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#listen I just have a lot of thoughts about the Legitimately Good writing the middle seasons of rvb had and I want to talk about them
shitpostingkats · 2 years
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Epsilon, Carolina, and Parallel Character Arcs
To me, there are two lines that stick out from the freelancer collection. The culmination of the two characters that play center stage for the entirety of the duology, Epsilon and Carolina. Their stories wrap in two of my absolute favorite, gutpunching, and heartfelt lines of the entire show:
 "I forget you." 
and 
"Your past doesn't define who you are. It just gives you the starting point for who you're going to be." 
Epsilon and Carolina's quotes work in parallel to each other; on one hand, Church making the deliberate choice to lose the memory, to stop, for the sake of someone he cares about. He forgets. And Carolina, making the choice to hold that close, to move on, for the sake of herself. She remembers. 
What makes this absolutely fascinating is they’re following the same story, healing from the same pain. 
Red vs Blue is all about memory. Unabashedly, the show has been very vocal about its primary theme since the day they first decided to have actual writing. But one thing I think doesn't get enough attention is how this is carried over and represented in season 9, the season that flashes between the memory unit and PFL's early days. In Church, the usage is obvious: he's living in a memory, a projection of his old life. Might as well make it a good one. But the other side of the season is also a recollection. It's Carolina's memory. We get to see the good times, before things went wrong, before people died. We get to see the twins working in tandem, the team functioning. Carolina and York banter. Wash is still the goofy rookie. They drive through the city listening to music and crack jokes and show off. Sure, it shows the beginning of some of the tragedy to come, but the freelancer side of the season ends with a scene between Carolina and the director, saying 'this was the warmup. From now on, it will be serious.' 
Church and Carolina are both remembering their teams. The people they love. And how their lives got ruined by project freelancer. Those moments, those memories, are going to be the driving force and rage behind their team up, their quest for revenge. The idea that these people, this family, was hurt by one man and his stupid goals, is their shared trauma that leads to them being the driving force of the plot. 
Even in season 9, we see Church trying to hold on to his memories. To make sure he has all his facts right, that everything, down to the smallest detail, reflects real life. Eventually, he uses this for closure. He finds Tex, and sees the rage she's carrying in her. Not at what the director did. Honestly, she seems to be mostly over her past as Allison seeing as it, you know, wasn't her. But the same idea, that so many lives were lost, all for the sake of someone that wasn't her. That she didn't get to make her own choices. 
Same trauma, different result.
She sees Epsilon, trying so hard to remember, to hold on to everything, and she says "hey." She tells him off. She says ‘Even if these memories matter to you, holding on to them is hurting me.’ So Epsilon lets go. He decides that these memories aren't going to save anyone, they're just going to keep both of them from healing.
Tex was the reason Epsilon was even created. Like he says, "You were the memory. You were the key." 
Epsilon is memory. He's the key. And he choses to throw it away, so it can never be unlocked again. It's bittersweet but it isn't fair, her being brought back over and over, her very autonomy violated, for the sake of someone else’s story. 
And hey! That's another theme he shares with Carolina!
The idea that the stories we see in television, the ones guided by trauma, aren't always correct, because your pain doesn't mean you can hurt other people. And not in a "oh you want to Kill the person responsible for your trauma and that makes you a Bad Person and you will eventually have a Change of Heart." (Though that does, kinda, happen, buts it’s way more nuanced and well written and makes much more sense for their personal arcs than the stereotypical 'uwu murder is bad' trope.) No, Carolina and Church are never decried for their goals, for wanting to lash out or obsessively remember. They get called out when their ideals, the ones explicitly labeled 'noble' or 'romantic' by popular media, hurt the people who are trying to help them. Church compulsively follows Tex through layers of memories, chasing the girl he's determined to love. In any other story, that would be sweet. Carolina wants the director dead, wants the man who hurt her and her friends killed. In any other story, that would be heroic. But both of them get called out for their behavior. 
“Romance happens in movies. In real life, it’s called stalking.” 
And, interestingly, by the people who they aren’t hurting. In the memory unit, Tucker, walking restraining order, is the first one to make Church question if what he’s doing is wrong. Carolina is berated for her treatment of the reds and blues by Wash. Wash. Wash, the guy who’s the only one other than Carolina and Epsilon who knows the entirety of what the director did, the guy who’s carrying the traumas of three different people in his head, the guy who should want the director dead more than anyone. But he also has his experiences from the previous seasons. He’s the one who steps up, like Tucker did, and tells her ‘I know books and tv have taught you that this is okay, that you can treat people like side characters in your personal story, but I’ve been down that road. In reality, it just makes you a jerk.’
Trauma does not give you a free pass to be a bad person. 
Throughout season 10, our story is now flip flopping between Carolina-and-Epsilon, and the final days of project freelancer. The bad days. Connie’s death and Maine’s degradation and Tex’s betrayal and the final mutiny. And, most importantly to Carolina, her final fight with York. 
Though it pains me to do so, I’m going to pull a quote from season 15.
 “Sometimes, I think York was my chance at a fresh start. And I threw it down an elevator shaft.”
Carolina is fighting between the two sides of herself, the parts she sees as being “splintered” by the project. The good leader, the team commander, the captain of her little family, versus the ruthless soldier, the headstrong killer, the ‘best of the best’. She spends time tracking down all the old bodies of her teammates, trying to reconcile how much she loved them with the fact that they all betrayed each other. Connie’s helmet, Tex’s crashed ship, and, once again. 
York. 
When Epsilon shows her the recording of York, she sees her chance at a ‘fresh start’. She sees her old teammate, her almost love, the man who was willing to die to do the right thing. Epsilon tells her “I know what it’s like to spend your whole life chasing ghosts.” 
From his perspective, this is crucial advice. The choice to stop remembering, to move on and let go, is what kept the woman he loved being forced to live, over and over again. It's the choice that got him out of the memory unit, that allowed him to overcome his grief and have a semblance of closure.
But to Carolina, the memory of York was the only thing giving her reservations. The memory of ‘do the right thing, no matter the consequences’. The memory of a family, of friends, of jokes in the pelican and a lighter that says Errera and the idea that she got more from the project than years of hell and trauma. The idea that she needs to ‘let go’ is exactly what breaks her.
 Again, same history. Same pain. Different ways they come out of it, different ways they heal. 
From then on, Carolina is dead set on killing the director. She’s ruthless, vicious, and downright suicidal. Epsilon, who was just beginning to stitch himself together, feeds into it, with newfound whiplash after getting his full memory back. Together, they become a dysfunctional little battle team of loathing, eventually driving away any help they had and dooming their vengeance to failure. 
(Of course, they only survive because the very people they abandoned look at eachother and decide ‘They were hurt. They hurt us. But this thing they’re chasing, this trauma, is what brought us together in the first place. And we’re going to hold on to that companionship, the shared history, instead of the actions made by someone mad with grief.’ You know, kinda like the original pfl chose not to do.) (Honestly, people really undervalue the sim troopers in my opinion. They went through almost the exact same thing the PFL team did, just on a broader, less personalized, level. The fact that they look around and, without even knowing it, choose love and sticking together the exact same way Carolinas' previous family didn’t, is hecking underappreciated.)
But I digress. Honestly, I think up until the very end, Carolina planned to kill the director. This wasn't a big lie, she wasn’t on the fence. She really planned to put a bullet in his skull.
I think the reason she didn't, the reason she walks away, is the usual strange trifecta that the series had been running on since season 6: a combination of Alison, the director, and the ai he created because of her loss.
When she enters the room, the first thing she sees, no, hears, is her mother. Her mother, reminding her husband, reminding them both, to never say goodbye. A message from almost literally beyond the grave to not miss her, not mourn her, but just to. Think of her as not being here right now. Carolina wonders if she should have decried her teammates' memories the way that she did. 
Next, she sees her father. A man who, in his own words, “has a mind more filled with memory than it is with hope.” Honestly, props to everyone on that scene, because up until then rvb had some really rocky human animation, but that moment, that frame, is so bleeding with tiredness and hopelessness that it hurts every time. She sees a man who is so overcome with mourning, with seeing someone he loved as “gone”, that it killed hundreds of people. I think Carolina decides not to kill him, not because he looks so lost, but because she sees what she will turn into, if she puts a gun to his head. 
And finally, my sweet darling Epsilon. God fucking damn you and your funky little robot monologues that tear my heart out of my chest. Epsilon screams at the director, lists his crimes, finally lets all the deaths that have been piling up spill out of him, and there's a very telling line that I adore with the entirety of my soul. 
“I’m here to remember what you’ve done. Someone has too.” 
Because that's what Epsilon sees himself as. Not a person, not a fragment, just a memory chip to use to hold the director accountable. That's literally how Epsilon is introduced to the cast; the piece of evidence that can testify against project freelancer. He thinks he’s just a receipt.
But Carolina hears this and thinks ‘I can remember them.’ All season, she’s been thinking about the final days, the betrayal and the scheming and the family that ripped itself apart. But she needs to remember the earlier flashbacks, the joking team and the days when things were easy, too. She’s been living this season in a memory, and she didn’t even make it a good one. 
Like Church, she chooses to fight for her team, for her memories, and for herself. 
“Your past doesn’t define who you are. It just gives you a starting point for who you're going to be.”
So Carolina chooses memory the exact way Epsilon didn’t. She kisses her father on the head and assures him he’ll be remembered not as the director, but as Leonard. She walks out, decides to let herself remember York and Tex and Wash and Connie and the twins. 
It’s no surprise that the season ends on an anecdote about Allison. Carolina, the woman who’s remembering her, and Church, the ai who forgot. These two people, who both loved her, albeit, in wildly different ways, swapping a story that isn’t tainted by PFL, just a small cheerful story. They aren’t mourning her, not like the director did. They’re acknowledging that she’s gone, that her death shaped their lives, their shared trauma, and they’re digging through the pieces to find something they want to hold close, something to build themselves on anew. 
Your past doesn’t define who you are. Your memories shape who you become. But you get to pick which ones you keep, which ones you hold on to. You get to decide which experiences are your starting point for who you’re going to be.
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tangleweave · 1 year
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❓ — three adjectives that describe you
❤️ — what are some of your best qualities?
💔 — what are some of your worst qualities?
✨ — what would you change about yourself, if anything?
🎮 — favorite video game(s)?
🗒 — what is/are your favorite genre(s)/theme(s) to write?
🤔 — what genre(s)/theme(s) do you struggle to write the most?
😗 — what are some of your favorite things to do when you have some time to yourself?
💯 — share three random facts about yourself that your mutuals may not know about you.
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❓ — Literate. Intelligent. Tall.
❤️ — Goddamn it, I need a safeword... Okay, I'll try five things.
1) I'm tenacious; when I say I'm going to do something, I mean it. 2) I prefer neatness to "organized chaos". 3) I genuinely and persistently want to help others who are experiencing difficulty. 4) I have a vast wealth of patience and I'm not easily angered. 5) I'm good at encouraging others.
💔 — This one's easier. Five things here, too.
1) Although I've said I'm going to do something, it'll be longer than you want it to be before I get around to it. 2) I'm not good at finishing projects I start (see: literally anything I write). 3) In my pursuit of helping others, I let my own priorities languish and spread myself too thin. 4) Conversely, I can be terribly oblivious to others' needs when pursuing the dopamine rush and will sometimes vanish or go silent at the most inopportune times. 5) I can be as much of an enabler as I am an encourager, and struggle to enforce boundaries I set, particularly with loved ones, because I have a hard time with people I love being mad at me.
✨ — I could do without the deficit of attention and the chronic anxiety. The rest is serviceable.
🎮 — I guess this needs a "five things" breakdown as well because there's no way I can limit it to just one.
1) Diablo series. 2) Rock Band series. 3) Pokémon series, core games plus Legends Arceus specifically. 4) Marvel's Spider-Man series. 5) Middle-Earth: Shadow of Mordor/War series.
(NOTE: The next three answers are copy/pasted from previous asks of the same questions. Forgive me!)
🗒 — I love writing action/adventure, suspense, angst, and romance. Usually I prefer writing within backdrops of modern-day realism, near-future sci-fi, and medieval fantasy.
🤔 — Horror. I'm really not good with this genre specifically. I also struggle mightily with the theme of hurt-no-comfort; if left unattended, I will dwell on this until I spiral, and it takes some doing to get me out.
😗 — I watch some niche corners of YouTube (gamers like Markiplier, Jacksepticeye, Game Grumps, and GrayStillPlays; quirky and gross stuff like Good Mythical Morning and Dr. Pimple Popper; food pr0n a la Binging With Babish, Worth It, and About To Eat). I listen to a lot of rock music, always on the search for the next progressive metal band I'll fall in love with (can't get enough of Unleash the Archers and Myrath, currently diving further into Battle Beast and Beast in Black). I have a decent collection of video games but I'm a little stuck on Pokémon at the moment (currently playing Sword, will be playing Violet when it comes out). Until earlier this year I was running a D&D campaign with a few folks lurking around various corners here on Tumblr; we're currently on hiatus but we mean to return to it sometime after the holiday season. But really, even though I struggle with it when left to my own devices... I love to write. Even if I don't mean for it to be anything professional, even if it's just a little drabble here or there... putting my thoughts down and assembling them into a story I think is worth telling has always been a love of mine.
💯 — Hmmm, three things...
1) I have a pretty impressive collection of tabletop games, but hardly anybody to play them with (and frequently no tabletop, either, mine tends to be covered in stuff). 2) Surely you've heard the trope of "I have a girlfriend, she lives in Canada!"? That was me. For about two years, I legitimately did have a girlfriend who lived in Canada. That relationship crashed and burned horrifically during the worst year of my life... but I'm grateful that it happened then, instead of after moving in together. 3) I've always had a love of writing, but it was only when I was a teenager that I learned fanfiction was a thing that others enjoyed and not just for one's own entertainment. Feeling that was a "safe" way of exposing my writing to others, I went to a Pokémon website and submitted chapters of a story I'd been working on. The chapters were highly rated and praised by the moderators, and I received fan email, which was a mind-blowing experience all its own. I struck up a few friendships among these fans. While most of those friendships have languished since, some are still strong, and one in particular went the distance. Yes... I married my own fangirl.
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schzunabe · 1 year
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GOOD MORNING ITS ME THE COURIER PIGEON who has absolutely DOGSHIT memory and completely forgot xey were supposed to be delivering mail OOPS! i also thought i was following you and i was all like "oh ill be reminded when mew shows up in my feed" BUT EVIDENTLY NOT
BUT ANYWAYS! cracked pots cracked pots... one of my favorite things 2 rotate in my brain is the idea that he actually legitimately cares abt the zeds & cultists under his care on a level way deeper than "worshippers/means of power gain". as far as the zeds go i dont think they were supposed to turn out that way (That Way as in half rotting and dead on their feet) bc it would be stupid to just be satisfied with that outcome & not further try & improve upon it. and altho everyone blames him for the apocalypse it was jeb who released them from the tower in the first place & it's so very easy to just say "well it was bound to happen anyways!" when that's never outwardly said one way or the other! i think to him zeds are just... very sick people, & he's doing what he can to make their quality of life a little better in the middle of Literal Fucking Apocalypse bc he's responsible for their state in the first place. n as far as the fanatics go most if not all of them were previously nexus scientists-- a good hunk of them were probably people he worked directly alongside! n in-game he calls them his children and him their father, i think he knows exactly how it feels to have no one listen to you & everyone write you off as a fuckin madman (plus they all experienced the same Turbo Radiation Poisoning from dissonance so there's that).
also smt fascinating to me that ive kinda gone off about on my own acc b4 but, in a lot of ways what he does appears to emulate & mirror phobos? the whole "NO ONE CAN FUCK ME OVER IM SO COOL AND AWESOME TEE HEE HEE" thing (and subsequently Getting Fucked Over mere moments after saying that), th fact that they both use a relatively similar method of attack (melee, swords, teleporting around the stage n magic missiles) [tho this can also be said of jeb ig so whatever], elevating themselves as gods & demanding worship of the ppl around them. it feels like he was trying 2 make another little Nexus to me with his cult & he refers to Phobos as his "benefactor" at one point & has a statue of him in the mining sector & i believe there's another one nearby fanatic territory (cannot 4 the life of me remember where) that's covered in the same candles the sewers r decorated with around the base. basically what im saying is at the very least he looked up to the man and at most those mfs were smoochin
i dont wanna overwhelm u so i wont drop all of my brainthoughts off at once & i will definitely probably NOT type this much in the future APOLOGIES 🙏🙏 BUT OURGH YEAH! cracked pots :-)
AHHHHHH OHH IM SSO FOND OF ALL OF THIS RAAAHHHHH
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Do you have any guilty pleasures?
sure. i have a lot. to be clear, these aren't things i actually feel any guilt/shame about (i am incapable of feeling anything like that). i just take this to mean any interest that is considered low-brow or "not good".
d&d/critical role, a lot of music i listen to (xxxtentacion, kanye west, post malone, lana del rey, nicole dollanganger, lumineers, etc), reading/writing poetry (probably not seen as bad these days, but growing up people thought it was cringe), drinking milk, the star wars prequels, avatar (the james cameron movie), wwe (i haven't watched it since middle school but i still appreciate it and think it's actually a really fun form of entertainment and a legitimate artistic expression), /some/ anime (i'm not as crazy about it as some people but i love me a good anime from time to time), i think reddit can be enjoyable if you avoid the popular subreddits and just use it for really niche subreddits, 4chan isn't quite as fun as it used to be but i still occasionally visit, erotic literature, fast food (i don't eat it a lot because i /prefer/ my own cooking and it can get expensive but i've never really understood people who act like fast food is inherently disgusting), asmr videos, true crime, the joe rogan podcast (not every episode, but just whenever he has an interesting guest), tumblr, twitter, disney (honestly i love the fuck out of old disney movies and disneyland so fucking much), marvel movies (i think most of them are mid but there are a handful i think are fun little popcorn flicks), baby talk with my gf, musicals, antiquing, edc (electric daisy carnival, never been but i've always wanted to), burning man (again, never been but always wanted to), etc.
i can keep going but i think you get the picture.
