#unloading their bullshit onto me

[karomiiz]

first crying session before finals~

[alatar-and-pallando]

You learn so much about your friends while shooting the shit around a campfire together...

Apparently, when my pal Dan lived in New Jersey, he drove an ice cream truck. For the mafia. For context: If anyone else told that tale, I’d immediately call bullshit. But Dan’s a really straightforward, guy -- and he’s lived a pretty interesting life in general, including a stint as a wilderness tour guide in Alaska. 

 Incidentally, he also looks like the perfect ice cream man man: he has this eye-wrinkling smile and cheery red cheeks, and you can absolutely picture him wearing a paper hat at a jaunty angle.

That this company was run by the mafia wasn’t explicit, but was pretty obvious. His boss had the most Italian-ass first name -- “He wasn’t interested in telling me his last name, and I don’t know if he knew mine,” Dan said -- and was the only one allowed in the large freezer trailer where the inventory was stored. Dan said he assumed there were bodies in there.

Said truck was stored in the middle of a junkyard, which was guarded by Rottweilers at night. If you happened to still be in there when they were released, you'd have to climb on top of your truck and play "the floor is lava and the lava is angry dogs" til you got to the building that fronted the road.

The other two main factions were the Saudi Arabians and a single large Greek woman. "She was mean enough to hold her own," Dan said. 

These factions had divvied up the local parks and ball fields and so on, which Dan learned the hard way. "But nobody owned the streets."

IHOP was neutral territory. If you parked your truck there, it signaled to the other factions that you wanted to parlay. 

Once, near the time school got out, Dan was plying his trade toward the end of a long cul-de-sac -- the signature bells of his company playing over the PA system -- when he heard “Turkey in the Straw” getting closer. One of the Saudis turned onto the cul-de-sac, heading slowly towards him. To escape, he’d have to drive right past him. 

And then, as he was getting ready to gun it: “Do your ears hang low” approached. It was the Greek lady, turning into the same cul-de-sac. Suddenly he was in a three-way stand-off. 

And then, to top it all off, the school bus pulled in and began unloading kids. 

As Dan watched in horror, the Greek lady parked her truck and, marched over to the Saudi guy’s truck, cursing loudly.

And then -- before the horrified eyes of the children, in the din of competing ice cream truck speaker systems -- she REACHED into his open window, pulled him halfway through it by his hair with one hand, and started pummeling him with the other. 

Dan beat a hasty retreat. He later heard through the ice cream man grapevine that the cops were called and the Greek lady ended up being sent back to Greece.

[danksy-ns]

Zay and Ren reconciliation :

> full scene written under the "keep reading" button !

> The scene is written in collaboration with the amazing @turtldogladee !

> It's been 1 year and a little more since they last saw each other, when Ren broke up with Zay. The turtle still doesn't know to this day why it happened. Zay tried to move on but still feels hurt.

> The scene happens a while after he lost his leg, he now walks properly with his prosthetic leg. At this moment, he was running errands for Donnie in the hidden city.

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Zay moved to the door, but found a familiar face in his way. He stopped short and stepped back, as if to verify he was really seeing him.

“Hey, Zay.” Ren waved at him awkwardly, and even dared to smile. Zay’s insides twisted. He thought about pushing Ren out of his way, but quelled the urge. He didn’t like that it came from a place not rooted in anger.

He didn’t want to admit he still felt hurt.

It must have shown on his face, since Ren dropped both stupid gestures and turned solemn. “Yeah, I-I get that…You got a minute?”

“For what?” Zay asked. After the last minute he was asked for, he didn’t feel keen about giving another one to Ren ever again.

“To talk.” Ren’s ear twitched and he palmed the back of his neck, staring to the left, up, down, obviously avoiding eye contact. Zay hesitated. What did Ren have to be nervous about?

“Please, Zay?”

“Fine. One minute.” Zay relented, despite all the clamoring in his head to tell Ren off like the misspelled tattoo of a man he was.

And so there he was, sitting on a cold park bench, miserably waiting to hear what he had no reason to expect would be an apology. Maybe he hated himself. Why else would he have agreed? Because he was stupid. Desperate.

And Ren still hadn’t said anything! Why?!

Zay’s heart pumped so hard with anxiety, he thought he might hack it up right there onto the sidewalk. This was so, so incredibly stupid. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to hear what else Ren had to say.

“I’m really sorry for how things went down, Zay, truly.” 

Zay laughed and snapped his teeth together to silence it, scaring even himself with how manic it sounded. “The fuck you are.” The fuck he was. If he was sorry, then where was he for the last year and change? Where was the sorry he needed to hear when he was crying his heart out alone in his bed, hiding the noise in his hands so his brothers didn’t hear, tearing himself apart in search of the flaw that made him unwanted?

He craved that sorry. Now that he had it, he wanted to break it over his knee and throw it away. “What’s your next line? I deserve someone better? Thanks, but the people who actually care about me have already let me know." 

“You do deserve someone better !” 

Zay was on his feet. And shouting. Embarrassing. “Well, maybe I don’t give a shit! Maybe I just wanted you!”

He shook with it, the intense emotions that leaked out despite all his white knuckled effort to keep them in, summoned by Ren’s godforsaken presence. He looked at Zay with the gentlest eyes and most sincerely guilty gaze, still sitting on the bench. “I wanted you, too.” Ren said and Zay stepped back. 

Is he toying with me ? 

Zay balled his hands up into fists but willed them to stay at his sides, docile. He had agreed to talk. “Then why?” 

“I couldn’t stay with you.”

“That’s not an answer! You know what? I’m out. I don’t need more of your bullshit clogging up my life.”

Ren stood up. “Zay, wait!” 

“No! I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!” 

Zay turned away but something tugged him back. He looked down. 

Ren was holding his wrist. 

Zay’s skin prickled all the way up his arm. Exhilaration flooded him. 

He missed Ren’s touch. 

Disgust oozed around his hand. 

He shouldn’t have missed it. 

Outrage burned behind his eyes. 

How dare he. 

Zay leaned back against it and got ready to break free and unload everything, but Ren opened his fat, stupid mouth and blurted out, “I was trying to protect you !” 

Ren got lucky. He found one of the few phrases to cut through the red haze. “You have ten seconds to elaborate.”

“Big Mama was gunning for you. She wanted me to help her. She was gonna use me, but I wasn’t gonna let her do that.”

“What?” He blanked on anything else to say. So many reasons had plagued him: his past, his personality, his appearance but never that. He never thought Ren would’ve been motivated by… 

Ren’s voice pulled him out of the spiral. “She knew we were together. She was just waiting for a chance to use it to her advantage, and when you left the Nexus, she tried to make me— I mean, she wanted me to…”

Zay twisted his hand until he could get a grip on Ren’s and pulled until the distance between them was closed and Ren had to look him in the eyes now. 

Ren ducked his head to not loom. He looked so beaten down. Zay reached up and brushed his hand against Ren’s cheek, his heart twisting when his ex just leaned into it so openly. “Did she hurt you?” He asked, scared of the answer. 

“No,” Ren murmured and covered Zay’s hand with his own. Now he’s got both, so Zay was stuck but he didn’t feel like that was a reason to panic. “She threw a tantrum, made some threats but nothin’ came of it.”

“Oh, I doubt that’s all she did! If she hurt you—“ 

“Once she knew you weren’t coming back for me, she gave up. I’m okay. Really.” 

“I thought you were the world’s biggest jerk this whole time,” Zay’s throat felt dangerously tight with some kind of feeling. Ren took both of his hands and held them, like they were something sacred, and hovered close, their foreheads a breath away from touching. “Why didn’t you say something, Ren?”

“And unleash the beast on her? You’re amazing, Zay, but her- she’s terrifying and she would’ve put you in a cage the second you set foot in the hotel. I couldn’t let a confrontation happen.”

Zay's chest compresses at the way Ren’s voice hushed around the word terrifying. 

Ren started to ramble. Zay could feel him shaking, all the way down to his hands. “You took too much from her. She wanted to take everything from you. You would’ve ended up in the Nexus or worse until—“ 

Ren went quiet, like saying it out loud was too much, too real, too close. 

He spoke in barely a whisper next. “I panicked. And— and I hurt you. I knew if I did, you’d stay away and without me around, you’d be safe. You’ve been through enough already.”

If you only knew. 

If you’d been there,you’d know. 

He couldn’t undo so much hurt over so much time in a one minute conversation. 

Zay stepped back and slumped onto the bench, right where he’d started. He felt stuck. His head was clogged up with starchy cotton. Dark thoughts brewed. 

If Ren was protecting him, who was protecting Ren? 

Not me. 

Failure tasted like metal. 

Idiot. Stupid, useless fucking loser, he needed you !

“Zay?” 

Zay grunted, choked on the internal vomit his brain was retching up all over the metaphorical carpet. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You said that.” 

“I mean it. I’m sor—“ 

“I forgive you, now stop.” 

“Do you?” Ren asked and the tender concern in his voice, god dammit, it sank deep into Zay’s soul and his throat slammed shut and his eyes burned. 

“Ye-ah.” He said and cringed inwardly at how deafening the break in his voice was. “I blame Big Mama. Not you, Ren.” 

“It’s nice to hear you say my name and not be upset with me,” Ren smiled and held Zay’s hand a little tighter, and a little closer, like he was thinking about getting cozier. 

“Who says I’m not still upset?” Zay asked hoarsely, only half serious. He ignored the traitorous, warm tears slipping down his cheeks without control. “Do I look upset?”

“You look like you need a hug.”

Faint cedar, something sweet, something familiar finding its way home after too long. Zay hauled in a deep breath and every sob he tried to choke back flooded out against Ren’s shoulder. 

Ren hugged him tighter, and Zay held onto him ruthlessly, projecting all his will out to the universe that this wasn’t going to be a last hug. He missed Ren so much that his skin ached with it. Then the bastard moved his hand and cradled Zay’s cheek and the ache fled into the ether. He melted. He absolutely, thoroughly, hopelessly happily melted. 

Ren laughed, like he knew exactly what was up. 

They didn’t budge for an undetermined amount of time. They weren’t counting the seconds; they didn’t care to. They stayed for as long as they wanted, and it was left at that. 

“Ren,” Zay muttered, idly petting his thumb over the ivory spot pattern above Ren’s jugular. 

“Mhm?” Ren leaned back enough to look at Zay and they locked, sharing the air between their breaths, seeing the same thought in the others eyes. What follows a hug? 

Zay’s phone chimed loudly and jolted them both out of it. 

“Is that important?”

“It better not me.” Zay growled and checked his phone. “It’s not.” Fucking Leo. “No, don’t— ugh.” And Leo was calling him now. 

“Dude,” Zay said when he answered. “Crazy people wait longer to call after an unanswered text.” 

“Where’re you at ?”

“The Hidden City. Is there a reason you’re calling?”

“Grumpy gus–”

“Leo,” Zay said warningly, hinting at him to get to the point.

“We were just wondering what the hold up is. Also, Donnie wants his stuff. Everything all good ?”

Zay had a feeling Donnie was standing right there asking about it, too. He looked at Ren and mouthed sorry at him. Ren gestured like he was asking if he should go. Zay quickly grabbed the front of his flannel to keep him in place. “Everything’s great, just don’t call me for, like, half an hour.”

Ren huffed.

“Two hours. I’ll be back home before Donnie starts climbing the walls.”

“Two hours?! Zay, are you sure you’re okay? I can meet you. Super reliable, remember ?”

“No!” Zay said far too quickly. Ren muttered smooth and Zay elbowed him to shush. “I just had something unexpected come up. I’m a big boy, I can handle it, so you can relax.”

“I’m just thinking about if something happens and you’re alone…”

“One, thank you for worrying about me, Dad.”

“Ewwwwuh.”

“Two, I’m not alone.”

Ren took his hand and Zay swore he felt like a warm sunbeam just opened up above him. “I’ll see you soon. Bye.” and hung up before Leo could cram another word in. “Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay. He sounded worried about you.”

“Ugh, I swear, he’s one step away from cutting up my hot dogs for me. He means well, though. Do you think I should get him a cat or something?”

“A purse dog should fill the void. So. We got two hours before your curfew. What do you wanna do?”

“I don’t care, I just wanna make you pay for it and it’s gotta be somewhere inside because it is fucking freezing.”

In two seconds, Ren shucked off his jacket, dumped it on Zay’s shoulders, and excitedly led him towards the nearest source of hot drinks, joined by the hand.

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[storiesbyrhi]

🧚 🧚🏽‍♀️ 🧚‍♂️

i would love to hear about this fairy fic 🖤

It's only 700 words or so. I had this idea that Eddie, after everything that happened, moved to the city. But his time in the Upside Down left him magically marked. This gets the attention of the secret fairy living in his apartment block.

It's part magic realism (you know me) and part some weird size kink bullshit hehe.

I have a lot of thoughts and ideas, but haven't really decided how thw story is going to go. However, I am happy to share what I have! Unedited and very likely to change.

Love youuuuuuuuuuu.

Eddie Munson tried to not think of leaving Hawkins as running away. He had sworn to himself, standing against a tornado of demobats, that he was never going to do that again. No, Eddie would be brave in the face of danger. There was no battle he couldn’t fight. No enemy to send him cowering in the corner. But Hawkins… Hawkins wasn’t just any monster.

