under the cut

[id: the post contains two images of the same size. the first image has a light gray background. on the left side of the page, the words "federal bureau of control" are printed in bold, black letters. underneath it is "quarterly assessment" in the same style.

on the right side of the page is the logo of the federal bureau of control from the game control.

transcript begins:

10:30am: Meeting begins.

In attendance are Director Zachariah Trench, Dr. Casper Darling, alongside Helen Marshall and Alberto Tommasi. The meeting had been called to assess each department’s quarterly status.

10:45am: Tommasi releases an object of power into Dr. Darling’s care.

10:50am: After careful inspection, Dr. Darling remarks that the (here, the text is obscured by a black rectangle) may have power of its own, or it may be the power in question.

11:00am: Marshall, head of Operations, reports another venture into The Pit. Exact number of casualties is unknown, as the Mold had begun digestion immediately.

11:15; Director Trench lights a cigarette. He looks Dr. Darling in the eye as he does it.

11:20am: Director Trench then questions Dr. Darling about the entity, and the progress his department has made in containing it. 

Dr. Darling does not answer. Dr. Darling appears distracted.

11:30am: Break for lunch.

11:45am: Dr Darling sits in Director Trench’s office. He’s been thoroughly (another black rectangle censors the text).

on the bottom left of the image is the number 1, denoting the page number.

end transcript and id]

[id of page 2: the second image is the same shade of light gray as the first.

transcript begins:

12:00pm: Director Trench puts his cigarette out on Dr. Darling’s neck. Dr. Darling wishes he had done it sooner. 

12:05pm: Director Trench runs his (text is obscured) up the inside of Dr. Darling’s (text is obscured).

Dr. Darling lets him.

Dr. Darling reminds him they have 

the font changes to bigger, bolder text. the page's gray color turns white in a gradient. each sentence that follows is enclosed in angle brackets.

Twenty-five Minutes/Not Enough Time

to Themselves/To Enjoy

12:05pm: Director Trench  

The Push/the Pull

Synapses/Tendons

The Question/(text in red) The Answer

1:00pm:

Dot, Dot, Dot/...

The font returns to its original style.

Meeting adjourned.

end transcript and id]

[flowerbloom-arts]

It's late autumn and Snorkmaiden and Sniff agreed to a fake date for the purpose of making Moomintroll jealous and selling Sniff's newest product as he hasn't tapped into the romance market yet, but plans change as Sniff suddenly goes missing under mysterious circumstances. Now it is up to Snorkmaiden to team up with a totally random Fuzzy as they travel between land and sea in search for her kinda-sorta friend and conman.

-

IT'S FINALLY HERE!

[bleucaesura]

STOLITZØ - SEVENTY

The following morning, Blitzø sat on the couch wrapped in a big fluffy blanket. He watched as Stolas shuffled over in his robe and bunny slippers, with two mugs of coffee.

Blitzø unwrapped half the blanket and pat the cushion beside him. Stolas smiled warmly, handed Blitzø his mug and cozied up next to him. Blitzø draped the blanket around Stolas’s shoulders once he had settled.

Stolas grabbed the tv remote and started flipping through channels. Blitzø looked over at him lovingly. When Blitzø went to have a sip of coffee, he realized it was iced. He looked down at the cold drink in his mug, tears welling up unbidden.

F*cking birdbrain…

“Darling?” Stolas looked over at Blitzø. “Goodness! What’s the matter?!” Stolas clambered to get out of the blanket so he could turn to face Blitzø.

Blitzø calmly put his mug on the coffee table. He climbed on the couch and knelt in front of Stolas, putting the owl’s face between his palms and smooshing his cheeks until they fluffed in that adorable way Blitzø loved.

Blitzø smiled happily and gave Stolas a quick light kiss.

“Darling?” Stolas blushed.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Blitzø grinned happily through tears.

Stolas sniffled, tears springing up; he threw his arms around Blitzø and they fell back on the couch laughing, tangled in each other’s limbs, tails and the blanket.

The TV buzzed in the background.

“666 NEWS”

“I’m Katie Killjoy”

“And I’m Tom Trench”

“Ha. Ha. No one f*cking cares who you are, Tom!”

“On our show today we have a very special guest! That’s right! The big guy who put the big ‘O’ in Ozzie’s. The sexiest sin himself. The lustful leader, Asmodeus is in the studio with some scintillating updates on a new product to hit shelves later this month!”

The audience erupted in applause.

Blitzø and Stolas looked over at the TV.

