10ccs : an independent and selective blog for a fandomless original character. low activity, nsfw & 21+ only. loved by billie. est 2016 & rebooted 2023.
can also be found at @baddluckclub
| caard | board | meme tag | what’s sam up to? |
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
will byers stan first human second
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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Discoholic 🪩

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wallacepolsom
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Today's Document

#extradirty
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

PR's Tumblrdome

ellievsbear

Andulka

@theartofmadeline
Show & Tell
Cosmic Funnies
i don't do bad sauce passes

Origami Around

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@10ccs
10ccs : an independent and selective blog for a fandomless original character. low activity, nsfw & 21+ only. loved by billie. est 2016 & rebooted 2023.
can also be found at @baddluckclub
| caard | board | meme tag | what’s sam up to? |
whoa ive logged on. if i made a starter call, would anyone want a little one
hello hi im still alive, just dont feel like writing on tumblr?? honestly you are better off catching me on discord rn. hope y'all are doing well!!
@coffincoven
“I’m really not sure about this idea.” Giving Juliet the reins as social media manager of the bar was a good idea. He doesn’t regret that one bit. What he does regret is agreeing to pose for photos for some posts, but he’s letting Juliet fix up his appearance anyway. “Hot chicks get people into bars. Like you. Not, like, me.”
ok like for a starter for real and i'll do them tomorrow pinky promise
AS SAID BY ANDERS * assorted dialogue from dragon age: II
i think something's moving!
i hear it's quite popular.
that's not strictly accurate.
i'm always happy to see your face... but it seems particularly lovely right now.
we've hardly met and i feel like i know you. am i making you uncomfortable?
you do have an opinion on mages, don't you?
can i ask you something, [name]?
i think we're better off focusing on the task at hand.
i shouldn't be seen here.
i've tried not to shout it from the rooftops.
i know it isn't my place to criticize, but...
oh, i'm sure i can get more creative.
a year ago, maybe we could have had something.
that's not what i was going to ask.
i need your help again. can we speak privately?
i'm your worst nightmare!
you're not nearly as selfish as you pretend.
i'm right here, you know. should i stick my fingers in my ears until you're done?
they never learn, do they?
not all mages are weak.
go ahead. say it.
you specifically don't mention me.
why would you shy away from loving someone just because they're like you?
i don't know how you live the way you do, blithely ignoring the consequences of your actions.
i'd like to attend the funeral.
anyway, you wanted to talk to me?
i can't believe you're still not taking sides.
i would drown us in blood to keep you safe.
i keep thinking i know you from somewhere.
we have important things to do. why do they insist on interrupting?
i don't think they're here to chat!
you take a grave risk in trusting me.
it's not a good feeling, you know.
i don't know whether to cherish every moment i am with you, or fear for you to have me there.
how can you have so much faith? does nothing bother you?
it doesn't matter. nobody deserves that.
you've messed with the wrong mage!
everyone, over here!
some things are worse than death.
want to see what's under these robes?
this is so not working!
so you're telling me you have no opinion on the matter?
where did you learn your magic?
do you ever have any regrets?
it was meant well. i don't know if that's enough to forgive me.
you don't like me, [name]?
my bruises have bruises!
i think i broke every bone in my body.
i'm not sure how much more of this i can take.
no! don't be dead! please!
any suggestions?
are you sure you want to encourage me? i might be about to confess my undying love.
you didn't have anything to do with this?
my face is the least of my concerns right now.
you're giving me that look again.
i'm a mage, not a miracle worker.
if someone here tries to hire me again, i'm leaving.
don't mind me. i'm just going to hide my face for a while.
it is still a thrill to turn and see you beside me.
your support has meant the world to me.
sometimes i miss being that selfish.
what makes this relic of yours so valuable?
you've got a real chip on your shoulder, you know?
i just figured some of them would say no. for aesthetic reasons, if nothing else.
i don't see how that's any of your business.
why don't you shout? i don't think everyone heard you.
i'm going to be a busy bee all weekend so i won't get to these until next week but like for a starter!
probs gonna delete all my drafts and start fresh with stuff
there’s something about music that makes xeno forget about everything else. he falls into a trance while playing the guitar, never messing up a single chord, head nodding along with the rhythm. as he listens to sam sing, the undercurrent of panic and fear always buzzing inside of him is silenced, peace finally found in the flow of a melody.
when the song finishes, his smile is wide and euphoric. he reaches out to hit sam’s shoulder lightly. “holy shit, man. you really can fucking sing.”
xeno’s little punch knocks his shoulder back a bit, a sheepish smile spreading across his lips that he manages to keep contained. he can’t look too enthused with the compliment. that’s not cool.
“thanks, man. i’m alright.” he sits back, getting comfortable, now that he’s no longer worried about his guitar in xeno’s hands, and nods at it. “you’re good with that thing. what else do you know?”