Hawkins had thousands of eyes, all peering at Eddie whenever he ventured further than the trailer. Her mouth could speak in an endless number of different voices, all whispering about cults and murder and Chrissy Cunningham’s body. She had power too, Hawkins, power enough to stop Eddie from getting work after he graduated from his hospital bed. She had him frozen in time and place.

Eddie didn’t know how many more days of fight he had in him, but a kind twist of fate offered Eddie an escape plan in the form of his sweet friend Jeff. A plan in which Eddie could play the hero, rather than the deserter.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, man!” Jeff paced back in forth in front of Eddie. “Everything was all set up but I can’t pay rent on my own. My dad says to put a notice in the paper but even that costs money… And I don’t want to live with a stranger! What if they’re like… an axe murderer!”

It was refreshing to hear about someone’s normal problems. It seemed a lot easier than working out how to communicate cross-dimensionally or where the hell Nancy Wheeler’s missing guns went.

“I’m sorry, dude,” Jeff apologised. “I shouldn’t complain to you,”

“Why?” Eddie fished.

Jeff hesitated. “Well… You know…”

“Because I was accused of murder, attacked by wild dogs, and almost killed in an earthquake?” Eddie was obviously being sarcastic, but it still made Jeff wince.

“…Yes?”

Eddie laughed, shocked that people had really bought ‘attacked by wild dogs’ … but they needed some sort of cover story for the bite marks. Despite his best efforts, Eddie couldn’t even make himself the hero of that adventure. Goddamn Steve Harrington had saved him from the rabid pack, earning himself some matching battle wounds.

“It’s cool,” Eddie reassured his friend.

The pair sat and watched whatever shit was on television for a little while longer. When the idea popped into Eddie’s head, he sat up straight from his lounging position, moving quickly enough to startle Jeff.

“Jesus!”

“I have an idea,” Eddie announced. “What if I come with you? Take the room? Nobody knows me there. I can get a job. Actually leave the fucking house. You don’t have to live with stranger. We can still jam… It’s a good idea, right?”

“You really want to move to Chicago?”

“I mean… S’not like I have grand plans in Hawkins. This town fucking hates me… I’d miss Wayne but… Yeah… Yeah, I wanna move to Chicago… If you’ll have me.” Eddie grinned at his friend, the wide smile full of fun that Jeff hadn’t really seen since before everything went down.

“Eddie Munson. My hero.”

…

It was a dark magic. It was cold. Lonely. And there was only a whisper of it, thankfully, but it was there. From your window, you watched him unload a U-Haul onto the sidewalk. A group of people were moving boxes and furniture into the building; the noise followed them to the second floor, to the vacant apartment across from yours.

The magic was only coming from him. All his friends were unremarkable, just a mismatched crew of boisterous boys. None were scarred like him either. Even from your window, you could see the pink ripples of scar tissue on his face, neck, and arms. The war must have been recent, you decided, the pink fresh and his movements stunted by discomfort and pain.

“Eddie, dude, you’re not meant to be lifting the heavy ones,” his friend yelled, coming to take the box away from him.

“I’m fine,”

“Whatever. I don’t wanna scoop ya guts up when you pop a fuckin’ stitch, man.” The imagery was strong and it forced a smile on your lips. He was loved, the boy with the scars, despite the dark magic.

…

 It only took Eddie a week to realise something was happening.

[deerlottie]

gun fucking with nat oughh 😵‍💫😵‍💫 thinking of nat with reader in the wilderness, forced to hunt together because reader was jealous of travis and nat so she practically avoids nat like the plague to the point where she wouldnt talk to her

during the whole hunt reader would just be making backhanded remarks up to the point where nat would get so annoyed she pins her against a tree, fed up with reader and she'd just ask, "what's your fuckin problem, huh?"

reader just stares at her, stunned but kinda turned on cause nat was undeniably hot when shes mad and she notices it. "oh you wanted this didn't you? hm? you little shit." she speaks in that raspy voice of hers and she nearly strips you naked and pulls her gun out, it was unloaded and you both knew that. "since you wanted to ignore me, I'll fuck your brains out till you pay attention to me."

she forces her leg between readers thighs just to get her wet enough before inserting the barrel of the gun in her cunt. the stretch is just almost too much and reader cries out in pleasure as nat just pumps the barrel in and out, degrading them until they finally cum, slumping down onto the dirty ass ground as nat chuckles.

u say something along the lines of "im sure you'd be enjoying urself if travis was here instead." and nat just gets fed up with your bullshit, waving the gun at you before pushing you up against the tree :3 u curl in on yourself at how rough she is, but she heard your little whimper. shoving the gun to your chest before forcefully tugging down your pants and underwear and grinds her leg on ur pussy :(

maybe even rubbing the barrel of the gun against ur clit as she marks ur neck up before shoving it inside >__< she'd get off on how you say its too painful and that you need time to adjust but she just can't help herself :( ur little moans of pain/pleasure are everything to her as she watches ur little pussy being stretched out by the gun. goddd u cumming so much that your cream is dripping down the barrel...maybe even nat licking it up........ :3

[heyidkyay]

I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Eighteen

A/n: Hey, this part is a lot tbh, lots of emotions!! But we're also at like 75k words now and this was meant to be a one parter...?? I'm spiralling but I'm also so invested in this fucking plot. Hope you enjoy!:)

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: a few changes in pov! Lots of swearing but if you're reading this fic then you should be used to it by now.. um, arguments, tears too.. not sure what else:/

Masterlist

--

(Continuing on with Ross’s pov!)

—ROSS’S POV—

“Dickhead’s here!”

Ross made a face at the welcome received as he made his way through the front door- hadn’t even been here a full minute and yet Matty was already being a prick. Though it was to be expected, sort of like turning up to one of those fancy fuck-off restaurants knowing you’d only be leaving more hungry. What the fuck was it with them and those tiny portions?

He shook away the thought before it could start to piss him off and footed the door closed behind him, honing in on his best mate who was stood leaning against the wall, typing away on his mobile.

“Well, hello to you too, knob-face.” Ross huffed as he moved past Matty to make his way into the kitchen. “Always love spending time with you and your phone, mate.” He mocked and dropped the carrier bags he’d brought in with him on the counter.

Matty gave an impish smile as he slid in right behind him and Ross gave his choice of clothes a quick once over, deeming that he was probably headed out on the pull tonight.

“Sorry, was just texting Y/n. Said you were here.”

Ross paused from where he’d made a start on unloading the shop to frown over at him, “Didn’t you just do that?”

With a careless shrug, Matty jumped up onto the counter and started riffling through the contents too. “Easier. Sometimes she’ll hear me but can’t make out what I’ve said. Other times it's… a whole thing.” He shrugged again, giving a pack of biscuits the eye, “First few days I thought she was in a right strop with me, ignoring me and crap. But nope, just didn’t hear. Oi, where’d you find mini-eggs this time of year anyway?”

“None of your business.” Ross quipped, quick to snatch the Easter treats back before the nosy rat-faced prat could open them up, then went on, “Is it really that bad then?”

“What, with her hearing?” At his nod, Matty mimicked the gesture, only a little more avidly, and continued with his reply, “Yeah, mate. Been worrying over it for a while, enough to speak to the doctor’s about it at her last appointment, but even they keep spouting shite about time and telling.” He rolled his eyes then grabbed at one of the many chocolates that’d been haphazardly added to his shopping basket before Ross could even blink.

He narrowed his eyes at the blatant theft whilst Matty merely grinned at him from his perch and begun munching away.

“Wanker.” Ross muttered before he carried on with the unloading, actively making sure to place all the good stuff out of the shorter man’s reach. “Anyway, figured we’d do a movie night or just get plastered like we usually do-”

Matty cut him off rather promptly with a heavy hand to the shoulder, Ross stopped and glanced between his mate and the opposing limb. Matty’s eyes widened briefly before he hastily pulled away, only to then scuttle his entire body a little closer. The curly headed freak tossed a fretful look over his shoulder out towards the hallway whilst Ross just simply stared at him. 

“No alcohol.”

Ross blinked at the nutter.

“No alcohol?”

Matty nodded solemnly. “Sorry, mate, no alcohol. Doctors orders. She can’t mix it with all the medication she’s on.”

With a scoff, Ross shook his head. “That’s bullshit. What’s she even on- pain killers?”

“Nah, diuretics or some shit like it, alcohol will only counter them they say. Looked it up.” Matty informed him as he fiddled with the empty wrapper he now held. “That and these other ones she has to take for the dizziness and balancing shit she’s been going through. Vertigo or, I don’t know. We reckon it’s down to her hearing though, not the head injury. Which is the only good thing about it.”

With a wave of his hand, Matty pulled away again and Ross had to take a moment to really look at his mate. The same bloke who’d spent most of his life looking for the next best buzz, for only the fun and fruitful times, who’d wasted so many of his years on the edge of almost nearly killing himself. This was not the same person he was currently stood with.

No, this Matty knew all the odd bits of information about medication he wasn’t even on. Who looked so sincere in his warnings, in his understanding of the things he’d gone out of his way to research. This Matty was the same Matty that’d camped out in a hospital waiting room for hours on end, and then stayed for days, weeks. Who hadn’t left even after threats and arguments. Who’d waited with agonising patience during his best friend’s emergency surgery, who’d been there when she’d seized and coded, sat there through her comatose state, paced in waiting rooms and hallways before he could even get to her bedside.

This Matty cared. 

Not to say that Matty had never cared. No because that just wasn’t true. When you were one of his people, Matty cared so much it was honestly a struggle to try and match his affection. He loved and gave like no other. But he could also tend to be selfish. As most could be, sure. But Matty wasn’t the type to mind it, it was the same with his arrogance, his ego, his in your face charisma, too. Sometimes he just didn’t care who suffered as long as he was riding high.

Ross blinked out of his musings when Matty nudged his arm in silent warning, completely unaware of his inner thoughts, and gave him a stern look. Ross frowned down at the action, confused, but it all made sense when he heard a soft scuttle coming down the stairs.

“Not another word about this, yeah? And hide the fucking alcohol.” Matty whispered waspishly, already moving to hide the liquor bottles that’d been placed on the countertop into one of those seamless cupboards he had under the sink.

Swallowing, Ross fought to clear his heavy head and plastered on a grin when the woman he’d been waiting on finally walked through the door. 

—

I halted in the kitchen’s doorway to find Ross surrounded by a very large variety of food and snacks, whilst Matty was faffing about with a couple of glasses in the sink. I snorted at the very sight. 

“Are you actually washing up?” I asked him, bewildered and in utter disbelief. “In all the time I’ve been here- actually scrap that. In all the time I’ve known you, not once have I ever seen you wash up.”

I was met with a playful scowl from the man himself when he pivoted to face me. “Yeah, yeah. Keep on laughing it up, but I do know how to do some basic tasks, darling.”

With a sarcastic hum, I simply nodded. “Sure, Matty. You also speak Cantonese and can deep sea dive too.”

Ross’s sharp bark of laughter filled the room and a gasp from me quickly followed it when Matty flicked a round of soap duds in my direction. 

“Careful, Healy.” I warned him with a finger pointed his way. “Keep at it and I’ll have to ruin that swanky new outfit you’re trying to pull off.”

“Trying?”

“Swanky?”

Both Matty and Ross replied at the same time and I simply shrugged them off before I made my way over to where the bearded giant stood. I stared up at him until he finally glanced back down at me, then motioned towards the countertop with a jerk of my head. Ross raised an eyebrow in retort and so I countered him, raising both of my own.

He relented with a mere sigh and a roll of his eyes, but was rather careful when he did finally lift me up by my hips and onto the side, delicately dropping me just outside the mountain of chocolates he’d since created.

“Ta.” I smiled at him, patting his arm twice before I peered over at the buffet he’d brought along with him, simultaneously ignoring the unsubtle look the two men shared over my head. “What’s all this then?” I quizzed him.

“Movie night.” Was what Ross answered with.

“Movie night?”

“Yeah, movie night. As in a night, where you watch a bunch of films in a row, whilst engorging yourself on a shit ton of crappy food.” Ross slowly told me in a sarcastic tone, “I mean, we can order in if you’d prefer but I spent ages picking this lot out, you know. This one oldie working in Tesco’s kept giving me the evil eye too, reckon she thought I was gonna nick a couple crisp packets or something. As if I fucking would.”

“What ‘cause you’re such a sweetheart?” I replied, fluttering my lashes up at him mockingly.

“Nah, ‘cause I’d be caught before I could get far enough.” He quipped right back. 

“Too fucking tall not to be spotted, innit?” Matty added with a slow nod of his head before Ross followed in agreement, my forehead pinched when I saw that the former had just bitten into a Double Decker of ours.

“Oi, those aren’t for you!” I chided, throwing one of the many Snickers provided at Matty's head.

Matty gave me a mardy sort of glower in turn but snatched up the offending chocolate before Ross could do so instead. “Cheers.” He grinned snidely.

Uncaring, I simply shrugged, “They’re shit anyway.”

Ross’s eyes widened as he choked at my words, Matty snorted. “Fuck off, they are not!”

“Are too?”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

It was safe to say that we were at it a while, long enough for Matty to have slipped out, thrown his shoes on, doused himself in aftershave, and then made it back to find that we were still going on.

“Are n-”

“Alright, kiddies! Daddy’s gotta get going, so can we stop with all the fighting please?” Matty mocked as he picked his house keys up off the side and moved around to where I was still sat.

“Don’t ever call yourself that.” I grimaced, feeling a tad bit sick at the implication. “And are too.” I was quick to add, knowing that Ross couldn’t continue on with our bickering and I’d win. He scowled at me whilst Matty simply tugged me into a hug.

