#i NEVER knew that i might try this sometime

[clusterbuck]

being unable to keep their eyes off of them please??

Eddie wants to get the hell out of here.

He feels kind of bad about it, because Bobby and Athena throw a great barbecue, and any other day of the week he’d love to grab a beer and settle in for as long as they’ll have him. Any other day of the year, really—

Just not the same day Buck kissed him.

He’d always imagined that if he ever scraped enough resolve together to try something with Buck, it would happen in the heat of the moment. After a close call on a rescue, maybe, or at a bar after a shift sometime, when he has just enough alcohol in him to push past the nagging doubts in his mind.

He’d always imagined that if anything ever happened, it would be because he took that first step. He could, when he was feeling hopeful, imagine Buck would be into it, but it had never even crossed his mind that Buck might want him enough to be the one to cross the invisible line between friends and something more. 

Only—

Two hours ago, he stood in the firehouse parking lot and watched Buck pace and forth in the artificially bright glow of a streetlamp for all of thirty seconds before drawing to a stop right in front of him, toe to toe across the faded outline of a parking space. 

“I’m going to do something,” Buck said, the warmth of his exhale ghosting across Eddie’s skin. “And you can tell me if I’m wrong. But—” he hooked one finger in the belt loop of Eddie’s jeans, tugging slightly, and the movement danced like lightning down Eddie’s spine. 

“—I don’t think I’m wrong.” 

And he tugged on the belt loop again, pulling Eddie closer into his space, and pressed his mouth to Eddie’s.

It seemed to last a lifetime, and it was over far too soon. Buck pulled back, careful, drawing a ragged breath, and Eddie leaned into chase him and found Buck grinning against his lips.

“Not wrong, then?” Buck murmured, and it took Eddie a moment to remember what Buck had said just before.

“Definitely not wrong,” he breathed. The words were half-lost in Buck’s mouth but he must have understood them anyway, because he laughed, bright and clear, before pushing Eddie up against the car behind him to kiss him again.

It was only when Buck’s phone rang, vibrating in his pocket so that Eddie felt it against his own thigh, that they remembered the barbecue. And that they’d promised to bring ice.

So now Eddie’s here, and for the first time he can remember he desperately wants to leave. 

He and Buck hadn’t really talked about it, so he’s trying to act normal. Which is to say he’s trying to act like he doesn’t want to walk across Bobby and Athena’s backyard and grab Buck by the collar to drag him in for another kiss. Or to demand what the fuck it means. 

He would describe himself as moderately successful. 

But in Eddie’s defence, if the rest of them knew the situation he doesn’t think they could blame him for the way his eyes keep getting drawn to Buck no matter where he is, like the universe is shining a spotlight on him. It’s not his fault Buck’s laugh lights up the room and he can’t help but look.

It’s not his fault that Buck catches him looking, sometimes, and smiles a smile that says he’s thinking about what happened in the parking lot. 

A smile that says he’s thinking about doing it again.

And it—well, maybe it is his fault when he grins back, his face trying to settle on something somewhere between wanting and bashful, but there are extenuating circumstances. He is, after all, only one man. 

Overall, Eddie’s pretty sure nobody could blame him for the fact that he wants to get the hell out of here.

Just then, Hen sidles up to where he’s leaning against the kitchen island and settles in next to him, mirroring his position and crossing her arms. 

“You should take your man home,” she says. 

Eddie flushes, and she laughs.

“You’re not being particularly subtle,” she says. “Either of you. I don’t know what happened exactly—” she raises a hand when Eddie tries to open his mouth “—and I don’t need to know. But you should take him home before it happens again on Bobby and Athena’s patio.” 

Eddie’s face feels so warm he’s surprised he can’t see cartoon heat lines wafting off his cheeks. 

Hen laughs again, gentler this time. “No one’s judging you, Eddie,” she says, and nudges him with her elbow. “I remember what it was like in the beginning. So go, take him home. I know you want to.” 

“I—yeah,” Eddie says, and lets himself grin. “I really do.” 

He doesn’t need to look for Buck, because he already knows where he is. He makes his way across the room, through their gathered friends and family, and over to where Buck is talking to Chimney. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as he does it, but Hen said it was obvious anyway, so he takes a deep breath and stands behind Buck, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder. 