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sassmonster · 2 years
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A (Not So) Quick Survey to Get to Know Me
As much as I want to dive straight into all the things I need to get out of me, I know it’s just better to get some fun stuff out of the way. Or, if not fun, at least informative. I’m not using just one questionnaire I found but several cobbled together and a few questions of my own to pepper it with my own personality, whatever that is.
What’s your full name?
Andrea Lynzi Puckett, though I tend to do Moten nee Puckett these days. I might not be legally married, but trust me, we’re married.
Are you named after anyone?
Good question. Not entirely. My mom never liked her first name and loved her middle name, so I got that one as my first (Andrea), the rest of it was just because my mom liked writing cursive loops at the time I was born and wanted to write Lynzi. Coincidentally, I don’t (and didn’t) hate my first name, but for most of my childhood I went by Lynzi to my family and friends (the former by my family’s choice) and I think it’s just kind of hilarious. My brother wanted to name me April and my dad wanted to name me Rose, for what it's worth.
Do you have any siblings?
An older brother, named Ryan.
Where did you grow up?
Primarily in Tallahassee, Florida. I was born in Kentucky but we left before I turned one and moved down there, then, around 6, we moved back up to Kentucky and I lived there for another 10 years or so before I started moving around and living with different families in different places in the States.
What activities did you do in High School?
I wasn’t really that into participating at that point, probably stemming from all my social anxiety — that being said, I did try a few things through the years because my friends did, but High School was kind of bone dry for me. Not a fun experience and I ended up dropping out, but I guess more on that later.
Where did you go to college?
I didn’t! I almost ended up applying into my mom’s alma matter of Eastern Kentucky University after I passed my GED there and they kind of tried to woo me; something about my writing score and the 94th percentile or something. I wanted to study philosophy though, but I was informed I should go to college to get a job and was suggested, dundundun, writing! Which, as I think a lot of you know, isn’t exactly the most stable thing. But the idea of going to college for a job rather than learning soured me and I never got around to it.
What kind of music do you like?
Rough question, because I think I literally listened to everything at one point or another, but really don’t adhere to the idea of genres on the whole. I’m not here to tell anyone what their music falls in to, category wise, and I don’t think I should be defined by that. But if you want general ideas, my spotify history should provide uhhhh… some illumination.
What’s one hobby that you’d like to take up?
Knitting! Well, knitting and crocheting. I knew how to do basic crocheting as a kid but never really got further than that, but it seems way soothing and like it’d tickle the neurodivergent parts of my brain. I’ll eventually get around to it, but the stars haven’t quite aligned yet.
What did you think you wanted to be when you grew up?
A veterinarian, because I love animals and wanted to help them? But at some point around middle school I realized down that path lay me watching an animal dying on my table and the way it would tear through my heart. I can’t even watch animals die in shows without getting misty, even knowing they’re fake deaths, I can’t imagine how the sight of an animal dying either in or out of my control would sit well.
Honestly if I’d thought about it, looking back in hindsight, I’d probably have said ‘healthy’.
What’s the biggest project on your to-do list right now?
Finishing the tidy up and decorating of our new space. We haven't done much in the last few weeks but things have been hectic. We got big plans and empty brains rn though so.
Do you have any irrational fears?
I have trypophobia, which gives me legitimate panic attacks when it gets triggered and a fear of deep water/the unknown/dark open spaces. I don’t think either of them are really irrational, but I’d classify trypophobia (the fear of clusters of holes, such as lotus pods) as less of a fear and more of a very visceral reaction to something. It makes my insides itch, I sometimes feel like I’m going to vomit, and I’ve been known to claw at my own skin just to calm down after it. It is the worst.
Are you a morning or night person?
Night, hands down. I’ve been getting up earlier than I used to (about 10:30 am or sometimes 9 if I can’t sleep well) and staying up until my usual 1 or 2, but it used to be way worse. I used to stay up until 6 am out of pure insomnia and sleep most of the day. I just prefer the night, man, what are you gonna do?
What are some of your favorite memes?
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If there’s one thing I know to be true, it is…
Lying is always a bad idea. It creates more problems than it solves, even if you’re generally just ‘lying to someone’ to spare their feelings it ends up spiraling into nightmarish proportions. With my anxiety, the idea of lying is really, really hard; the act of coming up with a lie then having to balance all the other stuff going on to keep that lie up and having to contend with the thought of what’ll happen when the truth comes out just makes it easier to tell the truth and take the consequences.
Don’t lie, it sucks for everyone. (I do, however, tend to not intrude on other people’s lies as long as it’s not emotionally or physically harming anyone because that’s not my business. If you want to say you were running a marathon last week that’s up to you.)
Do you have any nicknames?
Sort of, yeah. My parents would often short Lynzi to Lyn for a long time, and when I was a child my dad called me goose because a) they replaced their pet duck with me and b) all I did was eat, sleep, and shit (his words) but it is such a heart warming memory for me; goose is the best nickname and I do have those mannerisms.
I’ve had friends call me Dove (Drea-love), D, Dre, [insert RP character name here], and a bunch of others.
My husband doesn’t have any particular nicknames for me, but he refers to me as really sweet petnames sometimes. Other times he calls me Truckasaurus and Bigfoot because I have big feet and hands like Lana from Archer and it’s sort of a funny thing that I definitely do not resent him for.
What’s your favorite book?
American Gods by Neil Gaiman, hands down. He’s also my favorite author. I return to that book at least once a year to read it again and absolutely, truly adore it. Usually I have a hard time pinning down favorites but that one is somewhat easy to get. (ps, that is not an affiliate link, I will get nothing out of you going to buy and read that book, it’s just that good.)
What is the last thing you purchased?
A hot iron to straighten my hair and keep it the way it was when I first got it cut. Haven't really used it yet, because I haven't needed to go out anywhere, but I did use the blow dryer. Fun, practical stuff.
How did you meet your husband?
Funny story! Well, not really. We met online on a video game called City of Heroes like… 13ish years ago? We knew each other very loosely, mostly like by association of association, but I always had a bit of a crush. We followed each other on socials but I was too shy to ever talk to him and he was too oblivious to even notice me. I still sometimes give him guff about that one, but it was bongy how often I’d just look at his posts and will him to see me, like some kind of mousy haired girl in a young adult paranormal romance novel.
Fast forward about ten years and we met in a revival of the game that had been closed forever. I still followed him on Tumblr, until he disappeared, but had never really sat down and had a conversation with him until I finally mustered up the courage (because we were in the same group) to message him and say “Yo fucker” continued by an explanation of my anxieties and how I just wanted to say hi and talk and all that jazz. The rest was history… super fast history…
I’d say it took us very little time to realize we were in it forever. We officially started dating in December and I was here by February. I haven’t looked back (except that I miss my cat and Ezrik) since. I’d go through hell for him and he knows it, and he’d do it for me too.
The first night I was here I got really motion sick from the plane ride (and subsequent ride home) and spent most of the ride with the window down trying to keep cool, because getting hot when I’m throwing up makes it worse, while he was freezing his buns off and just watching me throw up into a shopping bag. Once we got back to his place I laid my face down for a minute and literally passed up and woke up every once in a while to throw up. He’d change the bucket out with a new bag and checked on me all night.
I realized I was home and I was loved and I never wanted to be with anyone else in my life. He says he knew it was forever that first night too, even with all the throwing up. … I wrote too much.
When was the last time you cried?
A couple of days ago I was listening to the Smashing Pumpkins, thought of my brother, and had a quick tear up about it. Music is very capable of doing that for me, especially when it comes to my family. I’ve lost all of them and it takes very little to get me to cry over them on some days. Though I’m working on my grief it’s still a process and it feels like every time I get somewhere someone else dies on me. (psa: each member of my immediate family died within five years of one another almost like clockwork and I hate it.)
How tall are you?
6’2″ which is another reason my husband calls me Truckasaurus. I’ve always hated it because it feels like the antithesis of girly but I’m learning to embrace it more as I age. Growth, or whatever. (ha, a pun)
Tell me about your longest running friendship with someone?
I am still friends with a whole group of people I met over 20 years ago on Yahoo! chat. We used to RP together there and we all found each other again on Discord (I’d stayed in touch with a few of them to begin with overall) and we just sort of kept in touch that way and RP new characters from the same setting sometimes on Discord. I really should write more there, but there’s been a log going on.
What is one thing that instantly makes your day better?
I am living the happy marriage cliche, but my husband. I can just look over at him and just the fact that he exists makes me smile. If you want something less sappy and less apparent… animals. All animals. I don’t care just give me the animals.
What do you enjoy spending money on?
Clothes, skin care, and recently, make-up. I know it doesn’t seem like it with the fact that I dress like a gremlin going to an underground club for other gremlins who tried to make it as child stars but… I really do want to try to get better about these things. That’s one of the things I’m going to do here is start getting myself up, dressed, made up, and ready to take a picture for an OotD type of thing.
I also love spending money on nerdy gaming shit and all kinds of plush dolls. I give Fangamer more money when I have it than I usually have to spare but I just have loved their store for so long. (again, no affiliation, I won’t get paid, but you know, do the thing.)
What do you wish more people understand about you?
That I am trying really hard. I know it might not seem like it from the outside, but I am working through years of untreated mental health issues with medications and making strides every day, so I might be moving slow and flubbing sometimes, but I am really trying.
Also, my anxiety questions are never personal and you’re not obligated to answer them. I can’t say I won’t panic a bit if you don’t, but I’ll never truly hold it against anyone. It’s just my anxiety running wild that makes me have to ask if I’m annoying, or if you still like me, or if something is wrong, or that you seem mad at me? It’s not because of anything you’ve done, most likely, just my brain misfiring and me trying to corral it back in.
No one is obligated to deal with my issues, my grief, my misinterpretations, my emotions, or anything like that. Any of you who do are saints and I love you for it, but I’ll still love you even if you don’t.
Do you have any specific talents?
UhhhHHHHhh nope, not really. I mean I have managed to never break a bone in my life or need a hospital visit, but part of that is because my mom was an RN and could take care of most things on site. In recent history I’ve fallen down the stairs at home twice within the span of a year almost exactly. I didn’t break anything there, just got bruised and sore, and I still have the marks from every time but everything really seems fine and honestly… that’s talent, right?
I think most of the things I do aren’t talent, just slowly learned things. I can do unlicensed therapy with the caveat of ‘take it with a pinch of salt’ to pretty good results from what I’ve noticed. No replacement for proper help but… I can put on my Human Resources voice and tend to calm things down in most situations. Still not really a talent though, is it?
What do you dislike that everyone else seems to like?
Right off the bat? Sour cream, cilantro, and guacamole. They’re both vile to me, but in the case of sour cream I don’t want it anywhere near me. It’s just so not my thing. Like whipped cream that went real bad. The texture and flavor are messed up and I just can’t with it. Cilantro doesn’t taste like soap to me, as far as I remember anyway, I just don’t like it: it doesn’t taste good. Guacamole tastes like grass generally but that might be me getting bad guac, so we’ll see.
Daisy Johnson as played by Chloe Bennet is another one. I don’t appreciate Chloe Bennet’s defense of Logan Paul ages ago just because she was dating him and I find the character of Daisy Johnson extremely exhausting and she tries my patience.
Hot weather? I know I’m not alone on that one, but I really cannot stand getting hot at all. I start to feel sick if I get too warm. Call it my penguin associations.
Young Adult Romance novels. I did once? But then I think getting in a relationship that is healthier than all my previous ones just made it feel like getting hit in the face with a hammer every time I read one. All hamfisted and put in for the sake of the Twilight effect and I’m not into it. Still love Young Adult books in general, though.
If your pet could talk, what do you think they might say about you?
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My sweet baby
I MISS MY BABY. Seven, my cat, is currently with her ‘father’ in Texas (my best friend, Ezrik) where I used to live with her. We also had a cat named Six who got out one day and (almost) no one believed me until it was too late. I miss her like crazy. Apollo also exists and is sort of my super bitey son who gets out of hand, but I doubt he’d even remember me right now. But let’s see, I have some ideas for the first two.
Seven: Mommy hasn’t made me a fort in ages. Daddy doesn’t do it right. I also miss her bed, she’d just let me take over. AND HER THIGHS. Napping on her thigh and up across her hip so she wouldn’t be able to move was so good… I’m hungry… oh right and the way she’d hold me like a baby for hours until her arms went numb. I love having that kind of power.
Six: She keeps calling me butterbean, does that mean I’m fat? I’ll show her, I’ll lose weight! Now she’s calling me I can’t believe it’s not butterbean… whatever, gonna headbutt her in the knee to say hello… AAHHHHHHH I’M HALFWAY ACROSS THE HOUSE BUT I CAN SENSE SHE’S GETTING CRISS-CROSS APPLESAUCE SOMEWHERE I’MA GET IN THAT LAP. hello.
Name one celebrity crush, past or present.
Jon Bernthal. He’s at the top of my freebies list. I cannot explain to you why but I love his boxer’s previously-broken-nose face and just… ugh. I have a whole list but… uggghhh.
A genie grants you the ability to have infinite amounts of one item. What is it?
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I think that might honestly be enough for now. When your browser starts to lag in writing a post it’s probably time to let it go. Yes, I’m on a less than perfect laptop, but still! If you have any questions you want me to answer leave them in the comments below and maybe I’ll do a part two at some point!
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Hi! So, I absolutely love your series where the MC is the kid of Lucifer, and I was wondering if I could request that with Diavolo and Barbatos? •v•
:0 you definitely can! Right now I’m just doing Diavolo, but Barb’s will be up sometime soon!
MC is Half Demon and Oh Shit They’re Diavolo’s Kid-
Diavolo wasn’t exactly what one would expect of the prince of Hell, I mean, he was suppressing the urge to bounce in his seat from pure excitement. I mean, his exchange program was starting! Humans, demons, and angels, all together, his dream was coming true.
All that was left was for the student to arrive, the portal opened, and the human fell flat on their back. Oof, maybe Diavolo should have set up some kind of landing zone filled with pillows. No matter! The human was-
What peculiar eyes this human had…
Oh… oh dear…
Dad-volo
The MC was his child, no question about it. This was… very unexpected. Well, the entire assembly hall was completely quiet, and the kid looked like they were getting impatient.
“HEY! Mind telling me what the hell is going on?!”
After that, Diavolo launches into his explanation, also the explanation that he’s definitely this kid’s dad. Kid was not impressed, they tried to square up with Diavolo and Lucifer had never been more confused as to what to do.
Well, the moment MC sprouted wings and launched themselves at Diavolo, Dia caught them with one hand and continued speaking like nothing happened.
MC, please calm down… Diavolo didn’t know they existed, let him make it up to them! They’re going to stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle! Dia’s going to be a good dad!
“This feels like the plot to the world’s most messed up fairytale.” MC jammed their hands into their pockets and grumbled. “I get sucked into hell and find out I’m royalty there. Great.”
Diavolo managed to smile and awkwardly reach out to give them a pat on the head, then retracted his hand after the kid shot him a glare. “Well, it’s not a very traditional fairytale, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here.”
“Mm, sure.” MC mumbled.
Okay, so his child wasn’t that enthusiastic about the exchange program, but Diavolo was sure they’d come around.
Dia tried everything he could possibly think of to get his kid to both like him and enjoy their time as an exchange student. A lot of things had… mixed results.
Also, legally recognizing MC as his child and legitimizing them caused a big stink amongst the nobles who were opposed to the exchange program to begin with. So MC then had to deal with a few assassins. Wonderful. Fantastic. Show stopping. Dia, be a good dad and comfort your angsty murder target- I MEAN preteen.
They do manage to build a good relationship fairly quickly despite their less than stellar first impressions, and Diavolo made them a promise that he knew he wouldn’t ever break: he would let them live as normal a childhood as possible.
This means that MC gets to do all the normal kid stuff that Diavolo wasn’t allowed to do. It honestly works out great for everyone. MC gets to live their life, Diavolo gets the satisfaction of knowing that his kid’s having fun, and Barbatos doesn’t need to worry about MC causing chaos in the castle.
Man… does this kid’s magic potential scare the shit out of everyone though…
Tired Uncle Lucifer
No. This has to be a violation of his worker rights. It cannot be legal for him to be this stressed.
He knew this exchange program was a bad idea. LUCIFER FUCKING KNEW IT. This kid was judging him. Why did he suddenly feel self conscious about every single one of his features? This child was picking him apart and they hadn’t even said anything!
He confiscated Asmo’s phone immediately, this was a matter of national security! Satan’s too! Beel as- oh shit Lucifer may have to give Beel the heimlich maneuver, then take his phone.
When all the brothers eventually got back to the HOL, they were greeted with Mammon getting shaken down by Levi.
“Lucifer! Ya won’t believe this! Levi- what’s wrong with you?” “The exchange student is Diavolo’s child.” “What..?” “*pops the cork off a bottle of Demonus* the exchange student’s Diavolo’s child.”
The worst part about this kid was that they took to the privileges of being royalty like a fish to water. MC went out and did whatever the fuck they wanted, and Lucifer needed to make sure a state of national emergency wasn’t called just because MC picked a fight at RAD.
It didn’t help that MC was just so unimpressed with Lucifer. Anytime Lucifer would tell them not to do something they would just raise their eyebrows and challenge his authority without saying a word.
What the fuck.jpg
The things he does for his prince boyfriend…
Cool Uncle Mammon
Huh, so this little pipsqueak is Lord Diavolo‘s kid? Hm, do ya think they’d let him into the royal treasury? No? Okay… lame.
Mammon then decides this kid would be just perfect for scamming people! Who is going to say no to the Crown Prince’s kid? A suicidal person, that’s who!
And the kid is… up for it? Wow, Mammon didn’t even have to grovel! Awesome!
It’s such a shame that Lucifer came in and promptly removed MC from Mammon’s presence. Tsk, killjoy…
Mammon and MC do get along swimmingly after MC stops angsting. Whenever they hang out it’s pure chaos.