“You sure you’re gonna be alright?” He asked me, for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening.

“Yes. Don’t worry about me, ‘kay? I’ll be fine.” I told him, barely holding back a groan, “Plus I’m looking after Ross so I kinda have to be.”

Ross’s scowl deepened into a deathly glower that amused me to no end, just as Matty pressed a kiss to the side of my head and pulled away. 

“Fine. But ring me if you need anything, yeah?”

I rolled my eyes but withheld another sigh as I nodded.

“Oi,” Ross called out just before Matty could make it to the door, “Where’s my kiss?”

He only received a finger in response. 

—

I loved Ross.

I truly fucking did.

He was just this huge lovable giant that swore constantly and always smelt lovely. But at the moment he was really pissing me off. 

It was just that... he kept on giving me these annoying little looks whenever he thought I wasn’t aware. Just out of the corner of his eye whilst we were sat watching one of the many films we’d decided on.

It was grating. 

Ross was supposed to be the only normal friend I had!

The one I could count on to treat me as though nothing had ever happened. Like nothing had changed. As if I hadn’t been hit by a fucking car.

And he’d been doing a hell of a job of it, he’d been doing so, so good in fact. Before he’d gone and finally cocked it all up. 

I don’t know what had occurred for the change to happen, but it was pissing me off. He was pissing me off. Enough that if he did it one more time I was willing to either snap at him or snap him in half.

But then what did he do? He did it again.

“What.” I bit out, turning myself towards him on the settee.

“What?” Ross parroted back, obviously startled by the break in our quiet.

“Why the fuck do you keep on looking at me like that?”

“Like what!” Ross exclaimed.

“Like some homeless man you’re passing on the street when you haven’t got any change. Or a- a fucking dying dog!” I retorted in a right huff.

Ross only stared back at me.

“A fucking dying dog?”

“Yes, a fucking dying dog!” I fumed- and you’d have thought he was the one with the dodgy ear. “It’s annoying. I don’t know what Matty’s told you, but I’m fine, alright? So just stop it.”

He held his hands up in silent surrender, and I rolled my eyes at him before I set my sights back on the tele.

A few tense minutes ticked by, but I was soon startled by a bag of sweets that’d been tossed my way.

“Here.” I heard him say.

I frowned down at the brightly coloured bag now sitting in my lap, then casted a confused glance towards him.

He dipped his chin, eyes still on the screen. “Your favourite, ain’t they? Used to use them as bargaining chips on tour, remember?”

I did. But still, I couldn’t find it in me to soften my frown. 

“‘M not that hungry.” I quietly told him instead, dropping the sweets back into the pile that sat between us.

“Ah, come on.” Ross groaned, “I’ve been here ages and you haven’t touched a thing. Don’t make me eat this all on my own. Twitter will start a fucking hashtag when they see the extra pounds it’ll only add.”

I gifted him a soft snort in reply, unable to stop myself.

Ross seemed to take my pitiful laugh as an opening though and swept the sickly treats up into his arms before he slid closer to me on the sofa, throwing the mountain back onto the seat he’d just vacated. I gave him a bewildered look but he merely tossed an arm over my shoulders and pulled me in nearer towards him.

“Comfortable?” He questioned and, although confused, I could only nod at him in reply, shuffling slightly to ease the throbbing I felt in my side. “Alright then, good.”

And that was that, I supposed. He continued watching the film without anymore fuss, with me tucked up under his arm and his feet propped up on the coffee table (something that often drove Matty crazy), whilst I had mine tucked up beneath me. 

We stayed like that for a little while longer as the film carried on playing, but I found it more and more difficult to make out what was happening from behind the blur of tears that’d gone and filled my eyes.

I think it was the sniff that I’d been trying so hard to hold back that finally caught Ross’s attention, he peered down at me to find me close to sobbing and I just wanted to curl up and die. His expression faltered ever so slightly before he wrapped me up closer, his chin falling to rest atop my head whilst I could only bury my face further into his chest.

I cried. I cried a whole lot. And I wasn’t even sure why. But in that moment I just felt so incredibly sad and embarrassed, and couldn’t seem to help myself. 

And Ross, he just let me. He let me bawl into his shirt and didn’t say a fucking word, only rocked us ever so gently back and forth whilst I cried my little heart out.

—MATTY’S POV—

To say he was excited would be a MASSIVE fucking lie.

He hadn’t been on a night out in… well, ages. Since a little before the accident, he supposed. 

But both Ross and Hann had reasoned that he ‘deserved’ it- that phrase had pissed him off a tad but he’d let it pass- and the pair had all but forced him out of the house. Out and away from the one person he was meant to be taking care of.

He’d smoked a little over half a pack in the cab-ride over then lit one as soon as he stepped out of it, handing the driver a couple extra quid for being a saint and having let him get away with it. He even waved the bloke off as the car pulled away, then took a deep breath before he made his way over towards the pub Hann had mentioned earlier.

He lingered outside on the curb for a bit whilst he finished off the cigarette and let the evening air chill fill his bones, trying his hardest not to think too much about how Y/n must’ve been feeling. 

But she had Ross there with her, and Ross was almost as good a substitute for him. Almost.

Even so, it was still a struggle and a half to keep his mind off of it and in the end it only proved to be a futile attempt, seeing as he moved to light yet another fag before he fished his phone out of his trouser pocket to text Adam.

He’d actually just managed to pull up their last text conversation when a well-known voice caught his attention, Matty glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch sight of not one, but two familiar faces rounding the pub’s corner. He stilled.

“The fuck is he doing here?” Matty spat out the second the drummer’s eyes met his, and immediately pointed the hand holding his cigarette up towards George’s approaching figure.

Hann was quick to jump between them though, gaze darting skittishly between the two. “Take a sec to calm down, ey Matty?”

“Calm down?” Matty scoffed at him with a breathy titter, he shook his head at the blond, “Hann, ain’t it bad enough I have to put up with him in the studio? Now you’re lying for him and letting him tag along like he’s done nowt wrong.”

“Matty…”

Whatever crap George had just been about to say was promptly cut off by a sharp glare from him, before Adam’s voice then took over. “Look. This shit needs sorting, now. Whether you like it or not, you’re both adults, so act like it.”

“Are you for fuckin’ real?” Matty all but gawked, unable to believe this was the same man who’d looked ready to come to actual blows with George only a few weeks ago. Hann just stared right back at him, undeterred. “What- so it’s like that then, is it? Him or me?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Fuck sake, Matty. No, so stop being such a prat and listen to me, will you? You really think I’m not as pissed off as you? That I haven’t wanted to bash his head against the nearest wall just to get him to think straight?” Hann retorted, and Matty got a the tiniest bit of pleasure out of the expression George made then. “But we’re mates, and people fuck up, alright?”

Matty glanced between them, at Hann’s solemn face and then at George’s hunched shoulders. He did look like shit, in fairness. Almost as bad as he imagined he’d probably looked headed into rehab. Deserved it though.

“Look mate, he’s promised to actually talk.” Hann sent a prominent look towards the drummer when he said that, and even with his dropped chin George nodded at him. “Wants to give us an actual explanation for everything. Don’t you want to at least hear him out?”

Matty took a second to think it over, taking in their mate’s mopey state. George’s entire demeanour appeared to have changed completely as of late, like all the guilt he should’ve been feeling was slowly weighing him down. His shoulders were slumped, he had his hands stuck in the pocket’s of an old pair of jeans, his hair was in dire need of a good wash, and his eyes never strayed too far from the cracks in the pavement.

Matty huffed, then took a long drag as he dipped his head in silent agreement. 

Hann seemed to loosen at it and so he nodded too, “Right then, I need a fucking pint pronto.”

…

The pub was half-full. As to be expected on a Thursday-fucking-night when there was no match on the tele.

It was mostly just the locals meandering about, a couple of grunts up by the bar, a few younger lads playing snooker, and some old pensioners perched in a nearby booth drinking shandy.

Adam had gone and left them on their fucking own. Because he was giant cock of a twat, and of course he had. 

It was probably one of those reverse psychology techniques Carly had been going on about the last time they’d been over, and Hann probably reckoned he’d been slick with it, the fucker.

Matty fought down the urge to do anything but toy with a coaster that’d been sat on the table they’d taken in the far corner. Knowing if he did, Adam wouldn’t be too happy with him.

George was tapping anxiously away opposite him. First it’d started in his foot, but the tic had quickly transferred up into his hands. He’d been tap tap tapping away on his knee, then decidedly moved onto the table, and now the continuous sound was coming from the way he was tapping the backs of his nails against one another. 

It was fucking annoying was what it really was.

“Would you stop that?” Matty hissed before he could catch himself. He didn’t dare look over towards the drummer though, instead he honed his intense stare on the back of Hann’s head from where the man was stood ordering them a round at the bar.

The tapping did stop and for a moment Matty felt like he could finally breathe, but then George shuffled slightly. 

“Stop what?” The idiot asked, his voice sounding like gravel going through a mixer. Matty wanted to wince for him.

“That.” He replied instead, waving a careless hand over at him. “Faffing about with all the tapping. It’s pissing me off.”

Matty didn’t have to look over to know that George was watching him now, could feel the holes being burnt into the side of his head. 

He sort of wished he hadn’t said anything at all then. At least if he went and lost his head to the incessant tapping sound, he’d be muddled enough to not have to be apart of this inevitable conversation. 

With an irritated sigh, he tossed himself further back into the booth’s armchair to glance up at the wooden beams that lined the ceiling. Thinking about it, he reckoned that they’d been in this pub at least once before, only it’d been a whole lot livelier then, and a couple years back now.

“Oi, was this the same pub we almost burnt down that one night we went to smoke a joint under the pool table?”

It was a surprise to even him that he’d gone and asked that question aloud, especially after he’d been so avid in his avoidance of doing exactly that. But having been friends with George for so long it just felt strange not to, subconsciously his body was aware that one of his best mates was sat right there beside him, but his mind also hated him at the moment. 

For everything he’d done, not just as of late, but for having been such a massive twat over the last year.

George must’ve been shocked by it too, because it took him a long second to come up with an actual reply. And when he finally did, it wasn’t much of one.

“Yea- yeah.” Then he coughed lightly to clear his throat. 

“Right.” Matty mumbled and gave a curt nod.

They sat there a little longer, just growing more and more aware of the awkward silence that now stretched between them after the short interaction. Matty almost wanted to snap at George again, if only for something to fill it, but couldn’t find it in him to deride the bloke any further, especially when he sat there looking so fucking sad.

But then again, what fucking right did he have to act as though he’d been on the receiving end of a shitstorm? He’d been the one to create this whole fucking mess!

Matty was far too thankful when he finally saw Hann wandering back over, tray in hand, because his anger was suddenly reaching new heights and even though George looked like utter shite, he felt like the prick pretty much deserved it at this point. Even if they were mates, he’d gone and fucked up big time. So he reckoned he had a lot of grafting and grovelling to do if he even wanted to be spared the time of day.

“Alright?” Adam started up once he’d sat the pints down on the table and slid onto the chair just outside of the booth. It allowed them each to have their own sides and made an odd triangle of sorts. Matty didn’t linger too long on the realisation.

“Cheers.” He murmured as he took the nearest glass and necked a fair bit. George appeared to follow his lead, only he looked a little antsy in his movements, eyes flying between him and Hann as he pulled the pint towards him.

Hann glanced around the table then and Matty took that time to observe the rest of the pub, even taking in the fist-shaped hole that was presented proudly in a nearby wall. Adam only huffed.

“Look. We came out tonight to have a good time, yeah? And we can’t do that until we’ve finally hashed things out. So let's get on with it.”

Hann had a point there, but Matty couldn’t bring himself to be the maturer person here. If George had something to say, then fine, he’d listen. But he’d best get on with it.

“G?” Adam tried.

And Matty glanced over to find George staring down at the tabletop, cheeks hollowed as he shifted his jaw. He didn't reply.

“Fucking hell, man.” Matty blew out, having grown impatient with all the theatrics. “You gonna speak or what? ‘Cause I’m not hangin’ ‘round here all night when I’ve got better places to be.”

“What, like back home playing happy family with the new missus?” George snarked back, the harsh bite very apparent in his words. And so Matty couldn’t help his smirk.

“Jealous much?”

George’s eyes narrowed into fine slits that imitated the harsh lines that marred the skin between his brows and Matty watched as Hann placed a hand on his shoulder, as though to keep him seated.

He, himself, just laughed.

“You are, aren’t you?” Matty found himself pleasantly surprised by that and the alcohol only proved to savour the warm feeling he felt in his chest. “What a turn of events this is, hey! Go on, G mate, how’s it feel to be on the receiving end of all the backlash for once? Funny me sat here on this high horse you’re so used to, innit? Reckon it must be pretty fucking shit for you, seeing me all chummy with Y/n, taking care of her whilst you can’t. Does it wind you up, George? Does it-”

Matty cackled loudly when George jumped over the table to take a swing at him, only to be held off by Adam. He’d still created a bit of a scene though, even managed to draw the attention of the barkeep who gave them all a warning glance.

“Sit the fuck down, would you?” Hann whispered harshly whilst he shoved the drummer a bit, then he turned towards Matty. “And you, stop egging him on.”

Matty’s smirk still wouldn’t dim even as he took a sip from the pint that had spilt a tad in George’s tussle with the table.