“Hi,” Buck says, breathy with surprise but his cheeks pink with pleasure.

“Hen said I should take my man home,” Eddie says, and makes a concerted effort not to look at Chimney. He focuses instead on Buck’s cheek against his, and the way it crinkles when he smiles.

“Did she?” Buck says. “I guess we should listen to the captain, then.” 

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Eddie murmurs. They slip through the room, and Eddie tries to avoid Hen’s knowing look as they duck out of the front door without bothering with goodbyes.

As soon as the door closes, Eddie grabs Buck by the hips and pushes him against it, crowding into his space. “This is all I’ve been thinking about all night.”

“It’s only been two hours,” Buck says.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot longer than two hours,” Eddie says, and watches Buck’s eyes go dark. Then he grins. “Besides, do you want to nitpick, or do you want to kiss me?” 

“I can multitask,” Buck says, and Eddie laughs and kisses him for it, and for a moment the world narrows to just the two of them, wrapped up in each other against Bobby’s front door.

“Actually,” Buck murmurs, a moment or three later, when Eddie’s forehead rests against Buck’s and both their breaths come a little heavy. “I wanna change my answer.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “To what?” 

“I want you to take me home.”

send me a blossoming romance prompt 🌸

#911fic #buddie fic #ask emma #emma writes

[racinggirl]

you always will be

a/n: As a dedication to our boy's FIRST FORMULA ONE WIN, here a story that hopefully will be appreciated and loved. It's very different from my usual stories, and it may need some sort of trigger warning or just a warning in general. We don't always get what we want, and life can really be a bitch. Everybody struggles, it might not always be seen. I'm here for you <3

Warnings: mentions of car accident, hospital, breakup, swearing, death, cemetery, and some fluff bc I'm not THAT cruel

Also, please leave a comment/reblog, anything that makes me feel like you absolutely loved this story. It can also be a tip, anything to make my writing better and more enjoyable for you, thank you

Enjoy 🧡

Winning a race was something he dreamt of. Winning a race meant all his worries disappeared like snow in the sun.

‘You can’t win, you always fuck up’

‘Russia 2021 was the closest you’d been to a win, you’ll never get that chance again’

‘You should have switched teams when you had the chance’

No more. He won, and he’d be damned if he would ever let any hate comment, any judging advice or any disrespectful tone push you further away from him than you already were. He won, but somehow it felt like he lost.

‘’Mate, I don’t get it. Help me understand, okay? You won your first Formula One race. You gave all of them haters a big fuck you. You proved them wrong. The team’s proud of you, everyone’s cheering you on.’’

It was true, everyone was proud of him, everyone cheered for him, chanting his name after the podium ceremony. Everyone. But one person.

‘’Hello? Lando?’’ Max seemed worried, he knew something was bothering his best friend, he knew him through and through. ‘’You’re confusing me, mate. What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy? You can’t be too hard on yourself now, mate, you wo-…’’

‘’It’s her!’’ He finally snapped, all the emotions he had bottled up and put in that jar, stashed away somewhere on the back shelf of his heart AND brain sneaked its way through and made a reappearance.

‘’I won! Yes, I fucking won! But at what cost?! I lost her mate! I won and she wasn’t here. That doesn’t mean I fucking won. I lost, I lost it all, I lost her…’’

Max let out a heavy sigh. He knew something was bothering his friend, and he had a slight feeling it would have had something to do with the girl that stole his heart. See, you and Lando go way back, and you’d always thought you’d end up together, whether it was in England, in Monaco, it didn’t matter, what mattered was that it’d always been the two of you together, till it wasn’t.

‘’Lando…’’ Here it was again, the 'I feel sorry for you, but you need to move on' speech, which sometimes Lando could appreciate, but not now, not at a moment like this. However, he remained silent.

‘’Look, mate, I know it’s hard, okay? You.. You’ve dreamt of this moment for years, and I’m sure she’d have been by your side in all those dreams, but…’’

‘’But reality is, she isn’t. I know Max, I know.’’ Lando ran his face through his hair, then over his face. ‘’I’m going to get a shower.’’

‘’Lando..’’