“Welcome your majesty!” Katie clapped enthusiastically as she slid down the news desk to make room for Asmodeus, hip-checking Tom off his chair on her way over.

“Thank you, Katie.” Asmodeus leaned in front of and across Katie and extended a hand to Tom as he was pulling himself back up into his chair. “And great to see you, Tom! We still on for Friday?”

Katie was NOT impressed.

Blitzø had started drinking his coffee and almost shot it out his nose onto Stolas. He started to choke. Stolas thumped his back trying to help him breathe through his choking laughter.

They missed Katie’s next comment through Blitzø’s coughing and laughter.

“Thanks for having me this morning.” Asmodeus smiled his celebrity smile. “If I could be indulged a moment?”

The audience clapped.

“Before I get down to the… Nitty gritty,” Asmodeus winked at the camera and purred in a deep gravely voice. “There’s something more personal I’d like to touch on first.”

The camera focused on him completely.

“As many, if not all, of you know, Fizzarolli and I have gone public with our long term romantic relationship.”

The audience erupted with cheers and applause. Asmodeus smiled unabashedly and waited for the applause to die down.

“And while I embody the sin of Lust… I DO love Fizzarolli. Yes he and I are in a loving and monogamous relationship... Being in love doesn’t mean the lust disappears. I say it makes it deeper, and even more… Pleasurable.”

The sex absolutely oooooozed off of his words. The audience was rapt. Blitzø and Stolas looked at each other, blushing.

“But I digress.” Asmodeus chuckled, breaking the spell. “I’m here to say: I AM a hypocrite.”

The studio filled with gasps, whispers and confused chatter.

Katie, desperate to get back in frame, slid her face along the news desk until she was at Asmodeus’s elbow. “And why do you say THAT, your Highness?”

Asmodeus casually pushed Katie’s face out of frame and continued, unfazed.

“I embarrassed a fellow Royal, and friend, at my club when I called out his relationship with an imp. I was wrong to do so. Not JUST because I hurt a friend.” Asmodeus’s demon flames grew. “But because I don’t AT ALL believe in this elitist BULLSH*T division of classes.” The lights all but went out in the studio as Asmodeus’s flames erupted.

A second later, it was as if a switch had been flipped and Asmodeus was back to his charismatic, charming self.

“So! Prince Stolas? Blitzø?… Owner of ‘I.M.P.’” Asmodeus winked and said conspiratorially behind a hand to the camera.

“I’m truly sorry. And my blessings to you both!”

The studio was silent for mere seconds before the audience erupted in applause and chaotic conversations.

“What…”

“The…”

“Actual…”

“F*CK!”

Blitzø and Stolas traded expletives while starring unblinking and agape at the tv.

“Now!” Asmodeus rubbed his hands together, excitedly. “Who wants to hear about my revolutionary new vibrator coming out next month?!”

Tom raised his hand and nodded enthusiastically.

Katie stomped off set screaming into a phone.

Blitzø turned off the tv.

“Did that just f*cking happen? Or was I f*cking hallucinating again?” Blitzø stared wide-eyed at the screen.

“It happened,” Stolas said just above a whisper.

They looked at each other.

Blitzø threw himself at Stolas, burying his face in his chest feathers.

Stolas fell back, surprised. He hugged Blitzø to him.

Blitzø nuzzled Stolas and hugged him back.

“Is… Is this ok?” Stolas stammered.

“Eez comfy” Blitzø mumbled from his snuggle spot.

Stolas chuckled. He stroked Blitzø’s horns affectionately, feeling somber.

“No… I meant…” Stolas paused, unsure what to say.

“Is WHAT ok?” Blitzø looked up at him.

“That,” Stolas looked toward the tv. “All of Hell knowing…”

“F*ck yeah!”

Stolas was startled. Blitzø grinned at him. His eyes shone.

“Free f*cking I.M.P advertising from Asmodeus on the 666 News?! F*ck YES!” Blitzø pumped his fist and laughed maniacally.

Stolas stared flatly back at him. He hoped he had his best ‘What-The-Actual-F*CK’ face on.

Blitzø grinned at him and burst out laughing. He grabbed Stolas in a tight hug and nuzzled his neck.

“Stolas, you birdbrain…” Blitzø whispered. “I want the whole f*cking universe to know you’re mine.”

*****

[cspcrashing]

ichigo is learning the highs and lows of co-habiting with a sharp-toothed arrancar

[ronearoundblindly]

🥴🫠😵‍💫 New earworm, whoops.