“Fuckin’ prick.” George mumbled under his breath, obviously fuming.

“You’re both pricks.” Hann decided, perched on the edge of his chair just in case he need to intervene again. “Pricks who need to grow the fuck up. I mean, you’re meant to be best mates.”

“Some mate he is.”

All humour Matty had been feeling fled in that exact moment and he turned a dark set of eyes towards George. “Fuck you. Some mate-" He scoffed, "You’re really going there? I’ve been the mate trying to help clear up your mess.”

George rolled his eyes at that and Matty felt his jaw tick.

“You know what, Hann? I don’t need this.” He said, and his pint glass hit the table with a resounding thud before he moved to get up out of the booth. Adam jumped up to stop him, crowding him a tad.

“Matty, come on. Just, calm down and give him chance. Please.”

“A chance. How many’s that been now?” Matty replied instead of returning to his seat. “Gave him a chance after he went and broke her heart. Another one when he asked us all to lie to her about not knowing where the fuck he’d been after they'd split. Then again, when he decided he wanted to worm his way back in. Fourth times the charm though, right? ‘Cause how could he possibly fuck up again? Oh right, no that was when he went and let her get hit by a car!”

“How the hell was that on me?” George interrupted through gritted teeth, barely holding back.

Matty angled his body to face him then, looking him dead in the eye just as his lips dragged themselves up into a lifeless sort of smile. 

“How’s it not?” He countered with an eery sort of calm he didn’t quite feel. “You told me you loved her, and when she came to you- when she came to you, George- you just let her walk the fuck back out again.”

“You told him you still loved her?” Hann’s quiet question lodged itself into the tainted air which surrounded them and Matty could only nod in reply, unable to tear his eyes away from George and his unblinking stare. 

“‘Course he did. Outside that restaurant the night she got hit, didn’t he? Jealous then too, of that waiter, weren’t you?” Matty said snidely, and he leant in closer then, palm pressed against the tabletop he kept his voice hushed. “And then you went and left her in that ambulance alone. Fuck up, number five.”

George tore his gaze away, the whites of his eyes swimming. Matty could only shake his head in scorn and turned back towards Adam.

“How do you explain that away, Hann? How do you explain just leaving her?” He asked, feeling his own torment starting to overwhelm him now.

“When I got there she was already in surgery. They told me to prepare myself for the worst. And I sat there waiting. On my own. Thinking about where he was. And if he was okay. If maybe he’d been hit too. Because, the George I knew. He wouldn’t have just fucking left her with strangers. Not whilst she was vulnerable. Not when she was hurt.

"The George I knew would’ve been right there beside me when she seized that first time I got to see her. He would've been there when she finally woke up. But he wasn’t, Hann. He wasn’t, and I was stuck there wondering how many times it’d happened, how many times she’d been in so much pain that her body just couldn’t cope, and had to suffer through it all on her own.”

He sucked in a shaky breath and bit down hard on his tongue before he finally casted a pitiful glance back at George. 

“Where were you?”

Part nineteen>

[phasewashere]

rdr2 character hcs but they are all over the place

the reason hosea and dutch even met was because they were some town on the road to chicago and dutch kept stealing hoseas takes in the town so he went over there to steal all his shit and then. yknow the rest of the story. they hated eachother for a bit tho

dutch was the wildest fucking child to me. lil protestant shepherd boy in a farming community?? no he was horse racing, gambling on horse racing, drinking, smoking etc etc. also he would rather read in like a tree or smth rather than do his chores. also mother and son with bipolar 1 doesn't make the greatest concotion so theres just a lot to unpack there

also dutch's dad got him a dog as not only a working companion but someone to keep him company while he was away at war. guess what. he never came back

also dutch's dad was related to the dutch royal like. line or whatever and with all the economic shit going on he went over to the states to try and get with bankers and instead fell in love with a former english peasant. good for him

when dutch ran away (after his mom hit him with a lantern. my brain feels this is important) he made it to pittsburgh where he met the o'driscoll brothers who were the children of irish immigrants who ran with a ragtag gang of other street children and immigrants. also uncle was there

if it wasn't for dutch uncle would've been mugged, run over by a carriage, and shanked. and the way dutch kept getting him out of it was that uncle was his. well. "uncle" and he was just his concerned "nephew" uncle thought this was hillarious and refused to tell dutch his name because "uncle" was funnier to him

bessie is intersex AND transfemme fuck you. also her husband was abusive and she killed him and eventually ran into the van der linde gang when they were both on the run and then she fell in love with hosea and got to find true love :3 bc she deserves it

susan and the guy she mentions she was married too got married really young because they were sososoososo in love but then he died in a factory accident and she was widowed. she went on to travel out west and become a working woman and eventually a madam. because if fucking nothing that woman can MANAGE. eventually she meets dutch and they fool around and he tries to convince her to come with them. and while most of his points are bullshit she decides that some of them make sense and goes "fuck it"

yknow the rabbit matthews guy mentioned like. once? yeah thats hoseas dad and he came out of canada and a french canadian immigrant (where hosea gets the bit) with his brother (who goes on to get married and have a son). he is called rabbit matthews because of the rate at which this man fucks. it is wild. legend says he fathered 100 children in total. there is only six others beside hosea.

the matthews (hosea and his mother) live in the norhtern most points of the appalachias (new england area. makes it easier for him to get to nyc)

also hosea and his mother are jewish. so hes like. a french canadian jewish man.

hosea is wanted in new york for murder because when he finally got onto the stage his producer had beef with him. and then hosea pushed him down a flight of stairs and killed him. whoopsies

annabel was a working woman that started running with the o'driscolls and was kinda like colm's brothers lover?? sorta. and then when dutch came along again when he started working with them again they got together

colm and dutch were fucking btw. its just as bad as it sounds. so annabel and dutch were basically like. "wow ur bf sucks""yeah""we should get together btw"

young dutch van der linde hated church with a PASSION

also dutch and colm's brother got in the most fucked up fist fight over annabel and when dutch was about to get his fucking skull cracked arthur stepped in. got his ass beat. and THEN dutch got his act together. and unloaded a round into colm's brother. uncommon dutch w

thats,,, all i got that i can think of

[section-chief-prentiss]

Bad Day

Summary: After a bad day, you find comfort from an unlikely source.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader

Word Count: 1026

AO3

The briefing had gone even worse than you feared. 

In the days leading up to your first case briefing in front of the Director, your sleep was plagued with stressful nightmares about forgetting your notes or showing up in your underwear. Mercifully, you showed up to the presentation with notes in tow, fully dressed in your power outfit.

But that was where your luck ended.

You passed out the case files to the observing agents with trembling hands. You took a nervous swig of your water bottle before attempting to pull up the crime scene photos on your computer to project onto the screen behind you, but for whatever reason, the computer wouldn’t connect. You were no Penelope, but you knew your way around a computer, and even still, you were stumped. Eventually, the Director firmly insisted you continue without it.

You’d relied on directing everyone’s attention to the screen and away from yourself, and without that crutch, you were a disaster. You knew this case backward and forwards, but in that moment, your mind went completely blank.

After what felt like an eternity, the briefing ended, and the Director asked you to stay behind before you could bolt away. Once the room was empty, he’d laid into you about unprofessionalism and how poorly you portrayed not only yourself, but the entire BAU. Including your Unit Chief, Emily Prentiss, who you deeply admired.

And, okay, maybe had a crush on.

You walked out of the briefing room feeling like you were two feet tall. The only thing keeping you together was the idea of unloading everything on JJ, your best friend at the BAU and the only one you trusted enough to see your tears.

But when you made your way into the bullpen, you stopped short when you found it nearly empty. 

How long had you been in that meeting?

The only person remaining, who stood at JJ’s desk, dropping a case file onto it, was the last person you wanted to see you like this.

Emily.

“Y/N!” She said. “I didn’t think you were still here.”

Tears pooled in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. You couldn’t dare let them fall, not in front of Emily.  

“Is, uh,” you bit your lip to fight the tears back. “Is JJ still here?”

Emily’s face fell. “No, I’m sorry, she left a little while ago. Are—are you okay?” She said, sitting on the edge of JJ’s desk.

You rolled your eyes up to the ceiling in a last-ditch effort to maintain your composure. Don’t cry, don’t cry, you repeated to yourself.

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m—I’m perfect.” But your voice caught on perfect, and you crumbled, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Oh, Y/N, come with me,” Emily glanced toward her office, and you reluctantly followed. You’d already been yelled at once tonight; whatever Emily had to say couldn’t make things much worse.

Emily waited at the door, closed it behind you, and gestured for you to take a seat on the couch. You complied, and she took the seat next to you, leaving enough room for a third person to sit between you.

“I know your first briefing was tonight. And I know how the Director is with strong women. What happened?”

The phrase strong woman didn’t escape you, but you were too distressed to think much about it. Emily handed you a tissue, and you took it gratefully, dabbing at your face, hoping that you weren’t smearing your makeup across your cheeks.

“I choked,” you forced a laugh, but you couldn’t even fool yourself. “The technology wasn’t working; I got all flustered… I let everyone down. The team.” You risked a glance up, hoping she was looking anywhere else, but her dark eyes were fixed solely on you. 

“You.”

Emily pursed her lips, and your gaze lingered on them just a second too long. “He told you that, didn’t he? That you let us all down?”

You shrugged. “It may have been… strongly implied.”

“Bullshit,” she said simply.

You startled; you’d heard her swear here and there, but it was usually over a case.

“Let me tell you something about the Director,” she looked around, even though you were both very much alone, and scooted closer toward you. She lowered her voice, and you could feel her breath on your cheek.

“He’s just another insecure politician who’s so worried he’ll be replaced by a woman that he can’t see straight. You could’ve nailed that presentation, and he still would’ve found a reason to belittle you.”

A shiver ran down your spine. “You think so?”

She nodded, never breaking eye contact with you. “I know so. Don’t let him break you down. You’re too talented.”

Emily reached out tentatively, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Too smart.”

Your eyes jumped from her eyes to her lips and back again. She leaned forward even more to whisper in your ear.

“Too beautiful.”

Her lips were so close to yours that it was making your skin vibrate. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop—” Emily murmured.

“Oh, shut up,” you said with a smile, crushing your lips against hers.

She tasted like peppermint, hints of the Listerine she kept on hand at all times still on her tongue. You ran your hands through her hair, pulling her closer, and she secured hers around your waist. Her touch was electric.

You yearned to throw her perfectly tailored blazer on the floor and rip off each button on her blouse, but you were acutely aware of your location. Even though the office was empty, Emily’s windows were open, leaving you both exposed if anyone did come in.

Reluctantly, you pulled away, missing her touch as soon as it was gone.

“Is everything okay?” she frowned.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” you confessed, breathless. “But this probably isn’t the time or place.”

Emily nodded, smoothing her raven hair, cheeks flushed. “Then let me take you to dinner tomorrow night. Let’s do this right.” 

Your heart fluttered in your chest, your bad day already forgotten. “I’d love that.”

[bomberqueen17]

car update

ok so i bought a subaru forester. now that i've bought one i see them everywhere. everyone is driving these cars.

i managed to find one that didn't have a power liftgate. which means it also, for some reason, doesn't have rear cross traffic alerts. but like. i never had those before so i don't super miss them. i just think it's wild that they bundled that with such an obnoxious feature.

It also has lane departure warnings and there's a super easy button you press to turn them off except it's not a physical toggle button so you press it and can't tell if it worked or not, and every time you turn the car off it re-sets to be on, so you don't realize the super distracting warning you hate is on until it goes off and super distracts you a lot and then in the midst of a tricky driving situation you're mashing the button to turn it off only you can't look so you're not sure if you missed it so you press it again and then it goes off later and you think you must've hit it twice so the next time you risk death to look at it and very carefully press it just once so it's definitely off this time, and then it goes off again later anyway, and anyway you give up on using the button and just grit your teeth because the thing is constantly beeping at you because it can't see the lane edges and freaks out. it is a useless feature, i have never once strayed from a lane and not known i was doing it, and if I were then a beep would not fix this. i want to find the wire that controls it and CUT IT but you of course cannot do that.

Anyway. As things go, not so bad really. I've been preoccupied with getting organizers and things and setting up the car interior to be nice, because I know from experience that one trip across the state where I'm having to half-unload and store things in there and shift everything out to make room for a thing and then load my life back into it, will mean that everything in the car is chaos and then I can't find the emergency equipment I know I have. I had a folding shovel in the Crosstrek, I bought it when the car was new, and was storing it in the rear driver's side footwell, and then when I needed it, well there was so much random bullshit in that car that I couldn't find it, and in fact I never found it, I sold the car without ever having found that folding shovel. So I bought a new one for this car, and I am sewing a seat-back organizer for the driver's seat, into which all of those things will go and then I will never remove them because I will not remove that seat back organizer because even if I have unexpected passengers or cargo surely a seat back organizer can be left in place.

This is my hope, anyway. We'll see. I'm finding myself without time to actually finish sewing the thing because shit keeps coming up. I thought it would take longer to get the car but no it just took up all of two days, and I have so much else to do around my house that I don't have time for anything else, so it's just as well I'd arranged to be off work this week too because I haven't had a moment to myself yet and probably won't at this rate but hopefully I can at least get my car set up.

I got the Most Boring Color; here's hoping I don't lose my nerve and do manage to find some artwork to have vinyl-wrapped onto the hood.