"Yeah-- yeah, I'm not stupid, I just--" Willow feels herself getting a little defensive. She worked retail for years, she knows how tills work in general - but she didn't want to fuck up his system by putting in random numbers when-- Willow shakes her head, reminding herself that she doesn't actually work here, and he seems pretty out of it with all the stress coming off of him. No point in getting into an argument over it. "I got it, I just wanted to check. I wasn't gonna fuck anything up for you. Sorry."
As she says this, she catches the eye of someone else looking to order and brushes past Sam to help with their request. Lemonade. Easy. She serves them no problem. Screwdriver next, which Willow by some miracle actually knows how to do. Anytime there's a slight hiccup with service (of which there have been just a few) she just bats her lashes at the customers and apologises with those big, dreamy and dark eyes: Sorry, I'm new. It's my first night here...
The rest of the night is chaotic, but eventually the traffic dies down and leaves a quiet moment for her to get a breather.
"Is it always that busy here?"
Sam expects the night to ease up eventually, but the crowd doesn't thin out until near closing when patrons begin stumbling for the door. Things slow down enough that Sam can catch a breather for longer than ten seconds. He's rinsing glasses when Willow comes up to him.
"Wha—Oh, no. This is new." And will take some getting used to. He thought he'd be running a slow dive bar for the rest of his life. He dries his hands off on a rag and exhales. "We started doing green tea shooter specials, like, two weeks ago, and I guess it's a hit." Whatever Juliet is doing with her promotion on Instagram is obviously helping too, but he leaves all the social media shit to her. That's not his forte.
"And uh—thanks for the help." He gives her an exhausted smile. "Whatever tips you made you can keep. Obviously. You work at another bar around here or what?"
"mrrp?" and at the same time the purring stops. there's a creak as the floorboards shift, and he crawls forward. seconds later, his head is poking out from under the bed, blue eyes staring up at sam. "what's a good thing?"
"the, uh—purring?" now he's doubting if it was purring. it sounded like it, but cat and vampires-but-not-exactly-vampires don't share a lineage. he thinks. hell, he could be wrong. the fuck does he know? "that's what that was, right—?"
↪ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 , 𝑰'𝑴 𝑨 𝑭𝑬𝑾 - ᶰᵒ ᶠᵃᵐᶤˡʸ ˒ ᵗᵒᵒ . 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑚 𝑖 ? ( a series of sentence starters from season 1 of “ orphan black ” . adjust phrasing as necessary . will be updated ! )
i wanna see [ name ] .
well , that's not fair , is it ?!
oh my god , you look like crap .
i didn't miss your birthday , did i ?
something really weird just happened at the train station .
what the hell is wrong with you ?
listen to me , [ name ] , i'm only gonna ask you this once .
oh , i'm fine by the way , thank you .
get in the car .
when you don't give a damn , i get pissed .
you'd better be ready . are you ready ?
you're sure as hell overdressed . what , were you out all night or something ?
this shit is as hard as it gets . but you've gotta stop making it worse .
i panicked , what do you want me to say ?
i'm kidding . where's your wit gone ?
you don't have to babysit me , dipshit .
i know this thing's got you all twisted up , but try to forgive yourself .
[ name ] , open the goddamn door !
yeah , the last thing i am is special .
[ name ] , where have you been ?
where have i been ? uh .. long story .
oh , jesus , are you alright ?
you have a few words , [ name ] ? anything you want to express ?
plead your mercy & your pity .
love is imperfection itself .
say it . go ahead , say it's my fault .
who the hell are you ?
of course not . you think we'd let that happen ?
i'm at home , you've got it all wrong .
you know what ? don't . i'm going to ignore that .
i'm worried you're losing the plot again .
sorry , i've got ... i've got a lot of work to do .
i mean , what am i supposed to do ?
you don't have to take this on .
i can't keep waking up every night , checking your breathing , worried you're mixing your meds , booze ... god knows what else .
i knew it was too good to be true .
why would you help such a stupid plan ?
i'm not going to play [ name ] in the middle .
i'm not dirty , i just freaked out .
if there is another version of this story ...
walk me through it again . so i know you won't crack under questioning .
you're making me nervous .
finally ! where have you been ?
who am i speaking to ?
how did you find me ?
idiot . do you even know who you're talking to ?
i don't care who you are .
nope , that is not my responsibility .
go , & wait for a call .
what i'm trying to do is move on .
we have known each other for awhile now , [ name ] .
i nailed it , man . every detail .
come on , [ name ] , give me a little love here !
you know , my skin just breaks out every time i leave downtown .
whoa , hey , [ name ] - you always do this to me !
i don't do backup , i don't even know what backup is !
i got stuck , i was running from my own shit .
i'm not giving you shit 'til you give me some answers .
don't ! do not shoot me , please !
seriously , it's life or death .
am i going insane ?
the lines of his body stay wired hard, taut. the whining from the chair clashes with oversensitive ears. a muscle in his jaw twitches. he could fix it, he thinks, looking at it. little hands, and all. combined with general knowledge of how things work, how to put stuff back together.
ultimately, he doesn’t bring it up.