And they would have gotten away with it too- wait, they do get away with it. Because who’s going to question the Crown Prince’s kid? >:)
Reclusive Uncle Leviathan
Levi was in the middle of throttling Mammon for his money back when Lucifer burst through the door looking like he had spent over 1000 Grimm on a gacha game only to not get the card he wanted.
And where was that human he said would be staying with them? Huh? The human’s HUH????!!!!
… wack. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped out on that Student Council Meeting…
Either way, ew, new person he needed to talk to. NO THANKS. Well, no thanks until MC started to visit the HOL to hang out with Mammon. Of course those two normies decided to bug him. OF COURSE.
Levi finally snapped when MC loudly proclaimed that they could totally beat Levi in Mario Kart. Haha, NO. Levi challenged the little runt to a 1 v 1 race on Rainbow Road.
Kid lost. Obviously. Rainbow Road is rigged.
Honestly, kid’s alright. Still a total normie, but not completely terrible.
Cat Uncle Satan
Huh, a half human child of the soon to be demon king, how very interesting.
Oh, and just look at Lucifer’s face. :D priceless. Satan wished he was fast enough to get his DDD out to snap a picture, but he wasn’t able to…
But back to MC, oh how very intriguing. How much power do they have in comparison to Diavolo? Will using that power rip their fragile little body apart? Would they learn to control it? Satan was just dying to find out.
His feelings on the child themselves were mixed at best. They were clearly unhappy with the situation and Satan could sympathize, being thrust into a completely new world and then being told you can’t leave and are also royalty? That has to be hard. But this kid was still being an unreasonable little shit.
Satan continued to try and study MC from afar until the kid themselves walked right up to him and half demanded half pleaded for his help in studying for a test.
Not being one to avoid an opportunity to flex how smart he is, Satan agreed to help out. (Nerrrrd)
And honestly, it went well. When the kid wasn’t being a little shit, they were actually quite pleasant to be around.
Overly Affectionate Uncle Asmo
…wut
Listen, when Asmo asked Lucifer to pick a cute human, he didn’t mean cute as in CHILD.
This kid was DIAVOLO’S?! What lucky human had gotten to have the experience of [Jesus Fucking Christ, Asmo I’m not writing what he said for the sake of the nation]
Anyhoo~ little MC just made his heart go “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO CUTE!” They were so cute Asmo could just eat them up!
But they were so mean! That scowl they always had on was going to give them wrinkles and ruin their perfectly cute face!
Sigh, oh well. He can’t manually rearrange people’s expressions. What he can do is take this child shopping. Poor Diavolo was constantly in his RAD uniform, this poor innocent baby shouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.
The kid continued to scowl at everything, but at the same time, their little quips were very entertaining. This little kid spitting verbal venom at anyone who displeased them reminded Asmo of someone… he just couldn’t place who, but they definitely had amazing hair and a cute face :3
Hungry Uncle Beel
Where’s the takeout- I mean human? What’s happening? …are all humans this small? Dang, that’s barely enough for a snack.
So the human’s not going to live with us because they’re not fully human and Diavolo’s kid? Huh. Wild. Anyway, what’s for dinner?
Beel’s not too invested in this drama, he misses Belphie too much to be that interested…
The kid’s weirdly interested in how cool and strong Beel is though. MC tails him to the gym pretty often.
Diavolo and Beel already being gym buddies send tweet-
Since this benevolent little shit likes Beel so much, they decided to take it upon themselves to help with the family drama.
Beel finds that very sweet 🥺
Murder sleepy Uncle Belphie
Oh man… if you thought Belphie was being unfair to L!MC due to their parentage… hoo boy…
When this kid waltzed up the attic steps like they ran the place, Belphie needed to hold himself back from trying to break down the door and throttle this kid.
Pff, of course Diavolo would have a half human kid. Of course.
…kid beat the shit out of him when he tried to kill them. We stan this MC.
After all is said and done, Belphie still isn’t overly fond of MC. They’re brash and rude and only funny 40% of the time. They don’t even like napping 😒
But Beel likes the little runt, so Belphie and MC put up with each other.
Bonus! Your Angelic Uncle Simeon’s Chihuahua
:0 friend!
MC: *speaks*
>:0 not friend! Begone! *throws crucifix*
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opheliawillowbrook · 3 years
Text
How the Cookie Crumbles
To say his brothers fought would be an understatement: They warred. That. That was the better word. However, it was Dick who was the peacemaker among them. The mediator extraordinaire, translating all his brothers’ woes and misunderstandings into less doom-pending transgressions. But to say this unofficial, yet very necessary part he played was tasking was yet another understatement of unspeakable proportions. It was a FUCKING LOT.
“I swear to God, Drake. You and Brown are a special kind of stupid.”
“Shut up, Damian! It’s a good idea!” Tim grumbled in reply.
“Yeah! You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first!”
Dick’s face fell upon hearing the argument and considered turning the other way, but he’d learned the hard way that his lack of interference could result in bloodshed. Damian did have a history of stabbing Tim, and Robin had an impressive body count, according to Jason. I’d better  make sure he doesn’t add two more.
“Well, fuck me and my  entire life,” Dick droned in frustration. “What are you three bitching about now?”
“Damian keeps saying our idea is stupid,” Stephanie tattled.
“Yeah!” Tim added with crossed arms. “He says we lack the fortitude for good ideas!”
“You do!” the current robin exclaimed.
“Damian?”
The youngest batboy rolled his eyes and reasoned, “Listen, I know these two brain donors barely have two brain cells to rub between them—”
“That’s not the only thing they rub!” Jason called from the other room.
Damian again rolled his eyes in contempt and continued, “And I’ve accepted, as a member of this family, that everyone gets to act a little stupid from time to time. However, as much as I would like to respect their commitment to their shared stupidity, I feel as if they are abusing the privilege and it needs to stop before one of them gets hurt.”
“Wow, he actually cares,” Jason added from still in another room.
“Have you been sitting there listening the whole time?” Dick asked, near facepalm.
“Affirmative,” Jason confirmed, entering from the hall.
“And you did nothing to stop them fighting?”
“It’s funnier this way.”
“Do I always have to be the responsible one?”
“Affirmative,” all four said with little thought.
“Okay then,” Dick sighed with reluctance. “Damian, I know you find it hard to accept the choices of others, but you need to understand that free choice and expression is about accepting that others may not make the same choices as you, and that’s okay. It’s the same as you choosing not to take my dating advice and ask Raven out because you’re afraid of rejection—”
“Shut up, Grayson! This isn’t about me!!!” Damian spat.
“Damian has the hots for Raven?” Jason teased. “You have good taste, Mighty Mouse. She got a great—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence, Todd!” Dick and Damian ordered in unison.
“I was gonna say personality,” Jason droned. “Get your minds out of the gutter. I mean for fuck’ sake.”
“Sure you were,” Tim replied with a glower.
“Yeah Tim, cause you never stare at her tits while you talk to her,” Jason added, throwing him doubly under the bus.
“Dude, are you trying to get me killed?” Tim said, shooting an elbow into his brother’s ribs as Damian and Stephanie both glared. Spurring Dick into a further mood for murder.
“My point being is, just because you don’t like other peoples’ ideas, doesn’t mean they’re stupid.”
“Tell them the idea, guys!” Jason urged, stirring the pot.
Stephanie and Tim looked at each other and nodded, as though they’d discovered the holy grail itself. “We’re gonna write a series of YA novels and sell them on the web!” Steph sang optimistically.
“Yeah, it’s a huge and diverse market,” Tim added.
“And with established characters, we’ll make a killing.”
Dick’s brow furrowed. “That sounds like fanfiction?”
“It sounds like utter bullshit,” Damian sneered, not single fuck given.
“It’s not bullshit,” Tim snapped. “YA novels make up a huge portion of the market. People love those things.”
“Then name one YA novel that has sold more than a manga in the last 10 years?”
Tim shrugged. “I can’t think of one at the top of my head, but there they definitely exist and sell.”
“Yeah, so does my fanfiction based on this family,” Jason added under his breath.
“What?” Everyone asked.
“Nothing. Continue.”
“So anyway, I told Damian it’s a foolproof plan.”
Dick rolled his eyes with a bit of doubt, but who was he to judge or discourage their creativity. I mean, he dropped out of college after all? “I’m not saying I believe it’s bulletproof, because frankly, nothing is. But I’m curious why you would consider telling Damian? I mean, he hates most things.”
“And Drake. I hate Drake.”
“We’re all very aware, Dami,” Dick drawled in annoyance. “But yeah, why would you tell him anything important to you? Especially that?”
“Well, we kinda needed a loan. I knew Bruce would undoubtedly say no and, well, Damian has money.”
“Because I make good business decisions.”
“I don’t know why I thought of asking you?”
“You didn’t, Jason told you to,” Stephanie confessed, recalling an earlier conversation.
“Jason, really?” Dick tsked.
“Hey, Damian does make good business decisions. Who do you think cleans and invests money? It’s certainly not Alfred.”
“Because Alfred would have nothing to do with your blood money, Jason. And Damian, I’m very disappointed in you!”
“Grayson, I don’t know what high horse you are riding on today, but you better come off it. Father told me if I wanted money, that I needed to earn it and that I should get a job. So I got one.”
“Laundering money for Red Hood’s criminal Enterprise is not a job!”
“Actually it is. Mighty Mouse made us an LLC and everything. I own several Wash & Folds, all legitimate! Thanks to Hell Spawn here! I’m actually considering making him a partner.”
“So will your LLC fund our YA Novels?”
“Oh fuck no!”
“Come on, Jay! We have a solid business plan,” Stephanie pleased.
“You’re business plan is a bunch of meaningless numbers written on the back of a napkin and poorly illustrated versions of us,” Damian said, holding up the napkin in question.
“Okay, so it’s not the final draft, but we’re working on it!” Tim said pointedly.
“Yeah, as tempting as this all sounds, I didn’t make my money making half baked business decisions,” Jason reasoned
“No, you made it by taking over Gotham’s drug trade,” Dick clarified with disapproval.
“Which was a solid business decision.”
“Why do I even talk to you?”
“I don’t know why I talk to any of you,” Damian scowled, arms crossed, grateful there was no shared genetics between him and his adoptive kin. “I don’t understand what father saw in any of you.
“I can’t answer that,” Jason replied. “However, I can tell you, from personal experience, what he saw in your mom.”
“Do you wanna die, Todd?”
“Do you wanna not have a job?” Jason wanted. “Also, been there done that. But hey, if I died twice then I’d have buffy status so don’t threaten me with a good time, kid.”
“On that note, I’m leaving,” Damian grimaced. “I have to meet Raven, anyway.”
“Oh,” Dick sang. “You have a date!”
“It’s not a date.”
“Bet you wish it was a date,” Stephanie teased. “Y’know, if you just stopped acting like a dick all the time, I bet she’d go out with you.”
“Shut up, Brown.”
“Oh no,” Dick smiled. “I know it’s hard to believe, but he’s nice to Raven.”
“Hey keep that shit up,” Jason added. “If you’re nice to her, she’d be nice to you!”
“I hate all of you,” Damian proclaimed and stormed away.
“Fuck you too! See you at work Monday! Jason called, earning a tiger middle finger.
“He might be an asshole, but he’s a good kid,” Jason nodded with a sense of pride, causing to Dick to silently scoff. “Still needs to get laid though.”
“Bruce is gonna be so pissed when he finds out you pulled Dami into your bullshit.”
“You’re using Raven’s pet name for him now?” Jason mocked. “And fucker’s gonna have to prove it first; there’s a reason I hired ‘Dami’ for that job.”
“Dude, fuck you; dig your grave,” Dick lamented. “And don’t come at me with one of your tired ass death jokes, they’re getting old.”
“Suit yourself,” the Outlaw glowered as silence set in.
“So Dick,” Tim dared sheepishly. “You, um, wanna invest in--”
“Absolutely not,” the elder hero replied.
Leaving Jason to chuckle. “And that’s the way the cookie crumbled.”
If you enjoyed that feel free to leave me kudos 👉 here on Ao3 lol. If you have any remdom prompts send them my way; maybe I’ll feel inspired 😘
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dustofbrokenheart · 3 years
Text
The Lost Boys: Summer Nights
Dwayne x Reader
Word Count: 987
Summary: Dwayne and reader enjoy a summer night walk on the beach.
Fingers intertwined tightly and swung in the middle of the two of you. You were walking, filling Dwayne in on what had happened during your day.
It was a common occurrence. Not only were you an item, but it was often cathartic for you to vent about your life and it was nice for Dwayne to listen to what happened during the day of a normal life, emphasis on the day part.
Knowing that, you made to sure to describe the sky in between the events of your story.
“The sun radiant today, downright simmering but there was a breeze, which was nice because I didn’t completely sweat through my shirt when I walked to grab lunch. But can you believe that when I got back, Margaret had me…”
Dwayne smiled, a little gentle lift of his lips, as he listened to you. On most summer nights, he brought you to the beach. Ocean waves crashed in the background as you walked an isolated part of the beach.
Your voice was passionate yet it never failed to sooth him. By that point, he was so familiar with your work situation that he knew every single person. He knew their personalities, their motivations, and, most importantly, which of them you liked and which you disliked.
Margaret was firmly in the dislike category.
Despite knowing how you would react, he still offered. “I could always take care of her for you.”
Your eyes were pleased but you made sure to firmly set him straight. “I keep telling you, Dwayne. You can’t go around offing people that make my life difficult.”
He shrugged, his heavy leather jacket riding up his exposed stomach. “As long as you know the offer is there.”
Bumping your head into his shoulders in an attempt to hide your face, you instead squeezed his hand.
You were sure that if your well being and safety ever was in jeopardy, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill for you. It was a strangely sweet and a little problematic, but you chose to focus on the sweet part and not what it said about you.
“Any way, she claimed that it would—” You were caught by surprise when Dwayne swept you up, bridal style, and rushed toward the water. It didn’t take long to realize what he was up to.
“Dwayne!” you screamed. “Do not, dump me—”
Once again, you were cut off as you were submerged in cool, salty water. In the night, it was impossible for you to make out anything, the ocean seeming like an endless inky void. It lasted only moments until you were gasping as Dwayne pulled you up.
He was laughing. Your clothes were suctioned skin-tight to your body and your hair was plastered into your face, and he was laughing.
“Looked like you needed to cool down,” he tried to say in between laughs. “You were getting pretty worked up.”
In a small act of revenge, you splashed water into his face. You weren’t legitimately mad but you’d be damned if you were the only one who got soaked.
“Guess I deserved that,” he said, gently stroking your cheeks.
Carrying you to the sand with water trailing behind, he deposited you on the ground and crawled in behind you. Words weren’t needed as you laid there together under the dim light of the moon.
Until you shivered, that is. It may have been summer but it still got cold after the sun went down, especially when you were dripping water.
“Shit,” he murmured, arms wrapping around you even tighter. “Sorry. I should’ve known you’d get cold.”
You tried your best to soothe him with soft kisses to his stubbled chin. “It won’t kill me, I just need to warm up a bit.”
Reading the thinly disguised ploy for more kisses, he gladly indulged you. 
Hefting himself up onto his forearms, his dipped down in a practiced motion, chasing your lips with his own. They were a little chapped and his stubble poked at your chin, but it didn’t matter.
Kissing Dwayne was always an experience.
His mouth was smooth, the weight of him grounding where he pressed down on your front. You didn’t even care that your hair was about to be caked in sand, you thought as you gripped his forearms, the muscle flexing under your touch.
Peeking through your lashes, you saw his eyes burn the tell-tale mottled yellow that signaled his vampiric instincts, as well as the fact that he was really turned on. Eyelids fluttering shut again, you pressed even deeper into the kiss, doing that thing with your tongue that drove him wild in anticipation that things were about to heat up even more.
That is until he pulled back, sucking on your bottom lip as he left you panting. “Better?”
“Better,” you replied dreamily. His soft breath stirred your damp hair as he stroked it off your face, snuggling you closer. You nestled in, muscles completely warmed and still trembling.
It seemed like he was done for now though, no matter how you tried to entice him. Damn him for knowing how much you actually would complain about the sand if he managed to get you naked.
“Good. Wanna talk about Margaret some more?” he asked teasingly.
“Yep. Mood’s completely gone. Please don’t bring her up when we do these kinds of things, it makes we want to recoil in horror.”
“Good,” he said again. Your brows raised in disbelief which he tried to smooth back down with his thumb. “Because I was thinking, if you wanted to, we could head to your place to continue. A bed is…less sandy.”
Catching on quickly, you nodded. A bed. A bed sounded good. Excellent even.
Peels of laughter tore out of you and echoed along the coast as he scooped you up and started running. He moved a lot faster than you could, after all.
Summer nights, really were the best.
_______________
I wanted to write something short and sweet for my favorite boy before my birthday month is up. Hope you enjoyed reading! Thanks for checking it out! 
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asset35-maya · 3 years
Text
REED900 LOVE LANGUAGES:
1) ACTS OF SERVICE
Gavin Reed was a simple man. He always said and did what he thought was right. He never bothered with niceties and took a very practical approach to the relationships in his life. No frills, no fancy gestures.
He showed the people around him that he cared by just being there unconditionally. He was ride or die. If you ever needed him, personally or professionally, Gavin would show up. No questions asked.
Feelings were not matters he delved into very often. He kept them well hidden if he could help it. But the lack of expressiveness didn’t bother the people who dared to get close enough. They knew exactly who he was and they appreciated him deeply.
For years, this was the way things were.
And then Gavin met Nines.
For the first time, he felt a powerful, pressing need to externalise his emotions. Like he’d burst if he didn’t find some way of expressing the passion that threatened to consume him from within.
Gavin had never given into sentimentality before. He had never let himself dwell on romanticism. So at first, he didn’t know what to do with himself.