Suggestions welcome. Who could I commission, to do a fantasy-airbrush-style piece in wild colors? I want like a cool dragon or something, I really don't know beyond that. Probably the dealership will tell me not to because of the automatic lane-sensing cameras and things but like if they don't work maybe it will be time to cut the fucking wires so they stop beeping at me because they don't know where the lane markings are. IDK.

we'll see if that link fuckn worked or what

yeah for some reason the thing i'm most excited about is the moon roof, which is likely going to be the thing that breaks and makes this car terrible, but at the moment in the fading glory of autumn i just love it so much for some reason.

2 things remain: 1) I asked them if i could fit a full size spare in and they consulted and waffled and hemmed and hawed and finally said yes! you can! we'll just have to go over to the parts department and see about that! and then it was An Odyssey of multiple hours to get the car inspected (???) and registered and my insurance and whatever, and we didn't finish until nearly an hour after the dealership had closed, and I knew if I brought up the damn tire again somebody was going to cry, maybe me, so I didn't. but I have to call them... tomorrow now... and be like "so i was serious, also I want to discuss how to note this down in the maintenance logs so I get my rotations done five ways". and like, to be perfectly truly genuinely honest, it's not that I'm afraid I'll get stuck somewhere unable to drive, it is one hundred percent that I drive this car almost exclusively distances of 300 miles or more, and what WILL happen to me is that i get a flat as I get onto the highway or, better still, after I have gone maybe a hundred miles, and I can put the donut on but you cannot do highway driving for hundreds of miles on a donut, and so I will be stuck in fucking Utica or something and have to buy four new tires from literally wherever is open at the time and it will be a shitshow and it will be ten pm on a friday or something, and i absolutely will not do this.

So what will happen is, I will buy a spare fifth tire, I will at some point destroy one of my tires, and they'll say "ah you gotta buy four new ones" but i will say ha no i don't, and I will put the donut back in the trunk and store the spare rim somewhere until such time as I have yet another problem and then I will say, sadly, okay now I have to buy FIVE new tires, and will re-set. (This means that yes, then I will destroy a second tire on the Thruway near Nowhere at midnight on a Sunday, that's how it will go, but I will have put it off.)

2) I forget what 2 is. Oh yeah the fucking check from my fucking insurance. We floated the money to use as a down payment on this car, pulling it from some money we have earmarked but have not yet used for other things, and then the fucking check hasn't arrived yet, they claim to have mailed it on the sixth. So that's a headache. I just spent a thousand years combing through the website to see if there's a form where I can send a message to a person to ask them-- all the website says is "paid by check" but they don't mention mailing the check, so was there something else I was supposed to have done about it?

In the meantime, I got a loan from the dealership to finance part of the car purchase and while I am un-loan-to-able because my income is so wretchedly low, I was shocked to discover that somehow my credit score is insanely high, nearly perfect. Which is obviously meaningless because nobody will loan to me anyway. And it just highlights what a fucking stupid scam credit reports are. Because I have near-perfect credit, and am un-loan-to-able. Christ what a farce. (Dude co-signed, and the moment he appeared all communications were in his name, and the dealership texted me a request to leave them a review-- addressed to his name. On my phone! Which is the only contact info they have! Which is MY PHONE. It rankles! I'm going to leave them a good review but not until after I've calmed down about it. Come the fuck on.)

[asukaskerian]

🌧️☔

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

... IS there. uh. hm. hmmmmmmm.

you know what, the only bunnies i'm having at the moment that i'm not writing OR gonna write are all SVSSS dramatic reveals, because the canon is PRIMED for diverging-from-canon with all the near misses and the misunderstandings, but i always end up, like, having them kissing in about five minutes and then the narrative tension goes ffthp. they're all very vague and mostly about kissing and crying and crying while kissing.

i've got this one idea that is a little more detailed but i just don't have the spoons for it, where, as sqq self destructs to save lbh, lbh desperately grabs on bodily and mentally. then he ends up in a weird room having a qi deviation and being rescued by... some guy he doesn't know. ensues tense cat and mouse "haha no i'm nobody you know and have no idea why we're stuck here together either" interaction (is this shizun?? it has to be shizun because i was holding onto him but he acts nothing like shizun. is it an amnesiac shizun? previous incarnation?? or is it like a dream demon who stole lbh for nefarious purposes???) and i have NO IDEA how it would end. it's mostly identity porn and emergency dual cultivation and confused cuddles.

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

bloodsport!

"Ichi-nii--"

'Fuck off, Karin,' he swallowed back somehow, strangling fear spiking up past the heat of his rage. She was too close, five steps behind, well in his range, and he couldn't, couldn't, fuck.

"Who was that guy?"

"Aheh, some guy we met on a mission one time! He shot me through several relatively vital organs, very unpleasant. All past now that we're at peace, of course."

Askin was there too, warier, the solid flesh of him and his dense psychic field echoing just behind Karin's more vaporous presence. Ichigo closed his eyes tight, stopped behind an aileron where the ground crew would be less likely to see him, and didn't look at her, didn't look at Askin holding his little sister back.

"Le Varr, come on, he's not gonna--"

"Of course, of course, but give it five minutes, kiddo, yeah?"

"... Ugh. Okay." A moment of silence, bar the farther-off noises of the crew unloading the luggage, as they positioned themselves at the end of the aileron, like sentries, or like warnings for other people Ichigo liked less to keep away. "So... If it's all past, why did he get in your face?"

"Iiii would suspect it's because he might be an asshole," Askin said drolly, mouth pursed. "Just a hunch." 

Ichigo let out a sharp little huff, and resented the man for making him laugh now, when he was still a hair's breadth away from growing all his monster parts.

"Don't tell your dad I said that."

"I'm sixteen and I already know that word and mom's the one who's paying you anyway. So he's like, an asshole above and beyond general war bullshit, then?"

Ichigo breathed, again, and again. Tried not to -- he hadn't been. Grimmjow hadn't been, above-and-beyond, was the thing, had he? Or -- not much. Ichigo hadn't expected an enemy combatant to break him out before he could go through seventy trillions rounds of fucking medical torture or -- 

Breathe. Breathe. He was punching claw holes into the spaceship. His claws weren't going to make it through the first layer of plating but it was the principle of the thing. They needed that spaceship, for going home, if they ever got to go back home one day, if Ichigo ever got to go -- fuck, shit, fuck, why couldn't he calm down, he'd been fine all through the whole dethroning Ywhach thing, why now?

It couldn't be just because of some guy he'd committed the mistake of fucking once. Maybe -- the air in the hangar smelling off, a bothersome magnetic field, whatever. He kept getting so fucking angry --

"Do I have to send the sister away?" Askin mused, voice casual and energy field rippling with readying mind-claws. "Maybe both of them? I'm sure the little contingent of Arrancar bodyguards can--"

"Over my dead body."

"Can play cat and mouse until your inner lizard needs a nap, of course, what did you think I was about to say?"

Ichigo cracked open an eye to glare, knowing that whatever he'd been about to say, it had not been that. He flinched, then, looking at Karin to make sure she hadn't seen -- and Karin was staring back, forcefully casual with her little usual, judgy frown.

"Yeah, yeah, the tryhard black sclera contacts, I'm very scared. You grew like four inches of orange roots there, Ichi-nii, I'm all for the death metal look with the mane and all but the bicolored part looks kinda stupid. Do I gotta get Yuzu's scissors?"

Ichigo couldn't help his grimace, more of a pout than anything, as years of fending off bratty younger sisters finally made it through the wave of bite-bite-tear-bite. "I'm good," he said, and unshouldered his backpack, swinging it around to land at his feet. He hadn't grown any back or shoulder quills through it, very good. The training had held at least that much, then. He hated the back quills, they looked so stupid and never did more than tear up his clothes. Oh, and bristle like a deranged mangy cat whenever he had an Emotion.

"--Oh no, Yuzu's gonna cry, you know she hates it when you use the cheap stuff, come on, Ichi-nii!"

With a defiant look, Ichigo fished out the can of black dye spray and started liberally smothering his hair in the stuff. 

It helped, this ridiculous little thing. Dyeing his hair black had just been about passing for Ishida from afar at first but through the weeks of travel he had gotten used to it, gotten used to not recognizing himself in the mirror at first glance. 

It helped, growing his hair down to his knees for his sisters to play with, then shaving it all to the skull to get the knots out, or whenever it was too hot to sleep. It helped, hacking off any bits that fell wrong, just because it was his body and he didn't have to care about having to look stupid for a month. It helped, letting Mom braid it heavy and tight, holding him back, the tufted end beating against his thighs. Making use of this unwanted ability to change his body at a whim for something silly and safe. 

It helped, looking like a stranger, because at least then it became alright to feel like one.

[caritobbg]

Coffee Disaster — P2

Bucky Barnes x Barista!Reader

Summary: She confessed in the middle of the storm. Will she be able to forgive him?

A/N: And finally the second part is here! I'm more than happy for all the love you gave to the first one ❤️ it's been so many years since I had fun writing!!!! I hope you're ready for the next one 🤭 I've got lots of ideas in my head 👀

Tags: @ro-is-struggling @luciasimmer96 @themorningsunshine @aquanova99 @mads-weasley @alexsoenomel (if you wanna be tagged, feel free to ask!! ❤️)

TW: panic attack - sad reader - Steve cursing (😂)

Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4

++ Y/N I already received the coffee bags, I'm downstairs.

>< perfect Stevie! I'm coming!

After making it clear to Bucky and Tony to behave accordingly, Y/N left in search of Steve. She wasn't going to leave him with those bags alone, even if he had more strength than she did because of the serum coursing through his system, she wanted to help load the goods.

Steve: ah! there you are -smiling- she's our barista -talking to the delivery boy who was unloading the bags.

Y/N: hi -shaking hands- very good.... What we've got here - checking the papers and signing the delivery sheet - might be missing.... -counting the order- no, nothing is missing - satisfied-...

Delivery man: yes, that's all - putting the delivery note away - I can go now.

Y/N: yes, that's all - taking one of the trolleys - thank you very much!

After they both checked that each bag was in perfect condition, they made their way to the entrance where they met Sam arriving from his morning jog.

Sam: -squealing- new coffee?

Y/N: good morning Sam -smiling- yes, it's a new coffee I want you to try -loading one of the three bags onto the trolley

Steve: sure you don't want me to help you with that? -Y/N gave him a murderous look - okok - raising his hands in surrender - I just want to help.

Y/N: Just carry those two bags -laughing-.

Sam: Bucky was over there this morning? -following them- he told me he was going to get some breakfast first, but then he never showed up.

Steve: weird of him -"surprised"- he never skips...

Y/N: Yes, he was having a coffee and he told me he wanted to talk to me about something -turning to look at him- do you know what it was?

Sam: No, not at all -bullshit- he didn't tell me anything at all.

Y/N: Steve? -looking at him- do you know what Bucky wanted to talk to me about?

Steve: neither -yeah, right- not as far as I know, no.

Y/N: ok.... -arriving at the freight elevator- I just thought it was weird to see him so... Dubitative -shaking her head- it's not like him.

She remained silent in thought. That man had been on her mind from the first moment he said, and I quote, "I like your espressos as much as your name", which, feeling embarrassed, he began to stammer, but to her it was one of the nicest compliments she had ever received in her 27 years of life.

Steve: Speaking of Bucky, have you told him yet?

Sam: Tell him what? - knowing the direction of this conversation - wait a minute....

Y/N: what I....? - understanding the question - oh no... Steven....

Sam: do you like Barnes? -surprised- SERIOUSLY YOU... -his next words came out as a mumble- mmhmdndkcbsm

Y/N: -covering his mouth- do you want to shout it louder so the whole tower can hear you -between her teeth- yes, I like James -letting it out- does it show that much?

Steve: A bit -elbowing him in the ribs- sorry to be honest - rubbing his ribs

Sam: And why didn't you tell him? -exasperated; he was tired of listening to the dreaded winter soldier complain and go on and on about her.

Y/N: Sam -closing his eyes- the chances of Bucky liking a girl like me are slim to none -opening the lift grate-

Steve: Y/N, you have to tell him once and for all -arranging the bags- you don't lose anything by doing that.

Sam: Cap's right, take a chance, what's the worst that can happen - shrugging his shoulders - you don't know until you try it

Y/N: - tired of everyone telling her the same thing - look, I don't want to ruin my friendship with Buck, ok? If he doesn't feel the same way I do I'm not going to force the relationship - exasperated - I'd like to be more than his friend, but it's impossible for him to love me back

Sam: ok missy, you don't need to be like that - raising his hands in surrender next to Steve - I'll let you two go on your way, I'm going to take a shower and then get a coffee

Y/N: I'll get it ready for you -saying goodbye

The little trip up was in total silence, not uncomfortable but.... You could tell there was tension about the topic discussed earlier.

- What if they are right? Does Bucky like me? But I don't want to ruin our friendship! Fuck! But if I don't tell him it would be worse... Okay, stop it Y/N! You're going to tell him once you're alone. Trust yourself and everything will be fine -

Steve: What are you thinking? -looking at her sideways; he couldn't read her mind like Wanda, but he knew it was related to his best friend - you're too quiet and that scares me.

The lift doors opened, revealing the desolate corridor of the emergency exit.

Y/N: I'm going to tell him -surprising the blondie next to her- I'm not going to waste any more time, I can't take it anymore and I need to confess it to him.

Steve: FINALLY! -relieved that one of these lovebirds is taking the initiative- I'm sure it's going to be fine -walking with her towards the cafeteria

Y/N: I hope so...