Pirate!Jake the undercover male stripper, working at The Thirst Trap where you bartend, needing encouragement to get down with his dirty self on-stage and maybe some extra practice for lap dancing...

ohhhhhhhhhhh boy, gang.

👜Anon has struck again...

[plutoswritingplanet]

Me, six chapters into writing a strictly Ben Linus oriented fic: Fck I love Sayid...

[buckymilf]

time to say the truth:

it's practically impossible to happily ship any queer pairing of characters from the mcu because marvel will always find a way to destroy it after baiting the fans and making everything the most boring heteronormative possible.

[bloomingdarkgarden]

Comin outta my cage to write harder than ive ever written before.

Nolite te Bastardes Carborundorum, bitches.

Don't let the fanfiction bastards keep you down.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

For you - Tyler Joseph x Reader

Relationship: Tyler Joseph x Reader

Warnings: angst and cliffhanger ending, tyler crying :(

Word Count: 1710

Summary: A few weeks after graduating high school you break the news to your best friend Tyler that you're leaving Columbus.

Summer 2006

Tyler and I had been friends since we were six, and nothing ever changed between us. It had been two weeks since we’d graduated high school, and we’d decided to go on a road trip. While most of our friends had already chosen which colleges they wanted to attend, neither Tyler nor I had made a final decision yet—except I’d just made mine that morning.

We’d parked our car at the entrance to a forest about an hour from Columbus and walked into the greenery. It was a warm day, so I was wearing a t-shirt I’d gotten on a Disney World trip with Tyler and my family, and he was wearing a black muscle shirt that showed off the tattoos he’d gotten the day we graduated, the ink still vibrant.

“I still can’t believe you got those,” I laughed, closing the car door.

“I still can’t believe my mom didn’t kill me the second she saw them,” he quipped, leading the way to the trail. “Have you thought much about what you’re going to do now that we’re done with school?”

I knew he was going to ask that question. I’d deliberately chosen not to tell him when I saw him that morning. When he realized I wasn’t answering, he turned around and looked at me, giving me a look that screamed, “I can read your mind.” His hair was short, initially buzzed to keep it out of his face for basketball, but it had grown out since. I looked into his eyes, which compelled me to tell him everything; the look on his face begged, “Please.”

“Come on, Ty. We don’t need to talk about that right now,” I muttered and continued to walk on until he grabbed my hand.

“Don’t hide things from me, Y/N. We don’t do that,” he said. I pulled my hand out of his grip and let out a loud sigh. He had a point. I’d never kept a secret from Tyler, and when I did have one, he was the first person I told. We were always vulnerable with each other, too. Whenever he was struggling, he’d come and talk to me. He’d even share his music with me despite feeling embarrassed about it because he was ‘supposed to be a jock.’

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

He laughed at that. “How on earth would you hurt me? It’s not like you’re leaving, right?” I didn’t say anything. I stood there staring at him with a saddened look on my face, which seemed to be contagious. “It’s not like you’re leaving, right?” he repeated.

“Tyler…” I reached out to him, but he moved away. My worst fear had come true. He hated me.

“You promised me… you said you’d always be here for me, Y/N. You know I need you!” His eyes quickly turned glossy with tears welling up. I had promised that. But I also knew that I couldn’t always be there for him.

“I only got into one school, Ty! What else am I supposed to do? You know I want to do film,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

“You’re supposed to stay in Columbus with me!” he shouted back, two tears running down his face.

“It’s gonna to be okay, Tyler,” I moved closer to him, and the tears started pouring down his face, prompting me to bring him into a tight embrace. He started sobbing, bringing the reality of how much I meant to him to the front of my mind. I really hadn’t thought we were that close. He pulled away slightly from me and looked desperately into my eyes, his hands coming up and cupping my face in the most intimate way he’d ever treated me.

“I need you, Y/N. Don’t leave me alone.” I leant my forehead against his, my right hand cupping the back of his head.

“I’m sorry, Ty,” I whispered, closing my eyes. This was the moment he decided to press his lips to mine in a quick kiss, the saltiness of his tears bringing a depression to an otherwise desperate attempt to make me his. His lips were softer than I had expected them to be. I’d known Tyler through both of his high school girlfriends, and he’d never treated any of them like this before. I pulled away from the kiss, my eyes searching for some kind of explanation.

“Stay with me. I love you,” he pleaded.

“You know I can’t,” I responded, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you too.”