‘’I’m gonna shower, Max, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave and let me fucking shower!’’ Lando snapped, he never did, but today was full of too many emotions he couldn’t handle, too many mixed emotions that made the bucket spill over.

Raising his arms in defence, Max stepped back and nodded, slowly. He knew Lando needed time, but tonight was the after party, Zak had scheduled the flight for this evening back by a day, which meant they were planning on partying all night long.

‘’No, Lando, it’s not okay!’’ Your hands rose up in the air, toward your hair as you tugged on it, gently, but enough to let your frustrations out. ‘’It’s not okay, how is this okay?’’

‘’I… We’ll make it work, I promise you we’ll mak-‘’

‘’Stop trying to fix everything! Some things just can’t get fixed, okay?!’’

Lando and you were like two puzzle pieces that fit, perfectly fine. But what happens when one day, the piece that made those two pieces of the puzzle once a whole, disappeared. Broke off. Got thrown away which made it almost impossible for those two pieces to ever become whole again.

You loved him, more than anything in this whole entire world. You were determined to give up everything you ever had to be with him, to support him through thick and thin and you would never. Ever. Give up on each other...

‘’It’s been 4 months, give him some time.’’ Pietra’s reassuring hand made its way to Max’ shoulder.

It’d been 4 months since you and Lando broke up. You’d said your goodbyes at the airport after the two of you decided it was best to part ways. Lando tried almost everything to keep you at his side, but he knew that loving also meant letting go. That was the hardest part of a breakup, though, but he’d manage. Or so he thought.

You were lying when you said the breakup hadn’t torn your heart apart. It felt like it went through a shredder and every time you’d tried to pick up a piece and place it back, it didn’t fit. There were pieces missing, some things were upside down, backwards, or not even in the right place. It was heart-breaking.

Your breakup was something that nobody had seen coming, the fans, your friends, heck, not even the two of you saw it coming. You had always been different, but that didn’t stop you. Where you loved to stay at home and read a book, Lando loved to go out with his friends, plan his schedule full of events and parties. You’d join him, every now and then, but you preferred staying home.

Until you didn’t. But then it was too late.

‘’My parent’s need me back home.’’ You explained, the warm cup of tea in your hand preventing you from shivering. You and Lando were outside, watching the snow fall down the sky and onto the grass of his back yard in London.

‘’Alright, I can come if you want me to, I’m free till-..’’

‘’No, Lando, they need me back home, permanently.’’ You let out a shaky sigh, tears prickling behind your eyeballs as you kept your gaze focussed on your tea.

You had lived with Lando for almost 3 years now, the two of you dating for more than 5 years by the time you moved in together. Your parents knew his parents, and so the ball went rolling till it came to a stop in front of the two of you.

‘’What? But…’’

‘’I know.’’ Your voice was barely a whisper, the tears that you were desperately trying to hold back now made its appearance. Your parents were sick, both of them. You loved them more than anything, so leaving them and going to London, then to Monaco with the love of your life made you both happy and sad.

‘’No, Y/N, baby listen please, we can make it work. Okay? I’ll come over every month, we’ll do it together, I can…’’ But he knew everything he was saying was a lost cause. Your parents needed you, and as much as he wanted you to be with him, he knew you loved your parents. He’d never forgive himself if you staying with him meant you’d barely see your parents again.

‘’You know we can’t. We’ve been over this before.’’ Your voice was breaking more and more every word. ‘’It’s okay.’’ You whispered, the tea in your hands not being enough to keep you warm anymore. ‘’It’ll be okay…’’

‘’… on your win. And let’s make this party one to remember!’’ Cheers were hearable in the entire club, Lando being one of them. He laughed, partied, and celebrated. He won, he couldn’t ignore that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think of how it could have been.

His job was hectic, of course. Being a Formula One driver – a race winning Formula One driver – meant events, races, meetings, and mostly, fame. You knew that if Lando would have stayed with you, if you would have done what he wanted – which was coming over once every month, it would bring attention to you and indirectly, to your parents, who could not use the attention at all.