- Well, I've made up my mind. Now there's a problem: how do I tell him... "Bucky, I've liked you ever since I set foot in the tower and I can't get you out of my head"... No, not that. Let's see... And if I try with THE song that...? Nope Y/N cut the crap, if you're panicking about being heard singing, you're not going to sing to him! .... -

Steve: What the...

Y/N: Steve, what's wrong? What the... -tables smashed - m... My... -chairs smashed to smithereens- My cafeteria... -her imagination was trying to make her think it was a nightmare-no... Nononono... WHAT HAVE THEY DONE!??? THEY DESTROYED MY CARIMALLI! -seeing how her espresso machine, less than a year old, had been left in ruins- DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I SAVED TO GET IT!!!?????

Y/N's mind was racing a million miles a second as he watched everything she had accomplished vanish in just 30 minutes. 30 minutes in which she left Ironman and the Winter Soldier himself alone, confident that nothing was going to happen.

Tony: Y/N/N/N...

Her mouth began to move, she had started to speak, to scream, but couldn't hear a single word that was coming out of her. She felt her body shaking, chest getting tighter and tighter, she recognised the signs of the panic attacks she used to have as a child and cursed herself for having one right now.

Bucky: are you okay? -were the first words that pierced her ears.

Y/N: No... -wanting to pull herself together but to no avail- I don't want to be spoken to or sought out by...either...either of you...I need to leave. Steve... I don't... I don't feel well.

She got out of there as best he could, leaving Steve to deal with the two destroyers. She was surprised to see that she had made it to her room in less time than she thought and let herself fall to the floor as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Study and work at something worthwhile and give you a lot of income" - "What are you saying? Why are you so hell-bent on fulfilling that stupid dream?" - "You're going to starve to death with your coffee shop". Many people throughout her life said those three little phrases: bosses from previous jobs, some members of her family, friends.... She thought, thought and kept thinking about all these things. Always said that one day she would fulfil her dream and be one of the best baristas in NYC.

Y/N: help... - heard footsteps of someone running and coming through the door - S... St...

Steve: Y/N -taking her by the shoulders- Y/N. what's wrong with you? Talk to me! -she was trying to say even an "ah", but her throat started to close up even more and more to the point where her eyes started to close from lack of oxygen- shit.... - thinking fast - Y/N - putting one of her hands on his chest - doll, I need you to take a deep breath with me, okay? Can you do that? - taking big gulps of air for her to follow him; she nodded - okay, perfect... - they both stayed on the floor for a few minutes but....

Y/N: Steve - trying to stand up - Steve... I can't... - fading away

Steve: F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell Banner that Y/N is having a panic attack - taking her in his arms - tell him it's urgent!

Grateful for the serum coursing through his circulatory system, he arrived just in time. Bruce was already on the scene and all set up.

Steve: Bruce! - trotting over - please, you've got to help her!

Bruce: Rogers, take it easy - trying to calm him down - lay her down - checking her vitals - I'll put her on oxygen and we'll see how this goes. Let's let her rest and get oxygen to her whole body.

The supersoldier paced back and forth worriedly waiting for his friend to wake up. Bucky was the only one who could calm her down in these situations and make everything alright, but this time he was one of the ones who provoked him.

Nat: Steve -making the blond turn around- what's going on? Why is Y/N unconscious?

Steve: Bucky and Tony, it happens

Bruce: What? What did that duo do now?

Steve: They destroyed the cafeteria -hardenening his jaw-

Nat: Come again? - incredulous - Rogers, you're kidding, right?

Bruce: How? - speechless

Y/N: I left them alone for 30 minutes - making everyone turn around; she was finally awake- Steve helped me take up an order and.... - trying to sit down; Bruce stops her -

Bruce: lean back for a moment and take a deep breath

Y/N: - doing what the Incredible Hulk was telling - when we came back - teary eyed - it was all smashed to bits....

Nat: Ok - that was all the confirmation she needed - I'll be back in a moment.

Steve: Nat...

Nat what? - innocently - I'll go and have a chat with them for a moment.

Y/N: Nat, don't worry. I'll make them suffer myself - still weak

Bruce: Y/N... I'm scared when you say things like that

Steve: Me too...

______________________________________

As the days went by, things didn't change. Bucky and Tony were still cleaning the room, Y/N wasn't talking to them, she even put up a sign warning everyone who was responsible for the lockdown.

Y/N was sitting on a stool in the avengers' kitchen. She was staring at a painting with lots and lots of pictures of coffee shops, espresso machines, furnishings, everything she had always dreamed of. She made that collage with.... You know who.... Her "best friend". She was still on her mind until Nat approached her and gave her a half smile that faded as she saw her impossible crush step out of the lift.

Bruce, who had expected what was about to happen, called the red-haired woman over to leave them alone and, in passing, listen in on the conversation.

Bruce: Natasha, I don't think this is the right thing to do - tucked in a corner -

Nat: Stop whining - looking through the corner of the door frame and, after a few minutes - oh shit... - turning to see Bruce - this isn't going well.... You're right, let's go.

Y/N: I liked you...

Stiff. They froze where they stood. Everyone knew that there was some tension between these lovebirds, but they never imagined that in a situation like this one would confess

Bruce: But... What? - whispering - now you have to let him know?

Nat: Hide! - between teeth - someone will come out and see us!

Indeed, Y/N came out of that very door and, miraculously, without seeing them. Nat looked out and saw James Buchanan Barnes standing there, still processing Y/N's words as they were.

Bruce: Nat - tapping her shoulder - look.... He's more than determined to fix all this - watching as he lifted the damaged painting out of the rubbish -

Nat: These two are destined to be together no matter what.

Bruce: - getting out of there - come on, we have to help him - as Natasha followed him - I want to kill him, but he needs everyone's help if he's going to get her back.

Nat: - surprised - who are you and what did you do with shy Banner?

Bruce: - laughing at the surprised Natasha Romanoff - tell me you don't want to do the same.

Nat: Good point. Shall we tell Steve and Wanda? - as they skipped up the steps as fast as they could to get to Tony's office - they're probably going to want to be a part of it.

Bruce: Yeah - catching his breath - let's get on with it.

_____________________________________

Thank you for reading!!! It means a lot to me ❤️

[nerdby]

One thing that really sucks about being considered pretty is that it makes people downplay my disability and mental health issues. Like once when I was in the group home a staff member there said I couldn't possibly be disabled if I was able to have a boyfriend and hop on a bus once a month to go visit my abusive mother. Then today -- so if you're disabled and live in an area with good public transit sometimes they'll give you half on the bus fare. Because you don't make a lot of money on disability benefits. But you have to prove you're disabled.

You have to go down to the bus station or wherever with a copy of the awards letter from the government. Then you give them like $20 and they make you an ID. That ID makes you eligible for the half-price passes, but when you get on the bus and try to use the pass you have to show the ID to the driver. So they know that you aren't faking.

Anyway, today, I went to get on the bus on my way home from Walmart. The wind was 19mph and I'd forgotten my gloves at home, and it's been storming outside for the past three fucking days. I got on the bus, right, and showed my ID to the driver.

Then she snatched the ID from me and said, "I wanna see that. We aren't going to junior prom." Because she didn't believe that I was really disabled because of how I look.

So you can all take your pretty privilege bullshit and shove it up your ass.

Find a fucking therapist and unload your stupid, pathetic jealousy in private because pretty people have lives and problems, too, and we shouldn't have to suffer even more just because you wanna project your insecurities onto whoever.

[theageofsims]

The Age of Sims 2.7 - Part 20- “We'll See”

LANGUAGE WARNING

"Look who it is."

William didn't turn around, but knew the man behind him was only there to cause him trouble.

"Thought you were told not to come 'round here no more." He said, scolding him like a child. "Folks see you 'round here -- they're not gonna like it."

William did his best to ignore Brooklyn, but he kept at it until his words had settled right into William's mind, chest, and stomach. Before he knew it, he was putting Noah down onto the ground, telling him the play in the sand while he went to have a chat.

"Uncle Will's f-fri...end."

"He's no friend." He said before leaving Noah in the sand.

"Man that's cute -- you out here with your son, enjoying the day. His mom must be back at the mansion, laid out on some silk sheets. Short hair, blonde -- am I right? Gloria know about her, I mean, hell -- I know about her--"

"What do you want?"

Brooklyn shrugged, "Just making conversation. So what's it like? You gotta know the difference -- or are you one of those guys? 'They're all pink in the middle'. You can tell me -- man to man."

"Look -- I came here to spend the day with my nephew--"

"You came here to see Gloria."

"I came here to do both!" He shot back, "And to answer your question -- yes, Gloria knows about the blonde woman staying at my house. She's my nephew's mother."

"Wow, white folks be doing all sorts of freaky shit, but I can't say I'm surprised -- well, not about y'all, but about Gloria..."

William couldn't stand seeing his smile across his face.

"You're a wizard aren't you? No wait, a scientist -- that's riiiiiight." Brooklyn applauded himself for remembering. "Been meaning to ask you what type of shit you must be giving Gloria time to time to have her doped up on your sister wives bullshit--"

"Fuck off."

"Excuse me?"

"FUCK... OFF." William repeated as loud and clear as he could without Noah hearing.

"I thought we had an understanding -- an agreement."

"You want to start shit with me? Do it when I haven't got my nephew with me."

"Hey man, no need to get defensive. I'm just trying to figure you out."

"No you're not." William cut right through the bullshit. "You've done nothing, but assume shit about me, my life, and the people in it. Who do you think you're fucking talking to and about who -- Gloria?" He blinked. "Really?"

"Whoa man, hey man -- slow your roll. You know damn well you shouldn't be talking like that to anybody that looks like me 'round here -- 'round any damn place."

"Oh yeah?" William asked, challenging.

"You shouldn't be here. You've got a shit ton of parks where you live -- not to mention that whole suburban, gated community type of vibe they've created for white folks--"

"Look -- I've been coming here for years now--

"You should come somewhere else -- go come where you always were coming before you found out about this place and decided to unload onto the first Black woman you could find."

William snapped at that point, his filthy comment rippled under his skin and he lost it in that second. So much so, Noah was startled and his focus turned to his Uncle rather than the sand he was told to play in.

"I'm not fucking going anywhere -- ya got that?" He blinked hard, "If you don't like it then tough shit. Tough fucking shit."

"If I can get you jumpin' like this, imagine what more like me would do to you..." Brooklyn watched him closely, almost studying him. "When the pressure's on... oh it'll be on and just how are you gonna react when that happens?"

"Leave... me... the fuck... alone." William said, wanting to end the conversation at that very moment. "You leave me the fuck alone otherwise you'll be sorry. I'm not gonna stand back and take this fucking shit any longer -- ya got that?!"

At this point William's had voice had rose to much higher levels, but he didn't care who heard him at this point or just how threatening he sounded.

"Hey man... loosen up. No need to be so uptight... just thought I'd say hi to my neighbor is all." Brooklyn said gently, making it so his approach was far less threatening and easy going to anyone near by, especially Noah. "You might wanna think about dialing back on your temper though... don't want that kid of yours to grow up some hateful white man 'cause in this world they're always suspect number one when some massive shit goes down -- but what am I saying -- do they really pay the price? Society usually feels sorry for them and gives them a pat on the back."

"How about you worry about your daughters." William suggested.

That struck a nerve in Brooklyn that caused him to nearly see red. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means what it means." William stated, "It means mind your fucking business."

"I worry about my daughters every damn minute of the day -- got to because there's a whole world out there full of people like you who don't give a fuck what happens to them!" He tossed his head to the sky and laughed coldly, "But look who I'm talking to. You don't give a fuck what happens to people like us -- you just use us for your own advantage."

"I haven't used anyone."

"Right. It was out of the kindness of your heart to find a place like this and open a clinic."

"I had every intention to supply the community with medical health with based on my scientific research and formulas."

"Guinea pigs."

"I haven't experimented on any human being or given them a diagnosis -- I am a scientist, not a medical doctor."

"Doesn't make you better than anybody else."

"I never said I was better than anybody else!" William snapped, "Jesus Christ, the clinic was burnt to the fucking ground not even a year after it was opened -- what in the literal fuck are you still complaining about? I got the message -- I didn't reopen because I finally got the fucking message!"

"Yet you can't get the other message."

It took William a minute or two to get what Brooklyn meant.

"They are two different things. My clinic was my work, Gloria isn't." He paused for a moment, "There's no chance I'm gonna 'get' the message about her."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah -- that's right." William confirmed.

"Yeah well -- we'll see about that." He shrugged before taking a few steps backwards, but keeping his focus on William. "We'll see about that."

It was a lingering threat that made William want to address, but he was happier having Brooklyn finally leave him alone.

[jxtina-86]

Tell Me When It Kicks In - Part 2

Click here to read Part 1 for context and for Seth/Siobhan's side.

Part 2 from Dean/Becca's POV.

Warning: Language/Smut/Choking

Rating: MA

I wanna talk tonight Until the mornin' light 'Bout how you saved my life You and me see how we are You and me see how we are Talk Tonight, Oasis

Becca's hips move freely under my hands as she grinds against me. Her breasts brush against my face as she reaches above my head, a fist hitting the wall as a moan tears from her throat. The headboard is hard against my back, but I couldn't give a shit, not with the way her pussy is gripping my dick.