He definitely couldn’t talk about it (just thinking about it made him want to empty a bucket of ice water on his head). He considered writing (because his therapist told him that documenting mental journeys could be a helpful exercise), but he completely lacked the vocabulary (and just ended up sketching pair after pair of piercing blue eyes in his diary).
After a while, he decided to fall back on what he knew best… what he did best.
Gavin Reed was a man of action.
If someone was important to him, he made sure they damn well knew it.
So it came to be that Nines and Gavin’s paperwork was always done on time… that the office fridge was always replete with thirium packs… that Nines’ dry cleaning was always picked up for him and laid neatly on his chair (“The laundry’s two blocks from my place and two from here, Tincan. It’s not a big deal.”)
2)GIVING GIFTS
And then the boxes began to appear.
Cuff links. Cologne. Cravats.
(“I just saw it in the store window and had an impulse. It ain’t my style, but I know you can pull it off so here ya go.”)
And then flowers. Actual fucking flowers.
(“What? It brightens the place up.”)
Nines eventually took mercy on him and asked him out. The massive bouquet that greeted him the next day had all the receptionist androids gossiping for weeks. Things actually got a lot worse before Nines hacked into the bank and cancelled Gavin’s credit card.
(“Now how am I gonna show you how phcking special you are to me?”
“Just spend time with me, Gavin. That would mean the world.”)
3)QUALITY TIME
Gavin took it upon himself to share every facet of his life with the android. He couldn’t always figure out how to tell the different parts of his story, but he found ways to show it.
Gavin took Nines to his elementary school and showed him the yard he spent many happy hours playing cops and robbers. He took him to his childhood home… the Police Academy… the scenes of his first few homicide cases.
He also made sure Nines understood exactly what people meant when they said Gavin was the life of the party. Reliving the human’s youth, they crashed local frat parties and kissed in the middle of thronging music festival crowds.
4)PHYSICAL TOUCH
And then there was the sex.
What Gavin still did not know how to put into words, he demonstrated physically.
Regardless of which position they ended up in, Nines found himself mainly on the receiving end of pleasure. The kisses peppered onto his collarbone were nothing short of reverent. The tongue sliding against his nether regions… the hands gripping his hipbones… the soft caresses of his face… were all deliberate acts of devotion.
Gavin himself didn’t know he had it in him. For most of his teen and adult years, he had the reputation of being a selfish lover. Of always coming first, and then finding some half-assed way to get his partner off.
But with Nines,he was careful to a fault.
He treated each chance to touch the android as a special privilege. He was exceedingly generous… gentle… slow, even… until Nines made it loud and clear that his body was Gavin’s for the taking.
It wasn’t just in the bedroom that Gavin poured his heart into the sensation of touch. From a casual flick of fingers against Nines’ cheek… to a lingering hand on his thigh… and a rather lengthy good morning kiss in the break-room, Gavin became prone to PDA that he had spent most of his life judging others for.
He legitimately could not keep his hands off his partner. Even his colleagues’ eye rolls and teasing didn’t stop him. Not when Nines would immediately lean into his side and reciprocate.
The feeling of skin on skin, the warmth and weight of a strong hand… and in Nines’ case, the high quality tactile sensor data… were what kept them grounded and anchored.
5)WORDS OF AFFIRMATION
For an emotionally repressed man and an android without a built-in social program, they communicated pretty well.
The odd disagreement was unavoidable, but for the most part, they managed well. Neither was ever in doubt of how the other felt.
It had started small. With gratitude.
“Thanks for picking up my white shirt from the cleaners. You’re a lifesaver.”
“That smells amazing. How do you always know exactly what I want to eat.”
Then it moved onto deep compliments.
“That’s incredible. It wouldn’t have occurred to me at all. I’d be lost without you, Gavin.”
“You’re the first person I’ve met who doesn’t just nod and pretend like they understand what I’m saying. You never agree to something to just humour me or get me to shut up. Even if it doesn’t make sense in the beginning, you always get to the bottom of what I wanna say… and well damn… how’d I get so lucky, babe?”
The daily check ins… the thank yous… the random “you’re so phcking hot”… the “I’m listening”… all added up.
And when the time finally came…
one rainy Sunday afternoon in bed, with Nines sprawled across his chest while he ran his hands through his hair…
Gavin couldn’t remember why he’d ever struggled with the words.
“I love you.”
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mourntheantagonist · 3 years
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#HarringroveApril Day 16: Nostalgia
***
When Billy signed those discharge papers, piled into his dented Camaro and headed west towards the sunset despite the screaming redhead banging on the windows crying “please don’t go!”, with an aching chest both metaphorical and physical, he didn’t think for a second about looking back.
So how he ended up back in the same shithole he turned his back on ten years ago was entirely beyond him.
He had made a life for himself in California. He got his associates degree at the local community college and worked his way up from a nine to five teller position at the local bank all the way to branch manager, making an upper middle class salary. It was easy work. Boring work, unfulfilling work, but easy and worth every penny. He had a couple of friends, mostly coworkers, more so acquaintances than friends. He had a fancy apartment in the city, he went on dates, though they usually ended in one night stands where the other guy snuck out in the dark hours of the morning leaving Billy to sleep in a bed that was just too big for one person. But he was free from all of those forces in his life that always held him back and pinned him down, and each and every one of those forces just reeked of small town America.
He hadn’t heard a peep out of Hawkins since Max had given up on calling around eight years ago, or at least he hoped that she’d given up and something worse hadn’t happened to her. He regretted not answering those calls everyday. The guilt of leaving her behind like that weighed heavy like an anchor, but he did it anyway. Bad decision after bad decision he was surprised he made it to where he had today, and he just wished she’d call again.
But he also wasn’t sure enough of himself that anything would change if she did, and that phone would likely remain on the hook until the ringing stopped and she was left to the sound of his voicemail.
“You’ve reached Billy Hargrove. Leave a message.”
He wasn’t home the day she finally did call, which fortunately took that decision away from him. Her message was tossed in with a mix of telemarketers and employees calling in for days off, it could have easily been dismissed, passed over like every other piece of junk in the system if her voice hadn’t been exactly the same as it was the day he left her.
“Hey Billy, it’s Max. I know you probably don’t give a shit, but Neil died of a heart attack last night…” Billy stopped listening after the words ‘Neil died’ came over the speaker. He had to replay the message to hear the rest because by the time he’d gathered himself it had already ended. “...the funeral is next Saturday in Hawkins. Nobody expects you to come but I thought you should know anyway and that everyone would still like to see you. Call me back at…” Billy wrote the number on the back of a blockbuster receipt and set it flat on the counter quickly with a firm hand and a quick retraction, like it might burn him. Max’s name and a ten digit number below it in a blue ballpoint pen stared back at him and he just drummed his fingers on the counter and bit his lip trying to think everything over.
He looked at it for probably another thirty minutes while the rest of the voicemails cycled through in the background before he decided to make a call of his own. Slowly and shaking, he dialed the phone number and tried to even out his breathing while he waited for the sound of the pick up. He was partially hoping that it never came.
But it did. The click sound was followed by a voice that didn’t belong to Max, but one he still recognized.
“Hello?”
Billy took in a deep breath. “Hi. This is Billy.”
“Wow, I’m surprised you actually called.”
Billy huffed and if it had been ten years earlier he would have already hung up the phone by now.
“Who is this?”
“Lucas Sinclair. I take it you want to talk to Max?”
Billy tensed at the mention of her name, as if that hadn’t been the whole plan in the first place. “Yeah,” he said, a little bit of shakiness to his voice, “could you put her on?”
After a few short moments of silence and a little bit of movement in the background, he heard her.
“Hey Billy.” she sounded… glad… and it made Billy let out a heavy sigh of relief.
“Hey Maxine.”
“It’s Max.” There was that tone, she hadn’t changed at all.
“Yeah, I know.” There was a pause, Billy twirled the phone cord around this index finger to the point it started going pink and then purple while he tried to get the question to leave the tip of his tongue. “So, he’s really dead?” he asked, blunt as ever.
“Yeah. I don’t expect you to want to come for the funeral, but I just thought you should know, and if you need a place to stay you can– hold on one second” Billy could hear muffled bickering and Max yelling ‘Lucas Sinclair’ through clenched teeth and it brought a smile to his face. It reminded him of all those times he’d eavesdrop on her phone calls with him just to piss her off, just to hear her yell at him through their shared wall before she’d chase him around the house. Those were good days. “As I was saying. You can stay here if you need. We have a spare room.”
“Thanks for the offer.”
“I really hope you decide to come.”
“We’ll see.” He was just about to hang the phone back up, but he stopped himself, “Hey Max?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s nice hearing the sound of your voice again.”
Billy wound up taking the week off and driving that same old Camaro, restored back to its former glory, that did the distance twice before, back over to Indiana, to the place he said he’d never go back to, and he really couldn’t figure out the reason why he didn’t just go into work. There was nothing to drive him to go but the weird feeling in his gut that refused to go away until he called in, and a little bit of that pressure was released.
For each freeway exit he came across on the over thousand mile journey he contemplated turning around, getting back on that on-ramp going the other direction and save himself from whatever hell he’d be walking into.
Because that’s what Hawkins was to him. Hell. There were monsters like his father, and then there were real, legitimate monsters as well and Billy wasn’t safe from either of them, well he was safe from one now. He couldn’t imagine why Max decided to stay in the shithole and not get out like he did.
Maybe that’s what makes him the coward.
The welcome to Hawkins sign gave him chills. He remembered seeing that for the first time, following behind the rickety Uhaul pulled by their beat up truck when Billy decided not to follow them into their next turn, and instead got lost on the “scenic route” of Hawkins which really meant “trees, trees, and more trees” when he hit the Quarry’s dead end and nearly went off the cliff into the water below.
At the time he might’ve thought it would have been better if he had.
A lot of things had looked to have changed about the town since the last time he saw it. Places that he remembered being nothing but vast forests now had neighborhoods and restaurant chains and the place that once had a natural canopy was now completely deforested and exposed to the sun.
But the Quarry was exactly the same as he left it.
From the beer cans crushed and scattered, to the sounds of gravel pieces bouncing up and chipping the paint on his car.
The continuities continued to add up when he stepped foot out of the car, pulling on that same old denim jacket he hadn’t worn in years after trading it in for a suit and tie. His boot hit the gravel path just like it always had, with that same stomp that demanded attention, like each time he got out of that car he had to play into the dramatics, put on the mask and play the part he chose for himself. The breeze and the smell, it was all the same as before, as if the industrialization just several blocks north hadn’t had any effects on this little corner of the town where the birds still sang their songs in harmony and the smell of nature was pungent. It felt like no time had passed at all.
But it had been the sound of a rumbling BMW rolling down the crushing gravel that made him feel exactly like he was back in highschool again, the same rotten kid who used fists as forms for problem solving, the kid who as an adult had worked on his impulsivity, standing there, staring up the gentle slope with his fists clenched so tight his fingernails left marks on his palms. All that work, all that progress he thought he’d gone through, thrown straight out the window at just the mere sight of something from his past.
The BMW pulled up beside him, and the quarry apparently wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed. Steve still had the same big swooped back hair and that same exact look on his face when they made eye contact through the passenger window, the same exact look he had the day he told him he was leaving, and screamed at him to get out of his hospital room.
That was the last time they spoke.
Steve got out of the car without a word and just leaned against the door, looking him up and down, and Billy didn’t feel like he had any right to say the first word, considering he’d had the last one.
“It’s good to see you Billy.” Steve broke the silence, and it was almost startling, with both the sudden change of volume, and the sound of that voice he’d almost forgotten singing in his head like a song he didn’t remember learning the lyrics to.
“Is it?” Because it felt like it was all just a formality coming out of his mouth.
He wasn’t expecting an answer to that, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve changed the subject. It was oddly refreshing seeing Steve write the script this time, steering the conversation his way.
“Looks like we both kept our old wheels,” he said, slapping the top of his car twice, maybe a little too hard. The sound of a hand against metal echoed through the trees. “though there’s not as many dents from what I remember.”
“I had it restored.”
The majority of Steve’s body was hidden behind the car that separated the two of them, but he could see in the way that his shoulders moved that his hands had found his own hips, doing that same stance of a mother who just caught their kid in the act of something naughty. “Some good memories happened in that car.”
“Some bad ones too. Or do I need to remind you how the dents got there in the first place?” Billy crossed his arms over his chest, as if the thousand pound chunk of metal that served as a barrier wasn’t enough to protect him. Because it felt like Steve could see directly through him with the way his head tilted when Billy threw his words back at him. Because they both knew that it was horseshit. Memories of whatever happened between Steve and the Camaro existed only in the dents that remained and the neck pain that still lingered. He didn’t actually hold any grudge about that, and he never did.
Because Steve was right. There had been good memories in that car, some he didn’t remember until seeing him again, some that still played in his mind when he went to sleep at night. Maybe that was the reason he kept it around for so long, that one piece that contained all of those few good times, all of those times with Steve.
“You were always so good at that.”
“What?”
“Deflecting. Pushing people away.”
Billy opened his mouth to defend himself, but there was nothing that came out but his own breath, but Steve filled that silence anyway before Billy would have even had the opportunity to speak.
“You cut your hair.”
It was like he was being interrogated.
“Company policy, they practically had to strap me down and take the clippers to my head themselves.”
Steve actually laughed, and it seemed genuine at least. Billy pulled out the pack of red that he always kept on the seat like it was muscle memory. His hands would only ever stop shaking when he had that little stick between his fingers, and they were only shaking more since Steve got out of that car.
“You still smoke?”
Billy put the cigarette in between his lips and lit up, pausing for a nice drag before bothering to answer Steve. Just letting his eyes fall shut and experience just a short moment of relaxation.
“Some old habits never die”
Steve pursed his lips. Every single one of his mannerisms were exactly the same. This one meant that he wanted to say something that he didn’t know if he should.
“Was I just an old habit too?”
“Steve–”
Steve just kicked the side of his car with his knee, sure to leave a dent of his own. The sound was loud enough that the consistent stream of chirping birds transformed into a cascade of flapping wings as the birds on the trees flew away from the scene. He walked around to the front of his car and the physical object that once created separation was gone, and suddenly Steve was within reach and he couldn’t breathe.
“Glad to know it’s harder to quit nicotine than it was to quit me!”
Billy chucked his lit cigarette at the ground and scuffed it with his heel into the gravel. “Who told you it was easy?!” He had a finger pointed to Steve and had closed their distance a few feet more, less than an arms length apart from each other.
“You left!”
“Because I had to! You know I did!”
“You didn’t have to leave me!” Steve practically screamed that final word, his face was now just inches away from Billy’s and he was nearly foaming at the mouth and from an outsider's perspective, Steve looked about two seconds from either kissing him, or killing him.
He did neither. He took a step back and recollected himself with a dramatic clearing of his throat. “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”
“And you don’t think I regret that every fucking day of my life?” Billy’s voice broke, trembling throughout the sentence like he was containing a ticking time bomb. “Why are you even here?”
Steve just rolled his eyes at the steer. “Max sent me.”
“Of course she fucking did.”
“She cares about you y’know.” Billy scoffed, because how could she? After all he did to her? He could still hear those palms banging against those windows and her muffled screams for her to stay every time he got into that car. “Why are you here?”
“Did she not tell you the part where my dad died?”
“I know damn well you didn’t come all this way to pay your respects.”
Billy let himself drop to the ground and sit on the rough terrain with his back against his tire, unable to continue standing, his legs were ready to betray him.
“I have no idea why I’m here, okay? I just am.”
Steve nodded his head, and he didn’t say anything, no quip back in his face, he just followed Billy to the ground.
“Are you upset he’s gone?”
Billy let out a groan and tried to rub the growing migraine from his temples.
“I’m feeling a lot of things, but I don’t think ‘upset’ is one of them.” Neither of them said anything after that. They just sat there on the ground and enjoyed the silence together like they used to do. Looking up at the clouds and arguing over what shape they were. There’d be none of that today though, and it had nothing to do with the overcast skies. “You still keep a six pack in your trunk?”
Steve laughed and got up from where he was seated and popped the trunk. He was right. Some old habits never fucking die.
Steve tossed a can over to Billy and sat back down on the gravel, maybe a little closer than he had been before. Billy took a long swig and swallowed the bitter taste down. He hadn’t drank much since he was a teenager, he traded in his Coors for Cola and he doesn’t understand how he used to enjoy the taste of it before.
“Why did you stay in Hawkins?”
Steve dug his heel and pushed a pile of rocks forward, kicking a plume of dust into the air.
“Nobody ever gave me a reason to leave.”
Billy wanted to ask if he would have even come with him had he asked him to. But he opted against it, instead just taking another drink from the can and a genuine “I’m sorry.” passed his lips.
“You know I followed you?”
“What?”
“Yup. Made it all the way to St. Louis before I turned around.”
Billy was just staring at him at this point, unsure if he’d just heard him right. He just sat there with his mouth agape, catching flies and waiting for Steve to say more.
“I knew that you needed to go. I knew that you were hurting and it took me almost ten hours on the open road to realize that you needed time to heal.” Steve’s eyes looked glossy and his cheeks flushed but he kept his smile on. “So I came back home, and I waited here for you to come back. I wanted to make myself easy to find when you needed me.”
“You waited for me?”
Steve inched his hand over to where Billy’s was propping himself up and let his fingers gently trace the back of his hand. Steve’s touch was everything. It made his heart start racing and his palms start sweating and it felt just like 1985 all over again.
Billy took Steve’s hand in his own and entwined their fingers together and Billy let out a long exhale as they did.
“Billy,” Steve said softly, scooting his body just a little bit closer, less than a foot of separation now between the two of them, and he looked Billy in the eyes. Billy had almost gotten entirely lost in those pools of deep brown before Steve had the chance to speak again. But he heard it, loud and clear. “I’m still waiting for you.”
He waited.
Waited ten fucking years.
Billy wasn’t going to make him sit there and wait for a kiss too.