We spent the rest of the day walking through the forest and talking about the future. I’d decided to move to California and attend UCLA’s Film School on an arts scholarship. He still didn’t know what to do now that school was over; basketball was his life in school, but he didn’t want to keep doing it forever. We’d ultimately decided to make the most of the summer and make memories while we could, which resulted in a summer romance between us—the very thing I least expected when I’d woken up that morning.

The day I left for California was hard on Tyler, but I’d made sure to prepare him.

“Are you sure you have to go?” he asked, sitting on my bed while I packed my bags.

“You already know the answer to that. But you know we’ll text every day,” I looked up at him. We’d agreed to end the relationship when I left; four years on the other side of the country would make a serious relationship between us impossible, and we didn’t want to break up on bad terms. “Hey, don’t you have that music thing next week?” Tyler had met some people over the summer who were in local bands and had started attending gigs on the weekends.

“Yeah, but I’ll be too depressed missing you to write anything at the damn workshop,” he’d now rolled over onto his back and was looking at me upside down off the edge of the bed. We both knew that every second we had would be our last, and it was bringing the feeling in the room down.

“I’m proud of you, Ty. You know that, right?” He rolled back onto his stomach and jumped up in front of me.

“Yeah, I know, babe,” he used the one nickname I’d earned over the summer. He was the only one to ever call me that, and I loved him for it.

“I mean it. You’re going places.” I smiled up at him before pulling him in for a final hug. He pressed a kiss to my right temple before whispering, “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“I love you,” I whispered back before pulling away to grab my suitcase and getting into my car. “Text me every day, Ty, and never ever stop dreaming.”

Summer 2012

I hadn’t spoken to Tyler in three years. He stopped texting me as we both got busier with school and work. The last I’d heard from him, he had formed a band with two of his community college friends, but in a call from my mom, she had told me it wasn’t working out. Other than the occasional call with my mom, I had no idea what was going on back home. For the last few years, I’d worked in the film industry as both a writer and director for short films, but no big projects had come out of it. I was sitting in my apartment eating breakfast on my first Saturday off in a month, ironically scrolling through my emails. Everything was from producers, except for one email from an address I was unfamiliar with: “Reel Bear Media.” I laughed at the film pun before opening the email addressed to “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Dear Y/N Y/L/N,

My name is Mark. You don’t know me, but I’ve heard a lot about you from one of my clients. I’m well aware that you’re currently based in Los Angeles, California, but I have a work opportunity I’d like to offer you. I currently work as a content producer for an Ohio band with a small but rapidly growing fan base. I’d like to offer you the job (at the request of the front man) as a touring videographer for the band ‘Twenty One Pilots.’ I’ve attached my contact information and some of my photos if you’re interested.

I look forward to hearing from you,

Mark Eshleman”

I scrolled down to look at the attached photo file to come face to face with the boy—now man—I hadn’t seen in around six years.

He’d finally done it. Tyler had finally had the opportunity to make his music. He’d met someone–who I was sure he got along well with–who could truly help him succeed. I pulled out my phone and dialled the saved number I had for Tyler, praying that he hadn’t changed his it. It rang once, twice, I looked at the clock to make sure the time zones were right, three times. 

“Hello?”

“Tyler?” I crossed my fingers, hoping it was him. 

“Hi Y/N. It’s been a long time hasn’t it?” the sound of his voice had changed, deeper than the last time I’d heard it. I could hear the sound of his smirk, confidence sounded good on him. 

“I got the email from Mark. I can’t believe you remembered I did film, let alone even thought of me,” I spoke, the tone of surprise very clearly sounding through the phone. I could hear his laugh come through the speaker. 

“Of course I thought of you. There’s very little I wouldn’t do for you baby,” I grinned hearing the nickname for the first time since I left, “I take it you’re coming then?” I nodded, knowing he can’t see me at all but knew exactly what I’m doing. “Flights are booked then. Be at LAX at 12pm and Josh and I will be at the airport in Columbus as soon as you land.” I couldn’t believe he had the power to book plane tickets that quickly and pick exactly who he wanted as part of his project. 

“I'm so excited to see you! I just know Josh is gonna love you,” he spoke.

“Sorry, who’s Josh?”

//

A/N: I really really loved writing this one. It went from something I wasn't too sure about into something super cute ngl. I'll probably write a part two if people want it so make sure to either request it in the question box or comment below if you're keen. Also, please don't repost my writing onto other platforms because I do work hard to come up with these stories!

Thanks for reading <3

[moved-to-the-hype-on-tv]

if i write a trench fic would y'all read