She hisses as my mouth closes around a hard nipple, tugging softly at first before my teeth scrape sharply. Looking up, I'm enthralled by the look of ecstasy on her flushed face. She pauses, causing me to groan loudly as she shifts, her legs moving from either side of my thighs until her knees brush against the sides of my torso.

“Fuck...” she whimpers, her nails scrapping against the headboard as she grips hard and starts to bounce once again.

My hands slide under her ass, spreading her cheeks and making her whine as she slams herself down on my length.

“Becca...” My eyes are squeezed shut, determined to hold off my own climax until she reaches hers. 

“Go on,” she urges, her hands dropping to my shoulders as she takes me in deep, twisting slowly.

I growl in response, my fingers digging in hard as I force her back to moving up and down, where I can control my own desires and not give in.

“Dean, oh...” She tightens around me, her head rocking back as I latch back onto her breast, biting softly as her orgasm rips through her, my name lost in a harsh sob.

I'm quick to flip her, pushing her into the mattress, pulling her legs around my waist as I thrust into her. Her back arches in response, my hand coming up to push the hair from her face and she murmurs softly.

“Do it...”

My hand slips to her throat, squeezing gently as her eyes flutter closed and her body tenses in response. Her hands drop above her head and she smiles softly as I reach for them with my free hand, pinning her down as I squeeze again, my hips jack-hammering against her.

She gasps as I release her throat, my head dropping down to kiss away the faint red marks from my fingers. I'm so fucking close, her hot breath on my ear, her soft murmurings as I tighten my hold around her wrists and slam into her one final time.

I collapse against her, panting from exhaustion, my head spinning. Her fingers slide softly through my hair, her lips pressing against my forehead as I pull out of her and ease her legs from around my waist.

But she won't let me roll away, not yet anyway. We collect our breath, our bodies pressed together, almost sealed from sweat and who knows what else.

It's been carnage since we entered the room, pressing her against the door, tugging her shirt over her head, biting her nipples through her bra. Watching her sink to her knees in her tight leather skirt and drawing out my dick. She let me fuck her mouth, my hand cupping the back of her head as she held my gaze, her lips stretched around me, before I pulled back and unloaded with a grunt on her face. 

My anniversary gift, she informed with a grin beforehand. A belated one, she told me as she unzipped me.

Thanks to schedules, we're a few weeks late to celebrate, but fuck... It was worth the wait.

Hence my grumbling at dinner. Well, before the big announcement anyway. Becca knew I was pissed at the thought of spending the evening with others, rather than just her, but even on the way back to the hotel, I had to admit it was worth it.

It felt odd at first. It felt like only yesterday we were sat in that bar, bullshitting our way through an evening when Lex and Siobhan strolled in through the door. Thinking about it, Seth and I seem to have been through every milestone with them – first and second encounters, moving in, exchanging vows.

And now this. Despite his recent cheerful mood, I hadn't put two and two together. I was vaguely aware of what was going on between the pair over the last few months. Travelling together means overhearing conversations that should have remained private. But I wasn't about to spill the beans. I kept my mouth shut, not even telling Becca what I'd heard. I played dumb, refusing to pry into his and Lex's business. There were times where I wanted to tell him that I had figured out what was behind his sullen moods, especially when they lasted for hours on the road. But what could I say?

I know fuck all about that stuff. There was nothing I could say that would make it any better. So I stayed quiet.

Becca nudges me softly. “I need to pee.”

I groan as I roll off her, watching as she sits up and stretches slowly before moving off the bed towards the bathroom.

“Did your high-school girlfriend's dad really drag you from the car when you were making out?” she calls out to me over the sound of running water.

“Yup. Threatened to castrate me there and then too,” I chuckle as her head pokes around the door. “Your dad never threaten any boys?”

She shakes her head. “I never took them home,” she grins. “Only girl in the family, remember? No boy was going to stand a chance against my older brothers.”

“So you played innocent, huh?”

She nods, approaching the bed. “I'm pretty sure they and my dad still think I'm a virgin.” I snort loudly in response and she raises an eyebrow. “You saying I'm not innocent, Ambrose?”

“You're anything but, darlin',” I grin, pulling her against me, my lips finding the back of her neck.

“I'm sure you'd want to believe the same if it was our daughter,” she murmurs. I barely notice how she freezes in my arms, too busy wondering why a niggle of excitement is building in my stomach, my lips twitching into a small grin.

“Shit,” Becca is mumbling. “I didn't mean...”

“Huh?”

She twists in my arms, her forehead creased in worry. “I meant hypothetically.”

“What's hypothetical?”

“A.. A family,” she stammers. “It just slipped out, I didn't mean... Fuck.”

“You want one?”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “Are you asking hypothetically?”

“I'm just asking.”

“Maybe.”

I nod slowly. “With me?”

“Dean... I...” But I press my finger to her lips.

“With me?” I repeat, slowly easing my finger away so she can answer.

“Maybe,” she whispers, her cheeks flushing.

I chew my lip, letting her solitary word wash over me.

Maybe.

Definitely not a no. Halfway to a yes.

“I didn't mean to ruin tonight.” She's slipping from my arms, pushing away the covers, her back to me. “I'm such an idiot.”

She rises before I can make a move, heading back to the bathroom, swiping a shirt from her suitcase in the process. The bathroom door slams behind her.

Fuck.

So maybe that wasn't the best response I could have given her. To be honest, it was probably the worst. But I was too busy thinking about the fact that she'd thought about that being a possibility. With me no less.

Me.

She is beyond perfect. Too fucking perfect. Too good for me. She's beautiful, both inside and out and I love every part of her in equal measure. But I sometimes wonder why. Why she puts up with me, why she wants a relationship with a guy who can't be there for her all the time. I wonder how she envisions this going forward, when she wants more and I can't give it to her for whatever reason. I mean, I know I'll try to make her happy, but there might be times where I fail to meet that standard and what then? What's to stop her from tossing in the towel and removing herself from my life? What's to stop her from finding someone who can give her everything she wants and be by her side at all times?

My mind has a tendency to wander whilst I'm driving. I have a habit of thinking of the worst case scenarios and watching them play out in minute detail in my mind's eye. I imagine slipping up, making a damning indiscretion. I imagine retreating back to my old self, the Dean who fucked anything with legs. I watch in horror as my actions catch up with me. I imagine coming home and finding she's no longer there as a result.

Being alone never bothered me before. I was happy with a select few close enough to know me almost as well as I know myself. I was guarded, never staying with one person to let my emotions get the better of me.

And then Becca turned up, all five-foot-something of blonde, brown-eyed teasing fun. I let her in and I have no regrets whatsoever. She's been the best thing that's ever happened to me, guiding me through the past year with ease, even though it was really a case of the blind leading the blind. She makes me realise that I can do this, but at the same time, I worry that one day my hand will slip from hers and I'll fall. 

I don't want to be alone anymore. I can't go back to that, not now I know what it feels like to be wanted and loved and to want and love back. I never thought that anyone could truly care for me, truly miss me. I never thought that I could truly care for someone other than myself. I never thought for a second that I could miss a woman for more than one reason.

I curse under my breath, staring at the closed door. All that and what do I do? I slip and fall.

I made her confess something and then said nothing at all.

Fuck.

But it wasn't for the reasons that she obviously thinks.

No, instead of feeling the emotions that I had expected, I was caught up in the unnerving warmth that started to spread through me. I was too busy thinking about what it might feel like to be in Roman and Lex's position. I was too fascinated by the idea of Becca thinking the same. Too preoccupied to smile and tell her that the thought had crossed my mind, maybe even more than once. 

Because that's what you do when you're in love, right? You think about these things. I mean, I know we're years away from any of that, but we can still about it, surely?

It's a natural progression... Right?

Or... Maybe not. Maybe you're not supposed to. Maybe you're supposed to take things slow, think things through in order. And maybe that's why Becca is currently stood on the other side of that door.

We don't even live together for one thing. Even thought we do seem to spend an equal amount of time in each other's apartments. Her key is firmly fastened to my own bunch and vice versa. Sometimes I just head straight to hers when I'm home, not even bothering to dump my laundry at my own place. I'm on first name terms with Becca's elderly neighbour, having helped her climb the stairs on more than one occasion. And Becca? Well, she's recognised more than me in the coffee shop on my block, her order already being called out by one of the baristas, the second she walks through the door.

But it's not like I haven't thought about it. Living together. Like I said, a lot of time on the road leads to these thoughts working their way around my brain, like an endless game of Snake. With each twist and turn, they grow bigger, bolder. It started out innocently enough, a viewing of an apartment in a complex a few blocks away. A definite step up from my current place with its balcony and floor to ceiling to windows to enhance the view further. I'd absentmindedly mentioned it to Becca, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of lazy days at mine, spending them lounging on the sun-trapped, yet surprisingly private balcony.

Her delight had led my brain down a path which lured me further and further along without even realising. Until it was too late. I imagined coming home to our apartment. To opening the door and instantly seeing her stuff mixed in with mine. With every viewing of the apartment, I started to wonder what it would be like to come home and see her lounging on our couch, sleeping in our bed, standing on our balcony, eating in our kitchen, showering in our bathroom. It was the simple things that got to me, that spurred me on.

Was it too much to want that? Was it too soon to want that and more?

The old part of my brain screamed at the stupidity. What a dumb fucking idea, it muttered incessantly. But I was determined to ignore old me. Old me only cared about me. And I wasn't old me anymore.

Not that new me was charging ahead. No, new me was still hesitant. But only because I didn't want to move to fast for her. I've spent hours debating how to approach the subject, yet still haven't had the balls to breathe a word. Even when I signed the papers on the apartment last week, my initial idea to tell her tonight, I lost my fucking nerve.

That and just as I was about to tell her, she'd kissed me, her hand slipping between us to rub teasingly at my dick. I decide that it was best to leave it. I didn't want to spoil the moment.

Although that didn't go quite to plan in the end. I scrape a hand over my face and push back the sheets. Reaching to the floor, I pick up my boxers, standing as I pull them up.

I cross the room and tap gently on the bathroom door. “Becca?”

Silence.

I try the handle and it gives way easily. I push the door open slowly, peering around. My eyes meet hers through the mirror. They're red and puffy and I feel myself crumple.

“Becca...” I move inside, closer, reaching for her. “Why are you crying?”

“I'm not,” she sniffs, her arm moving out of reach.

“Why are you hiding in here?”

“I'm not.”

I frown, unsure where to go next and then sigh quietly. “Was it something I... I didn't say?”

“I shouldn't have said anything,” she says adamantly, her hand scrunching up a tissue. “Forget about it.”

“No.”

“I didn't mean it.”

“Mean what?” I step closer and this time she doesn't move away from me. My hand circles her wrist. “You mean you don't want a family with me?”

She looks away.

“Do you think I'm mad at you?” I ask, my hand slipping into hers, pulling her towards me.

“I don't know.”

“Because I'm not.”

“You should be.”

I stare at her through the mirror, my other hand coming up to cup her face, turning her gaze towards the mirror, forcing her to meet my eye in the reflection. “Why would I be mad when the woman I love tells me she sees a future with me?”

Her face softens ever so slightly, but her voice is still firm when she answers. “It's too soon.”

“Maybe. But I don't care about that,” I say softly as I curl my arm around her waist, moving behind her to rest my chin on her shoulder.

“It's silly though. We don't even live together.”

I grin over her shoulder, the words building up inside me. But now is not the time or place. I choose more carefully instead. “So if we did live together, you'd be more happy to think about these things?”

A smile tugs at her lips and relief washes over me. “Still too soon. It was just tonight. Seeing Lex and Roman all happy. Made me wonder what it would be like to be in their situation.”

“You ever thought about having kids before?” I murmur, my lips brushing over her shoulder.

She shrugs. “I guess. One day. You?”

“I dunno. Reckon I need to stop being a kid myself first.”

Becca chuckles softly. “You're not a kid, Dean.”

“Fine, a more responsible adult then.”

“You're better at it than you think,” she turns in my arms. “I thought you'd freak.”

“Why?”

“One minute you're nutting on my face, choking me on demand. The next I'm talking shit about an imaginary child.”

I press my lips to her forehead. “Kinda one of the same thing, don't you think?”

She pulls back with a puzzled frown. “Explain that logic to me.”

“Trust,” I tell her. “The stuff we do in there,” I jerk my thumb towards the bedroom. “That ain't just about what I do to your body. You gotta trust someone up here too.” I press my lips to her forehead.

“Your point being?”

“I know how much you trust me with all that, Becca. And I'm not a jerk. I'm not going to fuck with your mind and make out that the crazy shit we do in bed means nothing outside of it. You have no idea how it makes me feel when you place that faith in me. I'm not going to mess with that. Not in there, not here. Especially not with this.”

My nose rubs against hers as I lower my mouth to her soft lips.

“I think about it too,” I murmur as we pull back. 

“About what?”

“Us.” More than you realise.

“Does it scare you?”

“Sometimes,” I confess. “Becca, I dunno what I'm doing half the time. The only place I used to feel fully in control was in the ring. Outside of that I was a mess.”

“Was?”

I chuckle. “You implying I still am?” I toy with a loose strand of hair that grazes her cheek, shaking my head before lowering my mouth to her ear, grinning at my reflection as I watch her visibly shiver as my breath hits her sensitive lobe. “Truth is, darlin', I'm less of a mess because of you.”

“Dean...”

“You make me a better person, Becca. Why the hell would I want to do anything to change that?”

She pulls back, her cheeks flushing as she chews her lip. “You really see me that way?”