Billy closed the distance at the moment the penny dropped, sinking all of his weight into the kiss in a frantic and uneven pace just like they were eighteen again trying to squeeze both of their bodies into the backseat of the Camaro, refusing for even a second to separate themselves from the one point of contact that sealed them together like glue. The kiss felt just like their first. In the same spot, instead under the stars and the two of them both drunk off their asses, and that time Billy tasted of only blood and liquor.
But it was that same feeling. That desire to never pull away, that fear that it would end and that it would be the last time. He had that fear with everyone of Steve and his kisses, that each one might just be their last.
So he made a point to savor all of them.
They kissed until they physically couldn’t anymore. Out of breath with swollen lips and an inability stop the smiles that peeked through every couple of seconds. They sat there with their foreheads touching and their clasped hands still intact, relishing in the heat that was each other’s breath on their faces. Billy was crying, just streams of tears paired with a smile that Steve gently wiped away with his thumb, the brush of contact making him shiver.
“I missed you so fucking much.”
Steve cradled Billy’s head in his hands and peppered a few short kisses to his lips.
“I missed you too.”
“You think this is why Max invited me here?” Billy asked. “I can’t imagine she’d actually think I would want to come to this thing.”
Steve laughed. “No. She’s not an idiot. She figured you’d want to crash the funeral.”
Billy immediately got up from his place on the ground and held his other hand out for Steve to grab onto. “Well you wanna join me while I go piss on my old man’s grave?”
Steve took his hand without hesitation and let Billy pull him up off the ground.
“It would be my honor.”
Hawkins made a lot of bad memories for Billy, most of which he locked somewhere far away, but the good still remained. Right there in the look on Steve’s face with the way he looked back at him.
And he was happy to make a couple more.
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Meeting and Dating Charlie MacKenzie
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(Not my gif)(Requested by @jotaro-spengler​)
(Sorry this post took so long. I literally changed the entire meeting story last minute because I’m an indecisive perfectionist so it took a lot longer to write than expected. Hope you enjoy!)
- You and Charlie getting together was really all Tony’s fault. He just had to go and mention you: shine the spotlight in Charlies mind right on you and say look here you fool, a beautiful woman who you already care about and who already cares about you.
- That wasn’t really how it happened of course. All Tony had actually done was say something along the lines of “now take a look at my sister-”, using you as an example in some scenario he came up with rather than giving his friend a recommendation. 
- But, in Charlie’s half listening mind, all he heard was “take a look at my sister” and take a look he did. 
- You were a little younger; which tended to be the case when it came to younger sisters of friends that were his age, and you were pretty. You had a nice personality, you thought he was funny on occasion, and you weren’t a total stranger who he could easily find a flaw; that he didn’t already know about, in. 
- Why not give it a shot? Worst case scenario, you say no or he breaks your heart and loses his best friend in the future. But hey, it was Tony’s idea to begin with, right?
- So he visits you at work, making small talk; as per usual since this was a fairly normal occurrence for the two of you, before trying to ask you out as casually as he could. 
- Initially, you think that you’ve misunderstood him or that he’s misspoken, then you think that he joking, …and then you just think he’s gone crazy. You quite literally ask him if he’s feeling alright because it’s so out of the blue and unexpected.
- But, once you come to terms with the fact that this is a legitimate request, …you agree. 
- I mean, it’s not like the idea never popped into your head. You’ve known the guy since middle school: of course you’d considered it; though you’d never imagined that it would actually come to fruition. 
- Nevertheless, here you were, giving each other somewhat awkward smiles and arranging a time and place. 
- Your first date is initially going to be just a regular dinner at some diner down the street that the two of you; and your brother, often frequented but you quickly find that it just feels wrong to go there: like the two of you are still just two friends. 
- So you scratch that idea and find yourselves wandering around town, buying some food from a street vendor and taking in the atmosphere of the night. What started out as a; frankly, uncomfortable first date ends up turning into one of the best you’ve ever had.
- It’s no surprise that the two of you get along. The question is whether or not you fit as a couple so; regardless of whether or not you’d normally do it, you decide to have your first kiss before the night is over to test out the romantic chemistry between you. 
- It may not be the most romantic first kiss in the world; considering the fact that you literally both talk about and agree to it like it’s some sort of business deal or logical course of action, but you enjoy it nonetheless and it gives the two of you some clarity. 
- He likes you and you like him and the two of you are happy together. You just hope that it lasts....
- Charlie really doesn’t care about what other people think, in fact, he sort of likes to bother and gross people out so he never minds engaging in a bit of pda. If he feels like kissing the hell out of you, he’s gonna do it; regardless of whether or not there’s people around. 
- Interlocked arms or holding onto his arm as the two of you walk together. He likes having you close to him so literally securing you to his side by your arm is a helpful form of affection. 
- Handholding. He’ll usually swing your arms back and forth whenever you do. 
- Cheek kisses. He’s a fan of both giving and receiving them so it definitely goes both ways. 
- Excited, feverish, and passionate kisses. You tend to just lay one on each other at random; oftentimes catching the other person a little off-guard, so these types of kisses are pretty common in your relationship. 
- Kissing in the rain; sometimes with him kicking his leg up in the air behind him. 
- He tends to just call you by your given name; or a teasing nickname on occasion. He finds that using pet names just aren’t his thing and that a lot of them cause him to roll his eyes more than anything else. 
- The two of you really don’t have a “usual” cuddling position since you tend to just do whatever feels right or makes the most sense. Some days you cuddle with your head on his arm, other days he’s the big spoon, and sometimes you’re the big spoon. 
- Back scratches and shoulder kisses. 
- Taking baths together. 
- You know the meme about the person getting into their partners shower fully clothed so that they can ask them a question? That’s the type of shit that he does constantly. Sometimes you just have to sit back and consider the fact that you may be dating either an idiot or a crazy person. 
- Getting his help when you’re trying to pick out your outfits. 
- Going to his open mic nights. 
-  Having poems written about you. …They’re pretty bad....
- If you're dating Charlie, you have to stop caring about how other people view you because there’s no way you’re not going to do; at least a few, ridiculous things out in public together. The two of you are constantly doing dumb shit so just try to ignore any judgmental looks you may or may not receive. 
- Chasing each other around and playing other childish games. 
- Frolicking and dancing like children of the night~
- Double dates with Tony and his girlfriends. 
- Diner dates. 
- Wandering around the city together. 
- Buying from different street vendors and food trucks. 
- Cruising around town with his top down and the radio turned to your favorite station. 
- Sitting out on his roof with him. 
- He loves seeing you smile so expect a lot of dumb jokes and comments that are meant to make you laugh. 
- Teasing each other. You like to call him “nice” just to mess with him. 
- Convincing him to do different things with you. You know that it wasn’t his idea to go on that Alcatraz tour with Tony so it’s safe to say that he can be persuaded into accompanying you just about anywhere. 
- Taking different classes together; though you probably shouldn’t take him to those sorts of things …for the sake of your teachers sanity. 
- Getting visited at work. He’ll always insist that he was “in the neighborhood” but he absolutely was not and totally drove all the way over just to see you. 
- Speaking of work: he would definitely offer to help you with whatever task you had to do just to ease your workload and spend more time with you. It would also probably get him into the good graces of your boss so the man/woman would be a lot more lenient with him hanging around. 
- Finding your own ways to quiet his rambling. He tends to just keep talking whenever he’s nervous or feeling shy so you’ll have to learn the best way to quiet him whenever he gets like that; which usually means you’ll be kissing him or saying something he wants to hear. 
- Telling each other stories. His are usually exaggerated to an outrageous degree but you never really mind; it’s sort of more amusing to see where his brain takes him than to just listen to a normal story.   
- Family get togethers. You’ll usually sit in the kitchen with him and his mother while Tony and his father watch some sports game in the living room. 
- Interesting interactions with his family; namely his father. The man’s a little hard to get along with but he’s certainly entertaining. 
- He'll always check on you before leaving you alone, making sure you’re okay before he ditches you to do something; even if it’s just using the rest room for a minute. 
- Him getting advice from Tony. Regardless of whether or not you want to picture yourself as the mans sister, he’s going to be your best ally when it comes to surviving your relationship; so you might want to get on his good side if you weren't already.
-  Having to get through his sabotage stage. 
- Charlie tends to get scared and break up with people when things are getting too serious so don’t be surprised if; or when, it happens to you. The good thing is that, if it’s meant to be, he’ll come to his senses and dedicate himself towards getting you back; usually with some big cute gesture. 
- Just not feeling like yourself? No problem! He’ll be completely understanding and accept that you just aren’t happy; all while doing whatever he can to put a little pep in your step. 
- He’s not an incredibly jealous person but he is cautious. He’ll never refuse to let you hang out with someone or do something but he will keep an eye on your relationships with other guys. Not because he doesn’t trust you but because he doesn’t want you winding up in an awkward position because you couldn’t see the red flags of encroaching romance. 
- He’s somewhat protective of you; oftentimes sticking out his own neck to save yours. Although he’ll usually; awkwardly, try to settle things in a peaceful manner after an aggressive outburst at someone or something; usually because he only then realizes how big and threatening they are. 
- The two of you fake fight every now and again but real fights only happen once in a blue moon. You get along incredibly well so it isn’t often that you can’t settle things in a peaceful manner; especially since he approaches you very calmly whenever he has a problem. 
- Because most of his issues with you are reasonable, fights usually end before they even begin. But if they don’t and you wind up having a legitimate argument or fight, he’s always willing to apologize; especially since he’ll feel extremely guilty for upsetting you. 
- He mainly shows you that he loves you but he definitely isn’t opposed to saying the actual words. 
- As afraid of marriage as he normally is, he actually proposes to you pretty quickly. I guess when you know you know? 
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mxvladdy · 3 years
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I can't stress enough 'wows' in tve way you write along with the fact that it's you first few posts (i think? Pls correct me) can you do luci mammon and satan with a reader who takes naps bc of overthinking? They just tug their sleeves and shot them a tired look, while looking down shying away. Also, have a nice day and take the time to be yourself!
Aw thanks fam! I am fairly new to posting my works, I tried twice before this with two different writing blogs but I deleted them both bc I felt discouraged. I’m older now and I feel a lot better about my writing, so third time the charm and all that lol! I’m so glad you like my writing! I know I need some work on grammar and expanding my vocabulary.  
This was a super cute prompt ;.; I hope I did it justice!
Lucifer
He is a mix of jealous and pissed. He wishes he could fall asleep so easily when he gets inundated with too many things at once. But also- just don’t do that? Where were your manners?
He starts noticing your little peculiarity in class. Specifically that you tend to nod off in advance alchemy and rune scripting. You were being so studious, jotting down notes, ask great questions. Next thing he knows you're out like a light.
He is shocked for a moment before he will wake you up. Your wide doe-eyed frown does nothing to him. JK his hearts clench at your wounded look.
He makes the other brothers report to him about your behavior and odd sleep habit. Were you ill? Was this just something humans did? Devils, was Belphie rubbing off on you?
They all say the same thing. One moment you are working hard or talking to them about a topic you are passionate about, and the next you are yawning hard enough to pop your jaw and shyly asking to lay down.
Well-he can’t have that.
If you are going to fall asleep around anyone it’s going to be him.
He sets up remedial lessons with you after dinner to make up for the work slept through. You sit by him at his long ornate desk while he tutors you on what you missed.
You weren't having any problems,  you even finished a few pages. He is proud and then-
“I can almost hear those gears slowing my dear.” Lucifer interrupts himself mid-explanation of Zosimos of Panopolis and Maria the Prophetess's theories of alchemy in human medicine.
You jerk awake and turn to him blinking owlishly. "Yeah, I just need to lay down." You admit.
Lucifer eyes you critically. This was sudden, were you ill? You had been fine moments ago, bright-eyed and enthusiastic. He cups your face, turning it from side to side. "So suddenly? We haven't even discussed the properties of mercury yet." You hum letting your eyes droop. He was always so warm.
"Hour nap break? Please?" His stern gaze softens at how your nose scrunches up cutely as you yawn.
“Very well.” He relents letting you slick over to his couch. You flop over face first with a grunt of satisfaction. You toss and turn for a while, moving his pillows around unsatisfied.
“Luci-” You call in defeat. He ignores you at first. If you wanted to nap fine, he would get some work done in the meantime. “Luci~” You say again. You could see his brow twitching. “Lu-”
“My dear,” He shoots you a withering look. “You are treading a thin line. If you have the energy to call for me you have the energy to study.” You say nothing at his brisk tone, instead of opening your arms to him to join you. “You tempt me.” He purrs hiding his smile behind his paperwork.
“Learned from the best.” Lucifer shakes his head laughing at your smug reply. He glances over you to his grandfather clock. Hmmm-perhaps he could spare a few minutes. He rises elegantly discarding his tie and waistcoat to his abandoned chair. Running a hand through his hair he snorts at your little whistle.
“Move.” He commands. You shake your head patting your belly. “I will crush you.” He laughs but lays over you regardless.
“Good-you’re warm.” You say muffled in his shirt. Wrapping your arms around his middle you drift off. Lucifer holds you close, running a still gloved hand up and down your side. Perhaps he should bring out some more complex topics next time. If this was the outcome-
Mammon
He noticed you get drowsy before in class. Your cute little head jerks as you nod off, hands rubbing at your face as you fight to stay awake before giving in to the need to sleep. It was adorable- not that he was watching you because of that! He was just doing his job of looking out for you
Ye-that was all.
Honestly, he thought you were just like him. He never cared for the books being forced on him in class. Boring useless crap in his opinion. He much rather sleep through a lecture on stats too.
Now books on photography? That's where it's at. He has a legitimate passion for it.
He likes being behind the camera just as much as he likes being in front of it. Though he doesn't snap photos often.
He doesn't need more beratement from his brothers than he already gets. Sides, he just feels like they would look down at this like everything else he does.
He'll share his hobby with you though. You at least seem interested in it. He'll show you his collection of vintage to high-tech cameras and talk your ear off about the makes, models, and features.
You nod along and ask questions from time to time, smiling along with Mammon while he prattles on about color theory next to you on the floor.
He was just getting to Auguste Lumiére when he feels a gentle bump on his shoulder.
"O-oi!" Mammon starts, shaking his shoulder to rouse you. You look up at him, blinking the sleep from your eyes. "Was...was I that boring?" He deflates a little, all previous excitement gone in a flash. You had seemed so interested...
"What? Oh, no. No Mammon I'm sorry. It's really all fascinating," You grab for his sleeve so he couldn't run away. "It was just a lot of information all at once. I just got a bit overwhelmed."
"So you fall asleep?" He raises a brow not believing you for a second. Who falls asleep when something is interesting? He'll admit he's fallen asleep while listening to Levi talk about a new anime or Asmo with a make-up release.  But that's because it had been boring. "Is that like a human thing?"
You shrug snuggling closer. "I don't know- but it's a me thing. Give me five? I'd love to hear you talk more about your collection, promise."
Mammon glows scarlet at your words. "Of course you do!" He puffs out his chest excitedly. “I got great taste.” You nod into his shirt before drifting off again. He tilts his head slightly to look at you chuckling internally when your breathing and heartbeat slow down. Damn, out in seconds. Well, better get comfortable.
Uncrossing his long legs he picks up the camera he had been showing you. The old Polaroid lens reflects his face back at him. He remembered the day Land had debuted this marvel of engineering. He just had had to get his hands on one. It was useless now, he had much better quality cameras than this old thing, but he remembered you reminiscing about your human friends and their portable camera. Would you take some pictures with him too? He would take one now, but the sound of the flash would definitely wake you up.
He fiddles with it for a few more minutes, opening and closing the film canister and checking for any parts that needed fixing as he waits. You stir at his side a few minutes later with a little mew of satisfaction. Mammon hears your joints creak and pop as you stretch. "Morning." He says sarcastically, earning himself a light punch to his shoulder. "Ready to continue?"
You nod eagerly, perky and aware. At least for the moment.
Satan
He didn't really notice at first the pattern of your behavior.
You would come over for book club. Which was really just him reading his current novel and you picking something at random to gain a little random knowledge.
You would find a comfortable position on his bed, curl up nice and small and read. Then after a bit yawn and start to snooze.
He first thought it was the atmosphere of his room. It was quiet, warm, and the sound of flickering candles and the rustle of paper sometimes caused him to doze too.
But when it starts happening outside of class he notices.
Hmmm….this is new.
He looks it up in his human anatomy books and finds nothing.
He's not particularly worried about you per se. You always bounce back quickly after a quick snooze.
Then you start dozing when he is talking… >:(
Like his brother/dad he is a little miffed at first but then your behavior reminds him a cat and he loves you 10x harder now
Satan stops in his pacing of the back gardens. His book of poetry hanging limply in his hand. He had been reciting some of the most fascinating lines of work from Lord Byron's later works and wanted a human's perspective. He had thought you were interested. You never complained before when he asked you out here. Perhaps you were just being polite all those times before. Anything to soothe wrath. He snaps his book shut sharply, take some perverse satisfaction in the way you start out of your light sleep at the noise.
"Why'd you stop?" You ask wiping at your face.
"No point talking to someone that doesn't wish to listen." He snaps tersely.
"Oh-Satan, no I was listening. It...it just got to be so much so fast." You flush. “You had some great points going, I just needed a minute.” He watches your eyes grow heavy again, and it dawns on him.
"Do you just sleep when overwhelmed?" He asks incredulously. In all his years with humans, this was new. You shrug making grabby hands for him to move closer. He scoffs but moves into your space. You grab at the hem of his shirt and pull him down to sit next to you. He goes willingly getting comfortable by your side. You eye his lap longingly, hands clutching around his coat sleeve. “Fine-” He rolls his eyes. “Come here you odd thing.” You smile in triumph and crawl into his lap. Once settled you nuzzle into his warm chest.
“Wake me up in ten? I want to hear more about your conversations with Byron.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” He kisses the top of your forehead, opening his book to read again with one hand. You hum at his soft kiss, returning it sleepily with one of your own before passing out again. Ten minutes go by in an instant and Satan looks down at your peaceful face. He smiles to himself, perhaps he’ll let you sleep for a little while longer. You’d need it for his next point.  