“ that won’t be a problem. ” he flips the bag to the other side, colder, and places it back against his browbone. he exhales, shoulders only losing some of their tension, teeth biting over a ragged thumbnail. “ i have food in my bag, so. don’t worry about that, either. ”
“we got a kitchen, you know.”
it’s still kinda new to the bar, but leo’s a competent chef. sam lets him take care of the menu and ordering and there haven’t been any complaints yet. he leans back in the chair, swiveling it back and forth. when it squeaks again, he presses his heel into the ground to stop. even he can only take so much of the old thing.
“leo’ll keep his mouth shut if you want something. just text me and i’ll put the order in.”
This isn’t the first time this has happened, is the thing. Sam has been intent on kicking this before — and then he’s always ended up back at the mercy of this uncontrollable, all-consuming thing that Mack doesn’t intimately understand.
But each time, Mack comes to Sam with eagerness, with confidence, with one hundred percent willingness to accept Sam’s commitment to sobriety. Anything less than unwavering support, she’s realized, just won’t work — and it’s not in her nature to half-ass the way she cares for her loved ones.
“You’re gonna give it everything you’ve got, Sam, I know you are. And I’ll be just a phone call away — and if I don’t pick up, you just keep tryin’ people. Shit — do you have Cass’s number yet? JM’s?”
Sam picks at his nails, a nervous habit. He wants to believe Mack. He wants to believe that this time he’s going to give it everything he’s got. That this time sobriety is going to stick and he’s going to leave behind the drugs for good. He’s drawn to her unwavering support like a moth to a flame, curls his hands into fists like he can make it tangible and keep it close.
He’ll get it this time. He has to.
“Uh, no.” He’s never asked. It feels a little intrusive. JM and Cass are Mack’s people, not his. Despite everything Mack says, despite dinners and movies and all the times they’ve all hung out, he still feels like a bit of an outsider when it comes to the three of them. Putting his problems on them seems unfair, especially this one. “I don’t think they’re gonna want me calling them up at, like, three in the morning.”
he doesn’t answer that at first, weighing the pros and cons of the truth. it’s not like sam is gonna give a shit. “yeah.” he doesn’t specify which one he’s saying yes to because it’s both. the guy hadn’t walked in on them or anything but ace hadn’t cared much about hiding, it wasn’t his life that was gonna get blown up.
ace shrugs a little, following sam into the master bedroom. “she said he refused to eat her out, so i think i deserve some fuckin’ compensation for losing the gig.”
sam laughs, though it’s more of a cackle than anything else. he beelines for the big dresser in the room, carefully flipping open a jewelry box. inside is a small collection of gold rings and necklaces and he’s already doing the math. the shit in here might net him a good couple hundred at a pawn shop.
“i think you’ve got your compensation right here.” he rummages around and pulls out a gold ring with a big diamond embedded in the middle. he holds it up like it’s worth six figures to show Ace. “this thing better not be cubic zirconia or whatever.”
"it's almost noon, sam." juliet has been awake for hours, rolling out of a bed with little less than a headache. her makeup was still on and hair a mess, so she hopped into the shower. she also made a coffee and gatorade run, sitting one next to sam on her nightstand.
juliet thinks he looks a little out of place on her all pink bed, wrapped in a fluffy pink comforter. "i can't have you sleeping all day, i have things to do. c'mon, i got you starbucks and a sports drink. you really need to stay hydrated."
almost noon? sam groans, pushing himself upright, and dragging a hand through his mussed up curls. while she looks bright-eyed and ready for the day, he feels like he was run over by a semi-truck. it's not fair.
"how are you not hungover?" he asks, pained, reaching for the bottle of gatorade and fumbling the lid off. he knocks back a quarter of the drink in one go. "—i'll get outta your way soon. just, like—give me a minute. or ten."
@10ccs // Music stores used to be one of Julie's favourite things. Now she walks in it like she doesn't quite belong, like it hurts to look at the rows and rows of flute music as if she's betrayed it in some shape or form. And she kind of has — currently, she feels like there's no way to play music if she isn't being serious about it, and the idea of playing seriously about it feels like a knife to her gut and her heart and her brain and — it just kind of fucking sucks to think about music right now!
But she still likes them. And she likes visiting with Sam, because Sam doesn't go into the classical section. He is staring at a guitar in the acoustics section. Julie glances at him. And at it. And at him. And at it. And at him. And at it.
It's only, like. Three thousand dollars.
Tone innocently suggestive: "You should get that."
It's a Gibson J-45 with a vintage sunburst finish. Three thousand dollars and so far out of his price range that he feels like he's in a museum—look, but don't touch. God forbid he get his grimy fingerprints all over a piece of art like that thing.
Which is why her suggestion makes him bark out a laugh.
"With what money?" Between paying rent, running a bar, and being an addict, money is a little tight these days. He'll only get his hands on one of those bad boys if he wins the lottery.
He looks back at the guitar with a longing sigh. "I've got too many fucking bills to pay."