“How do you think I see you?”

“I don't know...” she admits. “I try not to think ahead. I try not to think about what's going to happen next month, I try to focus just on when I see you next. But sometimes I can't help myself. I've never... I've never felt that way about anyone, Dean. I've never seen a future with anyone and that's–”

“Terrifying?” I suggest. Hell, it's how I feel right now. Once again, the words are there. Right there, willing me to take them.

“Yeah... Terrifying. But not just that.” She pauses, searching for the right word. “It's terrifying but kind of exciting.”

The feelings that took over my ability to speak earlier are back. But I don't need words. I squeeze her tightly, nodding in agreement as I kiss her again. And again.

Fuck the rules. Fuck doing this the right way. Fuck boring ass sex and conventional anniversary gifts.

“Becca...” I breathe against her mouth. “I...”

“Ssh,” she tells me, her hand slipping to mine, pulling me back to the bedroom. “No more talking.”

And despite my better judgment, I keep my mouth shut.

---

One week later

I stifle a yawn as I make way out into the arrivals hall, my neck cracking from built up tension caused by plane seats that weren't met for those over six foot.

“Dean!”

I squeeze my eyes shut at the sound of my name. I don't need this. Not now. Not with my bed calling me. But I turn anyway, prepared to plaster on a half-assed smile at the very most.

My eyes widen when I see Becca.

“Surprise,” she grins, two coffees in hand.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were out of town this week.” I reach for her, pulling her against my side as she tries to keep the coffee cups steady. I breathe in her familiar fragrance, my lips finding the top of her head.

“Change of plans. I took some vacation days instead. To make up for our non-existent anniversary celebration.”

“I thought we celebrated last week,” I say as she hands me one of the cups.

“Doesn't count. It was barely 12 hours,” she tells me as we head to the exit. “This time you got me for 48.” She casts me a sly look. “Imagine what we can do this time...”

We pause to cross the over the drop-off zone and I take the opportunity to pull her against me once again. “You think you can handle that, darlin'?”

“I've been warming up,” she whispers back causing me to groan.

“Fuck, Becca...”

She giggles, stepping in front of me as we cross and head for the parking lot. 

She chats animatedly as we head back into the city. I sip my coffee and listen, her voice comforting. Her car is warm, familiar, the radio tuned into whatever she's decided she likes best this week.

I'm on the verge of falling asleep once again when the car slows to a halt.

“Hey,” she murmurs, her fingers fluttering over my forehead. “You're exhausted, babe.”

“I'm good,” I promise, shaking my head and blinking furiously. I realise that we're outside her apartment block rather than mine.

“Do you want to go back to yours?” she asks. “We can meet up later if you want to get some sleep?”

But I shake my head again. “Nah, I always sleep better here anyway.”

A small smile. “I like that you do.”

“Yeah?”

She unbuckles her seatbelt and shifts closer, leaning across the central console to kiss my cheek. “I'll get your stuff. Go to bed.”

I'm too tired to argue, rustling the keys from my backpack as I head up the steps to the entrance. I barely remember getting through the apartment door, making my way across her lounge and into her bedroom, before face-planting onto her bed.

---

Cool fingers stroke the back of my neck and I twist slowly to find their source. Becca's soft brown eyes meet mine, her body curled against me.

“What time is it?” I ask, my voice rough with sleep.

“Just after midday,” she tells me, her fingers still stroking.

“I'm sorry.”

“What for?”

“You took time off work and all I do is sleep.”

She chuckles. “I don't mind. I quite like listening to your snoring.”

“You're weird, you know that?” I roll onto my side to face her properly.

“You don't think it's weird that you now sleep better here than at your place?” she counters with a raised eyebrow.

I shrug against the sheets. “Maybe.”

That word again.

She eyes me carefully. “Dean...” she starts, before trailing off.

“What?”

“I've been thinking about last week.”

“What about last week?”

“In the hotel. What we talked about.”

I nod slowly. I wondered when this was going to come up again. The moment I kissed her goodbye the following morning, I regretted keeping silent. The question had been on the tip of my tongue once again, but there was barely enough time for breakfast before her flight home, let alone a loaded question about where our relationship was moving.

“I mean, we talked about a lot of stuff. About us, I mean.”

“I remember,” I encourage.

“You asked me if it would be easier to think about those things if we lived together.”

“I did.” My heart picks up pace, thudding brazenly against my chest as she ponders her next words.

“I don't know if it would make it easier...”

I swallow hard. Maybe old me was right. Shit. Fuck.

“But I'd like to give it a go.”

My breath catches in my throat, my voice croaking as I speak. “Give it a go?”

“Living together,” she whispers. “Like properly. Well, not properly as we'll still only see each other when we can, but y'know, not just have keys to each others places. Have... Have our own place. Together.”

“Together,” I echo.

“If... If you want to as well.” Her voice drops lower, her eyes darting away and I scramble to find the right words to stop a repeat of last week. Words that I imagined her saying rather than me, but words that fill me with excitement nevertheless.

“I want to.”

Her gaze rises slowly. “Really?”

“Really,” I affirm.

“I don't mind where,” she murmurs. “Here, your place. Wherever you want.”

I curl my arms around her and roll onto my back, taking her with me. She settles above me, her legs sliding alongside my waist and thighs.

“How about neither?” I ask, a smirk tugging at my lips.

She looks at me, confused. “What do you mean?”

“How about somewhere new?”

“New? Dean, I'm not suggesting we buy–”

“Neither am I.”

She frowns. “Dean...”

“That apartment I told you about.”

Her frown deepens for a second and then: “You mean–”

“Yeah,” I grin, as realisation dawns on her face. “The one I showed you a while back.”

“With those floor to ceiling windows and that balcony?”

“That's the one.”

“And you want to move in there with me?”

“If you want to.” I smile. “I kind of already signed for it...”

“What?”

“It was kind of my anniversary gift to you,” I confess.

“The apartment or asking me to move in with you?”

“Well, you kinda beat me to the latter,” I chuckle and she blushes. “And the former seems a little forw–”

“It's not.”

I give her a curious look. “I think most people would beg to differ.”

“We're aren't 'most people,'” she whispers.

True.

“So is that a yes?” I ask with a smirk. But she doesn't reply. Instead, her mouth crashes against mine in a blistering kiss.

“Yes,” she breathes against my lips as she draws back and then blushes.

“What?” I stroke her cheek with my thumb.

“Kinda makes my 'gift' seem pretty inadequate now,” she tells me.

“Never,” I hold her gaze firmly. 

“I let you face-fuck me,” she whines with a giggle. “That definitely pales in comparison to this.”

“You forget what else we talked about last week?”

“No...”

“So?” I prompt.

“I trust you, you trust me,” she tells me.

“Exactly. And was that?”

“Trust.”

“And what's trust?”

She shrugs her shoulders. 

“Everything, darlin'” I pull mouth back to mine. “Everything.”

Fin x

[azol-otl]

So I don't think dc does enough with the fact that Jason and Dick canonically look similar*. Like you can't tell me it would be that hard to use it as some sort of set up or as a joke.

Like imagine this.

Some atlantean bullshit goes missing and y'know usually Garth deals with it because he deals with surface bullshit. Except this time someone pointed that out in front of Koryak who decides 'Fuck Garth I'll do it' because he has issues and as much as he hates the surface he hates Garth more and will take any excuse to show him up and maybe get some validation from Arthur**.

Except Koryak is a fucking mess and absolutely will cause an international incident and while Garth gives 0 fucks about Koryak making a fool of himself he does care about having to deal with the fallout of whatever mess he creates. So he tells him to talk to Dick so there's someone who can act as a buffer between Koryak and everyone else and to make the mission smoother.

Except Koryak doesn't do that because Fuck you Garth.

Instead he does what he wants until his patience snaps and I don't know what happens but he's two steps away from murdering a bunch of people and hey Jason happens to be there, and while he isn't against some killing, what Koryak is about to do is like five steps above that and Jason doesn't want to deal with that shit.

So they fight for a second and Koryak remembers Garth talking about his friend Robin or something. Except he wasn't paying attention because Fuck you Garth. All he remembers is that he had black hair, is obnoxious, does flips, is handsome, is somewhere between Garth and his height (am I retconning Koryak to be tall because I love the accidental trend of all of Jason's teammates (besides Roy) being taller than him? Yes. Yes I am) and he used to be called Robin (does Koryak know that Robin is a title? Maybe. But it is funnier if he doesn't because Fuck you Garth I'm ignoring you and Why would I care about the surface world?)

So Koryak is like, "Are you the one who used to be called Robin?"

And like Jason has his walls all the way up and is like, "What's it to you?"

And Koryak doesn't want to admit shit but he also doesn't want to be on the surface any longer so he's like, "Garth told me to contact you."

And Jason's confused because his reputation is shit and he hasn't seen Garth since before he died. So he's all like, "Why would Garth tell you to talk to me?"

And Koryak is just like, "I don't know he just said you'd be the person to contact because you were smart and well connected" or maybe Koryak just unloads all of the annoying gushing he's had to hear (from a distance because he. Does. Not. Care. Garth) from Garth about Dick. But Koryak has 0 clue on anyone's names and Jason is so starved for praise he's basically bright red and that crush he used to have on Garth apparently didn't die when Garth called him a giant nerd***.

And it's just this comedy adventure where Jason has to deal with Koryak because I love putting him in groups where he has to reign everyone else in. And Koryak still doesn't realize he got the wrong bird but they get along well enough and they're still getting the job done.

I just thought of a scenario where they need an Amazon and Koryak still thinks that Jason is Dick so he assumes that he just has an Amazon on speed dial or something, he doesn't know how the surface works. And Jason does! He calls Artemis and Koryak is confused because he thought Garth's Amazon had black hair. But instead of thinking he's wrong he has one of two thoughts:

Fucking Garth told me the wrong hair color to make me look like a fool but he is the fool because I am onto him.

Or

Fucking Garth doesn't even know his own friend's hair color.

But yeah I'd eventually want there to be a confrontation that Koryak was actually looking for Dick (Koryak is so confused because he's rude as shit but even he's pretty sure you're not supposed to call people Dick) but in the end it doesn't actually matter because Koryak found Jason and they were able to do what they needed to and it wasn't even horrible! Barely anyone even died! (There would have been so many more deaths if it was up to Koryak and Artemis. Jason is tired.) Maybe they even become friends!

This started as a joke but hey dc I just gave you a pitch for connecting these two fools and making an unintentional comedy.

*I recognize that Brother's in Blood exists but blob monster Jason disgusts me on such a visceral level that I physically can't read it. I refuse to acknowledge it ever.

**I don't know shit about Koryak besides Angry, Daddy Issues, Rude as shit, and that he really really wants to hate fuck Garth.

***You can't tell me Jason didn't have a crush on all the Titans when he was Robin. I remember being a teenager. I remember everyone finding everyone attractive and the amount of nonsensical crushes there were. Jason's crushes that I can acknowledge as very short lived are the one he had on Hank, who straight up hated Jason, and the one he had on Wally, who used to be the kind of person to praise anti homeless architecture to the previously homeless Jason. (Wally grew out of it but I will not ignore Wally's amazing character development as Flash because that's a disservice to him).

[nevalizona]

6). Late Night Phone Call.

Pardon any errors.

"My father is planning on shaking up one of your businesses tomorrow. Says you guys fucked with one of his." Zeus said calmly as soon as the person on the other side of the line answered.

"You're telling me this, why?"

"So you can be prepared. This war between our families is no good. You know it. I know it. I know you were talking to my little sister. Trying to get her to work with you. She's too loyal to our father, but she would like this bullshit to end too, I know it." Zeus leaned forward in his seat, trying to keep his antsy-ness at bay.

The person on the other side of the line hummed. They heard him, and now they are debating the risks. Neither want this fighting to keep going on. People are dying for nothing.

"I didn't offer anything to you. I offered something to Rosaylie. Who are you, Zeus? What can you actually do? Rosaylie is in Tellio's ear. She says something to him and he'll listen. What can you do for me?" He could hear the mischievous tone to her voice. If he was there with her in person, she'd be giving him a skeptical look. She doesn't believe he's capable of much.

"I can talk to my little sister. She will be working with me, not you. And in return, I'll work with you." Zeus is trying to be his normal charming self, but nerves were twisting his stomach into a knot.

"I know you're smarter than this. That's too many parts, Zeus. Rosaylie will never agree to this, you're a fucking idiot for trying."

Zeus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He needs to keep a level head. Can't let his temper get the best of him.

"Just me then. I'll give you a heads-up of things like this for now. You do the same for me. If this works, and we prove our loyalty to one another, we try something more. We both want the same thing for all this pointless death to stop." Zeus hoped and prayed to the moon goddess that this would work. May she shine her light on him.

"Fine. But Zeus, you need to come up with a better plan. This is nothing. I know you are new to this, but the next time you call me with a proposition, it better be worth my while. You come to me with an unloaded gun hoping to shoot. Be prepared next time. I know you want to run things someday, but you still have a very long way to go. Goodnight, Zeus." The line cut directly after that.

Zeus sighed as he tossed his phone onto the coffee table not too far from where he was sitting. This didn't go as well as he was hoping, but it also didn't go as bad as it could've. He knows she has a point. He's still very new to all of this. He wished that his little sister was more willing to work with the Maesas. She likes the idea, the cartels working in harmony, but she claims it could never happen. Zeus thinks it's worth a shot, anything to keep so many young folks from dying.