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moral-turpitudes · 3 years
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Swan Lake:
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Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts
A/N: This idea came to me at like 3 am and idk why, it’s totally not canon or whatever but it was fun to write. I also don’t know anything about ballet so don’t come for my neck lol. 
Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Slight Mentions of/Implied Physical and Emotional Abuse, Descriptions of Death/Fighting etc.
Word Count: 3,977
Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader
+ Jack Timmons (OC, albeit a shitty one)
Requested: No
Summary: After constant threats of losing her position in a prominent ballet company, Y/N feels trapped in her circumstances. That is until an infamous blue-eyed gangster stumbles upon her one night, helping her leave her past behind, because sometimes that’s the best thing you can do.
“One, two, three. One, two, three.” Y/N counted to herself as she rehearsed in the quiet concert hall. Her nerves still a mess as the ear-splitting voice of her department head played on a loop in her mind. His harsh words stinging as she continued on.
With every leap and pirouette, her toes and tired muscles screamed to be free from their routine binds that held them together. Her corset digging into her skin, the paper thin pantyhose ripping on her knees from a nasty fall, and her feet cracking and bleeding with each new pair of ballet slippers she broke-in. On nights like this, she often questioned what she was doing this for. Was it for glory? For money? For distraction? It seemed only time could tell.
Unbeknownst to her, a man looked on from the dark entrance. A cigarette in hand as he observed her movements. His eyes alert as he’d heard a man yelling moments before.
Smoke escaped his lips as he watched in silence. The only music coming from inside the woman’s head, her body moving in strict motions to the beat she’d memorized from the orchestra that would usually play during shows. Her instructors voices in her head, threatening to fire her if she didn’t do better.
She never thought that something that brought her so much joy could bring her so much pain, but that seemed to be how things went in life, at least for her.
As she ended her dance, she sat on the cold stage, untying the stiff slippers and wincing as the fabric clung to her bloodied feet. No matter the cloth she put around them, she always found cuts and blisters ambushing her skin. This was the price she paid for perfection. Dancing was her “thing.” Her one gift to the world. The one thing that she’d always have, that no one could ever take away from her.
But with tear filled eyes she looked up at the spotlight beaming down on her, the makeup that was once well kept, slowly being washed away by the tears rushing down her cheeks.
As she ripped her gaze from the blinding light, she thought she felt eyes on her. Feverishly blinking the colorful spots on her vision away as she looked out into the empty seats, where a set of blue eyes stared back, their owner stoic and unmoving.
“Hello?” She asked, her heart racing slightly as she painstakingly walked off the stage and down the middle isle towards the man. Trying her best to wipe her tears away.
“Sorry to startle you miss. Just observing.” He said gruffly, cigarette smoke escaping his lips.
“Why are you here...? What’s your name...? Who do you work for...?” She asked in a barrage of questions, her nerves frazzled as she stood before him.
His blue eyes pierced hers as he took in the state of her. Elegantly hiding the pain behind a powder pink façade.
“I stopped in while on business and I heard yelling.” He said, adjusting his peaked cap, the razor blades glinting off the dull light from outside the theater.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized what gang he was a part of. Remembering talk around the city that they were moving in on London. Making threats and crashing party halls more often than not.
“Everything’s fine, sir.” She said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
“You don’t look fine.” He said.
“You haven’t answered my questions, sir.” She said, deflecting his comments and looking at him skeptically. With a sigh, and a long drag from his cigarette, he spoke.
“My name is Thomas, Thomas Shelby. But you can call me Tommy if you like...” He said walking towards her. Her heart racing slightly as she stood in place.
“...and I’m a man who does bad things. But don’t worry love, I have no bad business with you.” He said, gradually walking towards door.
“Wait....” She said, looking around the empty theater nervously as he stopped in his tracks.
“Why exactly were you watching me?” She asked, walking to him.
He sighed as the cigarette burnt down to the last little bit, ending with him throwing it on the tiled floor and stomping it out.
“I wanted to make sure you were alright....and then I saw you dancing to no music. It intrigued me.” He said flatly.
“How so?” She said, crossing her arms at the infamous gang leader.
“Because I can hear it too.” He said.
“You memorized the song? How? You haven’t seen the show.” She said, walking down the stairs with the mysterious man.
“My mother used to play it at home and she’d dance, quite like you. I recognized the routine.” He said, standing near the exit. The streets bustling with people under the moonlit sky.
“You don’t look like someone who listens to music. Do you dance?” She asked, beguiled by the rather handsome blinder.
“I liked a lot of things before the war. Dancing was one of them. But now?.....No.” he said shaking his head slightly as he continued.
“Sometimes life has a way of taking things from us.” He said softly, lighting another cigarette as he stood before her.
“That it does.” She said, glancing at her tired hands as he observed her once more, how she stood and how her hair fell limply around her face, framing it ever so gently.
“I’m probably overstepping my bounds...Tommy. But uh, if you’re ever in need of dancing lessons...I can help. Free of charge.” She said, the thought escaping her lips on a whim. Her mind racing with wanting to dance anywhere but there in that dreadful theater.
“Free of charge aye? Do you make a lot at these shows?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.
“No. I’m actually on my way out. Was almost fired for the last show. I wasn’t good enough.” She said looking down.
“That’s a shame. I thought you did great.” He said.
“Tell that to the department head. I’m tired of ruining my body for something that doesn’t pay. I’d rather do it for fun. At least then life might be worth living.” She said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her pent up feelings slowly trickling out as the minutes passed.
“What do you do for fun, Tommy?” She asked, changing the subject.
He stood in thought, never really taking into account anything besides the noise in his head or the ache in his heart. Never giving himself the time for anything reminiscent of fun.
“I uh, work with horses I guess.” He said.
She nodded and sat in a chair near the exit, wincing and fiddling with the tulle of her tutu.
“So what do you say? Dancing or no?” She asked, a small smirk playing at her lips.
“I’ll accept your offer, on two conditions.” He said.
“Alright, what are your conditions oh infamous Mr. Shelby?” She asked, seeing a small smirk on his face. One that seemed to be uncomfortable, like it had been hidden for years.
“That you give me the name of your department head, and let me employ you.” He said bluntly.
“I’m not a killer, I’m just a dancer.” She said, looking down at her wrists. Bruises forming from many routines throughout the week and from her vile department head.
“You won’t deal with that kind of business. But I’d like to pay you. I can see that you work hard for what you want.” He said sitting next to her.
“You want me to dance for you? What like at some whore house?” She scoffed.
“No. You can dance for fun or teach or whatever it is you want to do. But a job with me, in my shop, can bring you the money you’re looking for. You won’t have to beat yourself up anymore.” He said, noticing the bruising hand prints around her wrists.
“I’ll think about it.” She said quietly, getting up and stretching out her arms, her muscles aching at the movement. Thomas headed towards the door abruptly, not wanting to keep her any longer considering he’d given orders to his brothers a while ago.
“Hey...” She said, stopping him.
“Mhmm?” He mumbled, lighting another cigarette.
“His name is Mr. Timmons. Jack Timmons. I hope you find him.” She said giving him a small, hurting smile before heading back towards the theater.
“Oh and miss?” He called back, making her turn around.
“Yes?”
“I never got your name.” He said.
“It’s Y/N...Y/N Y/L/N.” she said. Thomas nodded and reluctantly turned around, walking slowly into the night the next man on his hit list already buzzing through his mind.
As he stepped onto the cold London streets, he saw his brothers drinking and waiting by the car. Their faces covered in smoke-residue from their mission.
“Oi! What the fuck took you so long aye? We torched the bar down the road so we need to go.” Arthur said, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey he’d stolen.
“I was doing a bit of legitimate business. Did you lot get the money?” He asked, revving the engine and peeling out onto the cold, damp roads towards Small Heath.
“Yeah. Got the whole thing. They won’t mess with us again. What kind of business were you doing in a fucking theater?” Arthur asked.
“Probably fucking one of the dancers.” John said, the toothpick dangling precariously on the edge of his mouth.
“I saw people leaving the show and decided to go there to clean off from our last raid. And I heard a man yelling at some woman there. He’s uh, been a bit of a problem but I can’t tell by how much just yet. He’s been working the woman to death for little pay...so I offered her a spot here.” He said.
“Why are you so caught up on the woman? What, is she gonna dance around the shop all day?” John asked, earning a chuckle from a drunken Arthur.
“I’m thinking she’d make a good assistant. I watched her after he left. She was the only one there, working on the same routine for an hour straight. Was bleeding by the time she was done.” He said.
“Well besides the woman, what are you wanting to do with the man aye? We’ve caused enough trouble here so far.” John said.
“I have a feeling this man is abusing the whole company or at least the woman I spoke to. She’s miserable, you can see it in her eyes. I only saw eyes like that in the trenches.” He said quietly, looking out at the sky through the thin windshield.
Over the next few days, it seemed her plight only grew as the dancers rehearsed, their instructors criticizing more than helping them as they moved to the beat. Y/N’s eyes fearful as their department head entered the room. The music stopping as they all sat on the stage as instructed.
Behind the stage, Thomas watched silently as the instructor eyed the women. The mans eyes only seeing money and fame instead of them as people. But his gaze seemed reserved for Y/N especially.
She was bruised from the repeated practice, the falls, and from the mans calloused hands that beat her beyond the theater walls. Threatening to fire her if she didn’t improve. Claiming he was “trying to save the company’s image.” Telling her she’d be working the streets in no time if she failed again.
Even though she tried her best, often putting in more work than her peers, it still wasn’t enough for Mr. Timmons and his dreadful company. The only thing getting her by was knowing that after the big show, things would settle down, knowing he’d go back to just yelling at her and occasionally at the others, instead of talking with his fists. But the pay remained the same, barely keeping a roof over her head throughout the years.
“Y/N, I’ve seen your performances these past few weeks and they’re all the same. The turns are too loose, your footing is off, and you’re out of step with the others. I don’t see why you can’t do better.” He said loudly as she stared him down. White-hot tears brimmed in her eyes as her face heated up in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. None the wiser to the blinder who’d watched it all unfold.
“Meet me backstage after this will ya? We have to discuss some matters over your position here.” He said, walking to the next girl and nodding his head. He moved on from each person giving small snide remarks, but they were nothing compared to what she’d gotten, and it filled her with rage. With a sigh, she wiped her tears and stood up. Decided then and there that she’d walk out. To make a scene like she’d dreamt to during the 5 years she’d worked there.
“Mr. Timmons...the only thing you’ll be doing backstage is shoving these up your ass.” She said, chucking the bloodied ballet slippers at him before exiting the stage and going to her dressing room, locking the door.
Thomas watched silently until Mr. Timmons excused the rest of them, leaving only him and the poor excuse for a man in the dimly lit area back stage.
As the man walked with a master key towards Y/N’s dressing room, Thomas quickly came up behind him. Hitting him in the back of the head with his gun and wrestling him to the floor. The man screaming through a bloodied mouth as he landed punch after punch to his face. Thomas soon removing his cap and slicing the mans eyes, blinding him instantly before shooting him.
Y/N watched from the doorway, dressed from head to toe in her normal clothes she’d came in with. Her eyes red and swollen from crying and her body aching from the mornings work.
She stood there silently, the sight of the man who tormented her making her smile slightly as she realized she was free of him.
“Y/N....” Thomas said, wiping the blood from his face as best he could as he stood up from the mans limp body.
“Thank you.” She said, sniffling a bit as she kept her tears at bay this time. Walking quickly out the door to the outside of the building, the cars whizzing by as the cold wind crept through her clothes.
Thomas quickly draped a nearby blanket over Timmons’ body, dragging it to the dressing room. But before leaving he retrieved the master key from his limp hand, locking the dead man inside as he cleaned up the mess from his handy-work.
As he looked in the bathroom mirror minutes later, he could see the blood on his skin, the metallic smell barely phasing him as he washed it down the drain. After cleaning up, he headed out the door, finding Y/N sitting on the pavement smoking a cigarette.
“Mind if I join you?” He asked, sitting by her and lighting his own, his hands bleeding slightly from the blows to Timmons’ face.
“Why not.” She said, fiddling with a pink ribbon in her hands that once kept her hair tightly in place.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said, sighing as he looked out at the mid afternoon sky. The city bustling around them.
“It’s alright. I’ve wanted that to happen for 5 years. Don’t worry though, after knowing him, nothing really scares me.” She said with a small smile, relief finally hitting her as she realized she’d probably never have to face the man again.
“He’s dead though right? Like you made sure he’s never coming back?” She asked, her eyes still nervously scanning the roads out of habit as the doubt crept in.
“He’s never coming back. I’m burying him tonight.” He said.
“Make sure it’s deep.” She said, the bruises on her wrists more prominent in the daylight.
“Always do.” He said looking at her wrists with a clenched jaw. Knowing full well Timmons was behind it.
“I’ve uh, thought about your offer by the way.” She said looking down at the ribbon.
“You have aye?” He asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. Her voice bringing him out of his thoughts a bit.
“Yeah. I’d like to try it out, if you’d still want me there. I don’t know what a ballerina could offer the company but, it beats where I was.” She said, cringing internally at all the painful memories which unfortunately often overshadowed the good ones.
“I’ve seen you work hard so far, so I figured making you my assistant would be a good position. You’ll come in at 8, and leave by 6 on most days.” He said.
“Most days? What happens on the other days?” She asked.
“On those days you keep busy so you don’t think about how or if we’ll return. You’ll help keep the shop in line along with my aunt Polly until one of us walks through the door. For your safety.” He said.
“Do all the assistants and secretaries work that late?” She asked.
“Only on those nights they do.” He said.
“Alright. May I ask one question?” She said.
“Mhmm.” He mumbled, blowing smoke from his lips. He stared at her while she thought over her words, her eyes not as miserable as before.
It made him feel better knowing that even though he couldn’t save the men in the trenches, he could at least save her. Someone who shared their same eyes, their same exhaustion, their same fear of not knowing what was next.
“Why me? You could hire anyone else. Any other woman for that matter. But you chose me...” She said, putting her cigarette out on the damp dirt road.
Thomas sighed for a moment, not wanting to tell her he couldn’t help but fall for a beautiful woman even though they’d just met. No matter her profession, he didn’t expect a ballet dancer to steal his heart so quickly and effortlessly.
“I could see you were different.” He said.
“How so?” She asked, his answer not enough as she looked into his eyes. They were like looking into the ocean, threatening to pull her under.
“When I came in after doing some business and saw you there practicing, you intrigued me. You were dancing with no music, but still trying no matter what happened.” He said.
“You saw me fall aye?” She said with a chuckle.
“Yeah, but I also saw what you did after....It’s always about what someone does after the fall, that makes a person who they are. I guess I chose you because you didn’t give up.” He said.
“And I thought it was because I was wearing a pretty pink ballet costume.” She said, smirking.
“That might also be a reason.” He said with a smirk. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time more quietly.
“For the record Y/N, I truly don’t see why the others treated you like they did....But I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He said.
“A man like you making promises? That’s a bold move.” She said, her heart racing as she held his hand gently, nervous to touch someone in a way that wasn’t done in self defense.
“I’m a bold man.” He said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
“Oh really?” She said with a smirk.
“I can show you.” He said, leaning towards her as she did the same. She couldn’t help but feel differently towards him. He didn’t make her feel scared or on-edge like so many people before her. Instead oddly enough, the dashing blinder made her feel safe.
It was in that moment that he too realized he hadn’t felt this way in a while, since before the war. The only comfort he’d ever found previously was at the bottom of a bottle or beneath the sheets in a brothel. The feelings felt out of place, the noise from the war competing with the song in his head, the same one from her shows. The same one from years ago at home.
With a calloused hand, he caressed her cheek, looking into her as eyes as the sun shined into them. Their color illuminated by its rays as he brought her lips to his, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt her relax into the kiss instead of pulling away.
“So...when do I start?” She asked after he broke the kiss, her eyes trailing to his lips.
“Tomorrow. I can pick you up.” He said.
“Won’t you be tired from burying Mr. Timmons? I can drive myself.” She said.
“It’s not my first time burying someone love. I’ll swing by in the morning.” He said, getting up.
“Alright...see you then.” She said, a genuine grin forming on her face for what felt like the first time in years as she watched him head off towards his car.
Over the next few weeks, she became acquainted with everyone in the shop. Polly taking a special liking to her as she loved dancing as well.
“You’ll never catch me dancing ballet. Maybe a waltz but never ballet.” She said one morning.
“I can teach you, it’ll do you some good. Keep you strong.” Y/N said, thinking about how she’d get by with teaching in her cramped apartment.
“Tommy taking classes from you yet?” She asked with a smirk.
“God no. I think he only said that to get me working for him.” She said, thinking back to his first deal with her.
“What are you two talking about aye? We have work to do.” Tommy said, walking into his office where they sat in his chairs nonchalantly.
“Pol was just asking me if I’d taught you to dance yet. You did say you used to...but there would be no ballet of course.” She said, smirking at him as she blew smoke from her lips.
“Well, I have business at the races soon so I guess you’ll have to teach me. Especially since I’ll need someone to accompany me.” He said.
“I never thought you’d ask. What shall I wear?” She asked.
“Something red.” He said, giving her a peck on the cheek before heading out the door.
Their banter carried on like this months after her employment. The only thing different though was where she stayed. Everyone knew he’d had the hots for the woman as soon as he laid eyes on her in the theater. John joking that going to London was the best decision Tommy had ever made. Seeing as she helped him find himself again even if it was just in simple ways. From the nights spent keeping the sounds of the shovels at bay, to the weekends spent helping him learn a few dances. They both healed each other with each step. He never thought he would enjoy dancing or even something as simple as sleeping ever again, but she helped him and he helped her, and he felt the only way to pay her back was to help her still live out her dreams. Eventually converting one of their many rooms into a dance studio, where she’d help teach children on the side, without mean words and harsh fists beating her down.
By this time, she finally knew what she was dancing for, or more so who. And it pleased Thomas to see the life finally return to her eyes as she did so. Knowing that one of the best decisions she made was to dance for herself. Even if it didn’t garner any grand applause, she knew she had people who cared, and who saw the value in what she did, considering it was her gift to the world after all. Even if it was the gangly Shelby family as her audience, she knew it was better than any theater.
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Thomas Shelby Tag List:
@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,
@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore​, @xxbeckybeexx-blog​
If you’d like to be added or removed, just send an ask/message! :)
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dabi-drift · 3 years
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Yaoyorozu, Bakugou, Compress x S/O {Valentine’s Scenarios} - Incomplete
If you want any characters adding here or to anything else I write, just drop me a comment or an ask!
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Momo Yaoyorozu:
♡ La douleur exquise: the exquisite pain, unrequited love…
♡ This was perhaps the most appropriate summary of your emotions. You loved this girl, this sweet, gorgeous young woman, with all your heart, all your essence. But would she ever return that love? You watched her interactions with Todoroki and Jirou…it was more likely that she'd develop feelings for one of them.
♡ What was the point in all this pining? Not that you could help it, of course. You would've given anything to break free from the stifling jealousy, the borderline worship.
♡ It wasn’t obvious. You were the type so often described as a 'Kuudere'; your face very, very rarely betrayed your heart. But Momo…she made heat rise to your cheeks and butterflies flutter in your stomach.
♡ She was breath-taking, indescribable…incomparable.
♡ You noticed the way she captured everyone's attention, how she did it so innocently…you couldn’t help falling for her.
♡ You didn’t think she'd ever accept your advances, so you stayed at a distance. You became friends, but refused to take it further. You wouldn’t even try. You weren't willing to lose her.
♡ So when Valentine's came, you were extremely ill-prepared. Ashido asked if you were giving chocolate to anyone, and with your usual stoicism, you said no. For a split second, she seemed disappointed. Was the idea of love really that tempting to her? You would never understand that girl. Love wasn’t always something to flaunt. It hurt. A lot.
♡ Now, you weren't going to lie - you had briefly considered making Momo some chocolate with your sub-par skills, but that'd be too desperate…right? You could've waved it off as friendly, but if she was the only one to receive it, would she truly believe that?
♡ You sighed, busying yourself with school and listening to the mindless chatter of your classmates. Lunchtime approached, and you decided to sit alone. On the roof, of course (when is the roof ever not mentioned). You had to admit, all the happy couples sent you a slight wave of nausea.
♡ You were just wondering, ‘Why couldn’t you and Momo be like that? Why did love have to be so complicated?’
♡ Well, at least your food was there for you. As you began to eat, the last thing you expected was a polite little knock at the door. This was the rooftop - unexplored territory to the average student - no-one needed to be so gentle. You didn’t respond, thinking it'd been either the wind or your imagination.
♡ The door opened.
♡ It was Momo, all worn-out and blushy.
♡ Your heart rate picked up, and all potential words died on your tongue. Why did she hold such power over you? And why, why was she so damn cute?
♡ You wanted to turn her away, but a strange determination was burning in her eyes. In her hand lay a small box, complete with a ribbon and label.
♡ She moved toward you slowly, legs shaking. She presented the box to you.
♡ "I-I made these for you! Please accept them!"
♡ Although it floored you, how could you possibly refuse her?
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Atsuhiro Sako/Mr Compress:
♡ His dramatic flair will certainly bleed through to this special day.
♡ This man 100% sat down and learned as many expressions of love (in different languages) as humanly possible; the more poetic the better. Obviously, he uses them at every opportunity, but on a day such as this…it was bound to be more heartfelt (I mean extra).
♡ He was forever going over-the-top, no matter whether it was your birthday, Valentine's, Christmas or anything in-between. He didn’t care for the tradition of men waiting until White Day to return gifts - he wanted you to experience the most amazing day, feel all the love he poured into you. He actually went to the trouble of purchasing (not stealing?? Man's dropped being a villain to officially become your biggest simp) everything he gave.
♡ Let's face it, the lure of thievery was strong, but his devotion to you was far, far stronger.
♡ You'd never professed to be a hero, but…you weren't a villain, either. You appreciated honesty and decency. Y'know, normal stuff - core values that villains were often shown to be lacking. So for Atsuhiro to break from his criminal tendencies, even for a moment…it meant that you were respected, cherished beyond belief.
♡ He hoped to prove as much, with each new dawn.
♡ But today, society had provided a legitimate excuse for Atsuhiro to flaunt his love. He'd organised the entire day, ensuring radio silence on the League's part. His plans wouldn’t be ruined by other obligations. Your importance surpassed theirs, tenfold. He couldn’t (nor did he ever wish to) fathom a world without your radiance.
♡ You were everything he never thought he'd find.
♡ This man will absolutely take you for a fancy dinner (PLF funded, of course), ending the night with a kiss beneath the twinkling stars - the ones he can't help but compare you to. In truth, the thousands upon thousands visible amid the partial cloud-cover, paled when judged against you.
♡ How did he ever win over such an otherworldly beauty?
♡ That thought was reoccurring. But it didn’t matter. It never would.
♡ "Tu sei un dono del cielo, e tu sei tutto quella che voglio."   *You are a gift from Heaven, and you are everything I want.
♡ "Voglio passare la mia vita con te."    *I want to spend my life with you.
♡ Get used to these more intimate phrases he's sprinkling into conversation. He might slip up a few times, but you'll never realise. And what does it really matter? The sentiment speaks with far greater clarity.
♡ He's a romantic at heart.
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Katsuki Bakugou:
♡ Oh, your heart yearned for Bakugou's love. You couldn’t really understand it, given his attitude and that apparent God Complex. Unfortunately though, your rationale was side-lined in favour of this pursuit.
♡ Valentine's seemed like the perfect time to expose your feelings, but you just didn’t know what to do! While you stared at him a lot, you didn’t hang around the Bakusquad, and you couldn’t recall ever hearing him confess to liking something.
♡ That's where Midoriya came in. He was the ultimate treasury of information about the explosion boy. You just knew he'd have the answers. You spoke for a while in the dormitory's common room, Midoriya's notebooks spread across the table. By nightfall, you'd acquired knowledge of practically every inch of Bakugou's life. You wondered for a moment if that was a breach of privacy, but…oops?
♡ You settled on Mountain Climbing gear - Mountain Climbing, as Midoriya explained, was a favourite activity of Bakugou's. He gave you measurements, just in case you bought any clothes (how the hell did even know them), and walked you through the things Bakugou definitely wouldn’t turn down.
♡ It was gonna be a bit costly - good thing this boy was so intoxicating. 
♡ It sort of felt like trying to buy his affections, but even if he issued a fierce rejection, you'd still insist he take all the stuff. You didn’t hike, so what use would it be to you?
♡ You were determined to show your love, to prove you'd be his perfect match, far worthier than anyone else!
♡ When you'd collected everything (and thrown in a few spicy chocolate treats), you wrapped it up and steeled your nerves. The day of reckoning was fast approaching, like a herald of ruin. This could make-or-break your heart.
♡ Midoriya gave you lots of encouragement, but every time you saw Bakugou in the interlude, your smile faltered. What if he really did reject you? What if he hated you?
♡ Bakugou being Bakugou, he received letters and confessions of love on a daily basis. He never reciprocated, and he always complained - they were too desperate, too annoying, too…anything! He just seemed to hate love - the very concept! It was disheartening.
♡ But you wouldn’t give up.
♡ You wanted this boy, more than life itself. You wanted to be the one he held dear, the one he protected and grew jealous over.
♡ It was a fluffy fantasy. But hopefully, hopefully, reality would prove sweeter.
♡ The morning of Valentine's descended, and you caught him just before school. He would've walked with Kirishima, but said boy dismissed himself with a smile. He'd been clued in, you supposed.
♡ Bakugou tried his usual 'What the fuck do you want? How dare you address me directly, you piece of shit idiot', but you weren't letting him. He hadn't even realised the date, but when his gaze drifted to the items in your hand, he froze.
♡ You were in the middle of "IgotyouthisandIhopeyou'llbemyvalentinebutIreallydon'tknowit'sfinetorejectmeIjustwantedyoutoknow-".
♡ You saw the blush climbing his neck. You saw it settle on his cheeks. You heard him stutter, for the very first time. He was struggling under his contradictory thoughts of: My long-time crush actually feels the same way! And, I have a fucking reputation!
♡ You took pity on him, swallowing down all your nerves and stepping forward.
♡ You kissed him.
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for the love of god please give us some austin powers!whiskey headcanons o queen of au's 😔we're just sluts for ur content
My mf babe boo lee validating this dumb au that i love so fucking much aksksks i have like two hours before all the thanksgiving stuff happens so if anybody wants to send me whiskey shit for this au DO IT!!!
warnings: uhh talk of sex and porn, foul language. theres zero organization or skill put into these i just threw ‘em out there lmao
So the general consensus of this au for those who dont know, is an austin powers au. Yes i said that. 
Jack “whiskey” Daniels is an statesmen from the 70’s who is hailed as a legend for all the lives hes saved and ploys for global terrorism he’d stopped. In his prime, he was cryogenically frozen until the statesmen would need him at a later date (reasoning behind this is vague, even whiskey himself doesnt remember why. He get flashes of distant memories and emotions around it all, but they're gone as soon as they come.)
Cut to modern time, you’re scotch. One of the best agents who’s known for getting the job done with little to no issues, but not known to be a socializer. You are tasked as agent whiskey’s new partner as he is unfrozen and helping him adapt to the new world. 
Now lets get into the fun stuff
With adapting to the new world, you had to teach whiskey about the internet and my god was that tiring. 
He still doesn't get the point of dating apps. “I don’t need a little device to help me get laid, i do just fine with my charms and southern hospitality.” you're pretty sure he only says that because he cant figure out how the fuck to use tinder but you let it go. 
Whiskey hates porn. Like DESPISES it. This is something he decided to tell you with an “urgent” phone call at three in the fucking morning. 
“She’s faking! Thayer all faking!! What’s the point if she doesn’t enjoy it? It’s all a lie! This poor woman looks like she’s in pain!! They’ve made sex a production!! What has this world come to!?!”
You hang up and go back to sleep. 
But yeah whiskey hates it. It’s all fake and over the top and just...not what he thinks sex should be. 
To him sex isn’t a production or a race. It’s a celebration of attraction between consenting adults.  
He enjoys the ametur made stuff, where there’s legitimate attraction between those involved
This doesn't mean he’s vanilla in anyway, he just hates that porn isnt really...sex. Its not mutual pleasure, its all jarring categories, fake moaning and very sexist foundation. 
Once he finds the animal video part of the internet? Oh he’s as good as gone. He thin begins to send you links to videos' showcasing friendships between unlikely pairs, such as a sea lion and a horse, or a monkey and a ferret. You don’t tell him that you watch them all late at night when you cant sleep.
He fucking loves nature documentaries. Especially deep sea ones, focusing on fish that light up or are see-through and shit like that. 
If you watch them with him you admit its...kind of adorable. Like seeing a kid all wide-eyed at the aquarium. 
“You know what’d make this really interesting??”
“We aren’t doing lsd while watching blue planet, stop asking me that.”
He’s done drugs, like, a lot back in the day. Statesmen is stricter now, with regular mandatory drug tests so whiskey cant go out, partying like a madman and taking whatever he pleases. 
Whiskey is bisexual . As is basically everybody i write so when you tell him same sex marriage is legal in all 50 states he legit tears up. 
“Never thought I’d live to see the day.” hes so overjoyed at the news. He knows there's still a long way to go but seeing that, something he’d only dreamed and fantasize about while drawing shapes on the chest of his lover? Oh it makes his heart soar. 
Whiskey is a man with brazen sexuality but of course aware of boundaries. First day you met him you turned down his advances, he accepted this and then decided to latch on as your best friend AND wingman! :D
You cannot escape this fate you're stuck with him now. 
Anytime you go out to a bar he scouts for potential suitors. “How about the blonde at the counter, they're your style!” and before you can tell him NO he’s already swaggering over and chatting you up to them. 
Whiskey, although you hate to say it, is a charming man. Hes kind and suave and will sing the praises of somebody hed only just met and have them melting in a puddle right in front of him. It’s annoying really. You have to listen to all the women at work swoon over him and talk about how youre soooo lucky to be working with him. He must be such a dream in the field. What's it like?
You plainly tell them that the other day you saw him get stuck in a revolving door and he asked for your help.
To get out
Of a door. 
You will NEVER admit this to him but when you were a green agent?? Just starting out?? You had a major crush on the legendary agent whiskey. You’d only seen the photos and heard the stories but god you thought he was amazing. 
Then you became a skilled agent yourself (perhaps also talented with a whip and lasso) and finally met the man himself when he was unfrozen. 
Whiskey calls you “little filly” and will make jokes about how you need to respect your elders. You know since he’s technically like 89 years old lmao. 
Whiskey hates that women gotta shave, he thinks you should do it if you want but the societal pressure of it? He hates it. 
And lets be real, he’s a man of the 70’s so he fucking worships bush. (the pussy not the president) (i have a lot of thoughts on this)
He can and will go down for hours on end, almost selfish with it because he gets as much pleasure from it as you. Pressing kisses and nips on your thighs, mumbling praise against you, homeboy gets straight up pussy drunk and doesn’t know how to speak coherent sentences anymore. 
He’s a cuddler. Even before you started dating he was just very affectionate and touchy. You once had to sleep together for warmth on a mission where you were stuck in the middle of nowhere during winter and he nuzzled and cuddled you all night long with a dazed smile. (he’s also your own personal space heater so that’s nice)
You thought you were over the hype and worship of agent whiskey,and you are, but when you get to know him as a friend and not an agent. As Jack, the fool who cuddles and tries to pair you up and sings out of key while cooking? God help you, your heart starts beating when you see his dimples and big goofy smile and all you can think is. “Oh fuck.”
anyways i reall y love this au and have many thoughts please sedn requests or hcs or anything you want me to expand on <3
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eleanorfenyxwrites · 3 years
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Hi y'all!
So I realized today that it's been about three months since I started cross-posting my stuff to ao3 (those of y'all who were here for After Each Midnight while it was still a wip will know that I've been writing for longer than that but anyway). With the latest fic I just posted, I now have 30 works published to ao3 within those three months! Which is wild to me!
Since that averages out to ten fics a month and I like round numbers, I decided to celebrate by listing my 10 favorite fics...of my own lol. Narcissistic? Maybe! But it's fun anyway!
This is a really long post as each rec includes a summary, an excerpt (or a few), and some personal notes/anecdotes about the writing process or what inspired me to write the fic, etc. so I'm putting it all under the break. If this doesn't sound like your cup of tea then of course please just skip over this one, but for anyone who wants to revisit some of my older works with me, or if you're curious about which fics I personally like the most, or if you want to talk about your favorite fics of mine in the replies or anything, then that's cool too! I just wanted to find a way to mark this down because it feels like something of an achievement ^_^
Thank you!
1. After Each Midnight Begins A New Day, (54,401 words, Rated E) Ship(s): 3zun, Wangxian Summary: When Lan Xichen wakes up the morning after the fifth anniversary of his life crumbling to rubble around him in Guanyin Temple, he's shocked to find both Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao in his bed, both whole and alive and...married to him?! (A time travel fix-it in which the time traveling and fixing of things has already been done by Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and Lan Xichen accidentally gets dragged along for the happily ever after.) Excerpt(s):
1. “Poor da-ge,” [Meng Yao] teases again, this time with a bit of an edge, and Lan Xichen cracks one eye open just enough to see him stripping first out of his shoes and socks, then his third layer of robes, then his second, until he’s dressed much as he had been the prior evening - in nothing but a black under-robe so sheer that it actually almost looks gray. It clings to all the petite, lithe curves of him and the sight makes Lan Xichen’s mouth practically water. “What if I want my turn with you now? What if I’m jealous that er-ge got to have you all to himself for hours , while your poor A-Yao had to go have a drink with Xian-didi just to pass the time.” “Oh gods you’re a beast too,” Nie Mingjue groans as Meng Yao slips on top of him gracefully to lean down and pepper kisses up and down his neck and shoulder. “Get off of me, foul creature. Go tempt our husband, I’m temporarily immune to your wiles.” “You’re never immune to my wiles, da-ge, and er-ge is meditating oh so diligently. He’s certainly not smiling and watching us through his lashes as if we’re not well aware of his tricks and what he likes to watch.” - 2. “It took years of practice, you with your painting and I with my answering, but when you were a teenager I finally decided on the best advice I could think to give you: Do not seek for every answer in this life all at once, Xichen,” he instructs with a smile as he returns to painting. “Let them come to you gently and in their season, and trust that all will be as it should in the end.” Lan Xichen takes another breath and returns to his painting with a slightly trembling hand - a trembling that ends up creating a lovely branch on the tree he is painting that, when he turns his head to look, is modeled almost exactly after the one growing in the garden behind the Gentian House, just beyond the window. “I don’t remember ever seeing this tree,” he whispers and Qingheng-Jun hums across from him in clear understanding. “And yet it flows from your brush all the same. Now we can all know that you have nothing to fear, your memories will also come to you in their season. Until then, allow yourself to rest, and remember that you have the support of your family whenever you need it.” “Yes, father,” he replies with a whisper and a tremulous smile, feeling lighter than he has in days. - 3. “I will go into seclusion.” The statement is a stone dropped into the gently rippling water of a spring-fed pool. The stone is jagged and pitted with all that the world has done to chip away at it, to make it rough and painful to the touch. It is sharp in his hands, heavy with all the hurts he still carries in his chest, all the grief he has no more room to hold. He feels lighter with it out of his grasp, the words settling into the ensuing silence with some bittersweet relief.
Notes: I know I've said it before but it bears repeating: this entire fic exists solely because of the smut scene in chapter 1. I thought of the smut first, and then the lead-in to it, and I intentionally left the end of chapter 1 ambiguous - it could have ended right there as an angsty one-shot with Lan Xichen believing that it was all a hallucination, and there's nothing really in the text to say that it's not because Lan Xichen is a very unreliable narrator in this fic. But then I wanted to write the backstory for the smut if, in fact, it wasn't a hallucination - and everything kind of...butterfly-effected out from there to become what it is now, along with all the extras in the series that's now roughly 120k long altogether and still not finished. Oops. Oh and also: this fic that started the ball rolling only exists because for some reason the servers for Omegle went down for months where I live, and prior to that I used to spend hours rp'ing. Without that creative outlet, I filled the vacuum with writing fic instead and now here we are. So if you're grateful for my fics then thank Omegle for sucking for a few months lol --//-- 2. Loving, Loud, Wild, and Theirs (7386 words, Rated T) Ship(s): Xuanli & Gen (kidfic), 3zun (briefly) - an extra for AEM Summary: A brief look at how in this kinder world, Jin Zixuan managed to find and legitimize his three siblings as well as a snapshot of the chaos of love and fun that is his family with his siblings, his beloved wife, and their seven children. Excerpt:
He had listened to [Madam Qin] and her handmaid, and he had believed them, and he had been unsurprised to find himself thinking quite uncharitably of his father following his promise to Madam Qin that he would do everything in his power to make it right, as much as he could. [Jin Zixuan and Meng Yao] return to Jinlintai the day after the next, once their business is concluded. He’s relieved when nothing needs his immediate attention as it means he’s free to retreat into his and Jiang Yanli’s quarters so he can tell her everything that’s weighing on his mind. “No more surprise siblings from now on,” he sighs into the comfort of Jiang Yanli's chest when he’s finished outlining what has happened and his plans to prepare a new suite of rooms in the family wing of the tower. For Qin Su. His sister. Jiang Yanli just laughs her tinkling laugh and kisses him, her hands gentle as she combs his hair back from his face with her fingertips. “You’ve got more siblings now than any of the rest of us,” she teases with a mischievous smile down at him that is a bit too reminiscent of, weirdly, both Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu for comfort. “Two brothers, a sister, and of course we must keep Mianmian in her spot on the list. If you would like to count brothers-in-law as well you’ve also got A-Xian, A-Cheng, Huaisang, Wangji, Xichen, and Mingjue...” He groans and hides his face properly in the soft silk of her robes even as she laughs again over his head.
Notes: This fic is actually a request fill for someone and I had some trouble ending it because there's a lot more I want to write with this wild family, though I did eventually find what felt like a good place to cut it off with 3zun arriving in Jinlintai for the visit they leave for at the end of AEM. There is something of a follow-up floating around my wips that - if it ever gets written - is a direct sequel to AEM that continues where this extra leaves off, with 3zun getting to spend time with their hoard of niblings in Jinlintai. No promises about if/when that will get written though. --//-- 3. Performance Art (8106 words, Rated M) Ships: 3zun, Wangxian (briefly) Summary: A Modern AU inspired by the 'Hysterical Literature' performance art project. Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Meng Yao take turns doing their best to read aloud from chosen written works as they're filmed. The twist is that they're trying to do so as they're being pleasured with a vibrator controlled by one of their partners off-camera, each of their turns ending when the partner being filmed/played with has an orgasm. Excerpt(s):
1. “Engage people with what they expect; it is..- it…it is what they are able to discern and.. ngh.. confirms their projections. It settles.. ah settles them into predictable-“ He cuts off suddenly to set the book down flat and slap one hand down sharply on the tabletop. Meng Yao simply clicks another button and Nie Mingjue groans as his newly unoccupied hand twitches back to rest on the edge of the table closer to himself, as if about to drop down beneath it. Lan Xichen and Meng Yao both shift forward in their seats but Nie Mingjue catches himself before they have to intervene, returning his hand to the middle of the table and forcing a deep breath into his lungs so he can continue. “-Predictable patterns of..of response, occupying their minds while you w-wait for the ex- extra-“ he huffs out a sharp breath and curls his hand into a fist as he tilts forward and forces out the rest of the sentence in a rush. “Extraordinary moment — that whichtheycannotanticipate. FUCK!” - 2. It’s a few hours of quiet, peaceful work later when Lan Wangji shifts his weight in the way that means he wants Wei Wuxian’s actual attention and not his ‘ I’m sculpting so I’m periodically looking at you ’ sort of attention which he is, of course, quick to grant. He pauses in his muttering half to himself and half to Lan Wangji to say, “Hm? What’s up Zhanzhan?” “From Xiongzhang,” he says by way of explanation, holding his phone out for Wei Wuxian to squint at the screen. It takes him a moment to understand what he’s looking at, his eyes needing a second to adjust to the small black and white video that’s playing after having spent hours looking between Lan Zhan and the clay form taking shape under his hands. “What is this?” he asks as he leans in closer and squints a little harder. He blinks and his eyes go wide in the next moment as he realizes what’s happening on the screen as the woman’s tension climaxes ( literally ) - and then it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to figure out just why he’d been asked to create an eerily similar setup in his own studio the previous afternoon for three men he might as well consider his sort-of brothers at this point. His next exhale is a wheeze as his ears go hot and Lan Wangji is instantly shrugging into a robe to stand from his lounging position and approach, concern written all over his features. “Wei Ying?”
Notes: I don't really have too much to say about this one except that it brought me so much joy and laughter to write and it honestly kind of surprises me that it's one of my less popular fics - it's nothing but a fun, sexy time! But I'm also terrible at guessing trends/what people will want to see so that might be on me haha. Oh! Also - a minor thing but something I'm very mildly proud of: the narrator voice is dependent on who's behind the camera! I wanted a way to make the person filming feel just as involved as the other two and I thought that was a fun way to do it since within the narrative it's technically going to be their perspective used for the video they're recording. Just to give y'all a little insight into my decision-making when it comes to my writing style for this one. --//-- 4. Anything For My Nie-Zongzhu (6411 words, Rated E) Ship: NieYao - pre-canon (just barely) Summary: Meng Yao is Nie Mingjue's trusted right hand, intelligent and valued by his Sect Leader, at least, who has learned lately to appreciate him a hell of a lot in private too - and for much more personal matters than the minutiae of running the Nie Sect. Seeing as Nie Mingjue trusts him so much, he finds it in himself to ask for something new - for Meng Yao to top him. [Technically an extra for AEM but can be read as a standalone] Excerpt:
“Am I to play into this boorish act you’re putting on tonight?” he teases instead as he steps closer until he’s near enough to feel the way the steam from the bath has turned the air sticky and humid. Nie Mingjue finally looks up at him and Meng Yao is internally crowing with triumph as he watches the lines of tension around his eyes and mouth fall away, his expression smoothing into quiet contentment. He did that. His presence alone is enough to help Nie Mingjue relax. It feels nearly as good as the day the man had angrily defended him to his own disciples and promoted him on the spot. “It’s not an act, I’m plenty boorish,” Nie Mingjue gruffs, returning his gaze to the letter, but this close Meng Yao can actually watch his eyes do nothing but try to glare a hole through the center of the page. “Of course you are, Zongzhu,” Meng Yao allows, his tone openly humoring - as is the smile tightening the corners of his mouth. “Therefore I can only suppose that you would prefer it if I returned to my walk and left you to continue your...correspondence in peace.”
Notes: Once again not really many notes on this one! I just love NieYao, I think their dynamic during Meng Yao's Nie Sect days has so much potential and I love exploring it every so often. --//--
5. Bite The Hands That Feed (1590 words, Rated E) Ship: XiYao Summary: After being forced out of the Nie Sect, Meng Yao has to come to grips with the hunger that's been chasing him his whole life, and he finds temporary satisfaction over and over in Lan Xichen, who is always so generous with his time and his body and is willing to help him feel less empty even just for a night. Excerpt:
He would never bite the hands that feed him, that stuff him full enough to make him believe for a moment that he’s no longer starving. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t inflict pains. He bites and he scratches and he plants himself in the bloody furrows until flowering moans reward his violent care, until pleasure bursts sun-warmed and sweet between them, berries ripe for the picking. He stains his mouth red with them, his fingers purple with the bruises he paints so delicately on his devotee’s body. If Meng Yao is being clawed to a slow torturous death from within, then it stands to reason that his other half will be ripped to shreds from without. He keeps his nails sharp and his teeth bared to tear into his flesh and drink sweetly of the vintage he offers - sweat, spend, blood, saliva when their mouths meet for crushing kisses. All of it is his to consume. He puts his mouth to the feast of Lan Xichen’s body and eats until the hunger pangs are satiated, drinks until he feels dizzy with it.
Notes: So I wrote this one when I was getting a little tired of the straight narration style of all my other fics and I wanted to try my hand at something looser, a little more prose-like but also a little darker than my usual fluff. I'm not sure how successful I was - this is actually one of my absolute least popular fics, number-wise! - but it's one of my favorites anyway. --//-- 6. A Figure, A Mouth (2788 words, Rated M) Ship: Wenzhou Summary: A quiet, intimate evening spent in the comfort of the Four Seasons Mountain Manor sometime between their arrival/fixing up of the place and the confrontation with Ye Baiyi. Excerpt:
After a while of warming each other up Wen Kexing urges him back up to push the bed under the window just as he’d said he would. Zhou Zishu takes the opportunity to blow out the candles before he rejoins Wen Kexing in their bed, the sudden darkness leaving them free to admire each other clothed in nothing but broad swathes of cool, sweet blue light bisected by deep black lattices of shadow from the trees out in the yard, the shadows from the contours of the wall and decorations around the window blocking and revealing them in turns. Lao Wen is, of course, as beautiful like this as he has been in every way Zhou Zishu has ever seen him, and he takes the time to savor it, to indulge in the decadence that Wen Kexing presents for each of his remaining senses. He’s a feast for the eyes, all hard muscle and skin glistening with glittering diamonds of sweat along his shoulders and the soft curve of his cheek. He’s a symphony for the ears, breathless desire and tender calls of his name that Zhou Zishu never lets go unanswered when they’re like this. By now Wen Kexing is an expert at drawing pleasure from him in every unlikely way there is to make sure that the effects of the nails don’t keep him from reaching his peak at least once, occasionally more in spite of his fading sense of touch.
Notes: Wenzhou makes me so soft and emotional, y'all. The next one on the list is also a Wenzhou fic and I just can't seem to stop writing them in fluffy/smutty situations because it's what they deserve. I really don't have anything more interesting to say about this fic, I just love them haha. --//-- 7. Tease Him Just Enough (2537 words, Rated M) Ship: Wenzhou Summary: A possible outcome if the conversation post-face reveal in episode 6 had gone differently - i.e. if Zhou Zishu had called Wen Kexing out on all his flirting and challenged him to do something about it - and then he does. Excerpt:
They don’t need words to communicate that at least right here in this particular moment there’s no one else they would rather have in their arms, pressed up against their bodies, no one else’s tongue who would find a new home in each other’s mouths or any other body their hands would rather explore. Wen Kexing has already known that they’re fated, but for the first time it feels like they’re agreeing to be so. Even if it’s just for a night. (Not that he thinks it will be just one night for them, but getting Zhou Xu to agree to anything remotely of the kind is like trying to drag a stray back-alley cat into a bath so he’ll take what he can get.)
Notes: My first fic for Word of Honor! The whole time I was watching the show (read: obsessively binge-watching) I was like 'Okay I like this show a lot but it's not nearly as compelling as The Untamed, idk if I'll be motivated to write anything for it'. Then I got to the end and I was like NEVERMIND YES I AM. I played myself. --//-- 8. You Need Tending (12,108 words, Rated T) Ship(s): Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji & Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren & The Jades & Wei Wuxian (this is a kidfic so nothing romantic!) Summary: Wei Wuxian is alone and homeless on the streets of Yunmeng, unaware of the presence of his parents' old friend so nearby. Lan Wangji is a child grieving for the loss of his mother in silence, overwhelmed by the world his uncle keeps dragging him out into. It takes their paths crossing more than once for Lan Qiren to realize just who Wei Wuxian is and that he needs their help, but he gets there eventually. Excerpt:
He watches on as the man comes to a stop next to the boys and squats down to check over the one who had been lost and suddenly he remembers lying on the ground and looking up at a stern-faced man with gentle hands and a ribbon across his forehead. The man who had given him medicine and bandages after a small boy had defended him from dogs, and an older boy had talked to him so kindly and helped him to sit up off the dirt. Wei Ying gasps as the memory hits and he scrambles back down off the roof, landing on the packed dirt of the space between the buildings with an oof, excitement bubbling in his chest. Along with the memory comes a name and it flies from his lips as he scrambles up off the ground to push his way into the crowd again. “Master Lan!” he shouts, his tiny voice lost in the din of the market. He tries to shove closer but the little family is already walking away, their backs to him as he strains against the flow of people much bigger and stronger than him. “Master Lan!” he tries again, desperation lending extra strength and emotion to his cry. Wei Ying stops struggling as he watches the two boys in white walk away, the pair of them flanking Master Lan in his sky blue robes as they move through the market, radiating serenity in the midst of the chaos. His vision blurs and he scrubs his forearm against his eyes angrily to dry them, trying to keep the three of them in his sight for as long as he can just in case they turn around and spot him. Just in case they remember him and maybe want to tell him to come with them.
Notes: Baby Wei Ying T-T He just hits me right in the heart, and so does baby Lan Zhan! And baby Lan Xichen. All the babies. This fic was actually completely inspired by an utterly adorable fanart of Lan Xichen giving a grumpy baby A-Zhan a piggyback ride! I'd been wanting to write a kidfic type fix-it for a while and that art was the spark I needed to come up with something workable. (Edit: here’s my reblog of the art I’m talking about!) --//--
9. Familial Circumstances (5393 words, Rated G)
Ship(s): Lan Qiren & Original Characters, Lan Qiren & Jin Zixuan, Lan Qiren & Qin Su, Lan Qiren & Mo Xuanyu - An extra for AEM
Summary: Another kidfic extra for the horde of children in Jinlintai, this time as seen through the lens of their beloved Great Uncle Lan. It's a simple relationship-study-type look at how all the children love their Great Uncle and how much he loves and treasures them in return.
Excerpt:
An unusual stillness accompanies [Jin Ruhai's] playing. Jin Lu stops fidgeting with her fingers, the twins slip into the perfect stillness of those who are utterly aware of themselves at all times - a trait [Lan Qiren has] noticed in every skilled fighter he’s ever come across - and even Jin Ye relaxes, slumping further and further backwards until she’s slouched down against his stomach, legs dangling over his crossed shins.
The piece isn’t a terribly long one, nor as complex as the next score Lan Qiren intends to teach the boy, but Jin Ruhai’s mastery of it is impressive. Again, Lan Qiren is forcefully reminded of Lan Wangji, always most at peace when behind his instrument to play with and/or for the people he loves.
There’s silence in the room until the last note fades with a shiver into the air and Jin Ruhai pulls his hands back from the instrument. The stillness lasts for one more moment before it’s interrupted by Jin Lu sneezing suddenly and her siblings laugh as the quiet breaks.
“I had to hold that in the whole time !!” Jin Lu laughs as she rubs her sleeve under her nose, one eye screwed shut as she giggles. “I didn’t want to mess up A-Zhuang’s song, it’s so pretty!”
Notes: I'm definitely biased because they're all my oc's except for Jin Ling, but I genuinely love all of the Jin children in the AEM AU. If anyone is ever interested in knowing more about their individual personalities and the like please don't hesitate to ask me, I've actually put quite a bit of thought into all 6 of the kids I created wholecloth and I have a lot of feelings about Jin Ling getting the chaotic siblings and loving parents he was robbed of.
--//--
10. Opportunities To Practice (5710 words, Rated M) (*WIP)
Ship: Xuanli - An extra for AEM
Summary: Jin Zixuan is nervous for his..marital activities with Jiang Yanli - after all, who could he possibly ask for advice? His father? No thank you. Thankfully Jiang Yanli is sweet and patient and knows her husband well - he just needs a bit of time and he'll get it figured out.
Excerpt:
She shivers with an interesting combination of want and intense vulnerability as she stands there, feeling bare in spite of her remaining layer. It’s of a material so sheer as to be practically nonexistent, nothing more than a delicate veil of a red so pale it’s nearly pink that sits on her body like a second skin. Until it falls gently away at the knee to flutter around her ankles, it clings to every curve, every contour, and as she watches Jin Zixuan doesn’t even bother to hang the robe he had just removed on the screen. He lets it drop into a soft pool around her bare feet, his gaze roaming her newly exposed figure - she would perhaps feel strange about it did he not look so devoted , so in awe of seeing her practically naked in front of him.
Yanli gasps softly as he suddenly drops to his knees at her feet and oh - that’s heady. Her body, which she hasn’t really thought of too much in the past beyond the occasional irritation that it’s weaker than she would prefer, has put the man she loves on his knees. He’s looking up at her now, his eyes wide and his hands reverent as he raises them to rest on her thighs, thumbs caressing her too-warm skin through the barely-there robe that bunches up softly under the pressure of his grip.
“You’re right,” he finally breathes, sounding slightly strained. “I’d like this to stay on. If that’s - are you alright?”
“I am,” she reassures.
Notes: This last fic is technically a wip, the only one in the list! However! - it's going to be a collection of one-shots centered around Xuanli and their sexual exploits that lead to their seven children, and possibly also the ones that are just for fun (horny Yanli rights forever). It's not currently high on my list of priorities or anything and the one chapter that's up so far can stand on its own so it's a wip but it's not? I just love Xuanli so much and I want to explore their relationship in my happy fix-it AU whenever the mood strikes, and whenever that happens this is where those one-shots will go.
--//--
And that's it! My personal top 10 favorite fics of my own as of right now. I thought about doing my top 10 according to statistics like hit counts or kudos, but I genuinely love some of these unpopular fics and I wanted to give them some love and attention even if it's just for me. I know there's a lot here to sift through but if any of y'all enjoyed the list or any of the specific fics on it let me know! I liked taking this little pause to take a look at what I've actually been producing these last few months.
Thanks for reading!
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