After you and your parents got in a horrific car accident a few years after you and Lando started dating, the media was all over it. You barely had a chance to recover before the media would send you emails; press would be in front of your house and Lando’s interviews were all about how you and your parents were doing. It wasn’t healthy, at all. The press that did those things soon got boycotted by his fans, but that wasn’t the point here. They were there, they took away that bit of privacy you’d loved and cherished even more when Lando got more well known in the racing industry. When he joined Formula One.

You recovered completely – thankfully – but your parents, that was a whole other story. Both in a coma, one worse than the other, and the survival chances were low. Miraculously though, they woke up. The first 6 months, they had to stay at the hospital. Their wishes were to go home, so after 6 months, the hospital arranged things here and there so they could recover at home.

However, 2 years after the accident, you got the worst news possible. The car accident you and your parents were in caused your parents to both have brain damage, severely. They would need 24/7 care, and they would not get better. It was the worst possible scenario, but Lando was always there for you.

You just couldn’t do it, not with his fame, his busy schedule, your work. You worked from home, something you rearranged the moment you recovered from the car accident. It was the best option; you’d be able to work whenever you wanted, you could join Lando for his races. You could work from Monaco, England, it didn’t matter. You could work at home whenever Lando had a triple header, so you could take care of your parents whilst working from your laptop.

‘’You know they need me, and I love you so much, I…’’ The tears were streaming down your face after you had finished packing everything from Lando’s apartment – you were leaving.

‘’Shh..’’ Lando’s tears had dried on his cheeks, the sight of seeing you pack all your clothes in suitcases was the worst thing he’d ever seen. ‘’I know, sunshine, I know, but it’s okay. We’ll be okay.’’ He mumbled with the sorest throat from crying. He knew there was no more ‘we’ after you stepped out of that door. It was a commitment you made to each other.

‘If I need to go back and take care of them, move on. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life waiting for me because I don’t know how long that’s going to take. I can’t expect you to put a hold on your life and come with me. You have a career, and I need you to put that on number one, be selfish, please.’

He always responded with the same thing. ‘’It doesn’t matter, you are my number one, you always will be.’’

‘’Lando Norris, your number one!’’ The music was pounding in his ears, the smile he had put on for this evening was fading slightly. When there was no camera around him, he’d let it drop, what was there to smile about?

Three months later

Moving on from a breakup was one thing, moving on from a breakup in which both individuals still loved each other but had to let go was another. Moving on from a breakup after finding out your parents had 2 more months to live, was impossible.

Your parents passed away 4 months ago, 3 months after you and Lando broke up. It was the hardest period of your life, and at some point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to live the life you’d known for so long.

You’ve thought to yourself multiple times, why not go back to Lando? Tell him your parents passed away and everything would be okay. But that’s not the first thing that crosses your mind after your parents pass away. Especially not within the first four months of them being gone.

The number of times you’ve gotten close to pressing call on your ex-boyfriend’s number had been too many to count, but you couldn’t get yourself to do it. What were you going to say?

‘Hey Lando, yeah, my parents passed away, so I don’t have another thing to do, let’s get back together?’

Yeah, no. Not a chance.

You’ve watched his race win so many times it almost felt like you were there. You could imagine what it would have been like to be there, knowing the crew and drivers.

Why hadn’t you called him yet? Or why hadn’t you tried to congratulate him, reach out to his friends? No idea, you were still in that grieving state and you weren’t sure if you were going to break out of it.

That was until, one day, you saw this quote. It’s stupid to think one quote can change one’s perspective on things, but this one did.

‘If you don’t do it now, don’t regret it later.’

It was hard, doing the things you did, but not impossible. Impossible was getting over the death of your parents AND not having the one person you’ve loved more than anything not be there to help you through it.

So, you did it. You got in that car, which was something you’ve been avoiding after the accident, till Lando helped you get back into it. Your fingers dug into the leather of your father’s car, the one they left to you. Just like they left everything to you, the house, the money, the company.

A weak smile appeared on your face, so many memories in just one movement, one moment. The road was long, far, you had to stop at a hotel for a night of sleep before continuing your lonely road trip to London. Back to him. Because if you didn’t do it now, you would regret it later, and that’s something you couldn’t live with.

Another long day at the factory, more meetings, more shaking hands, interviews, you name it. His feet dragged him through the entire factory, not once, but three times already – and it was just lunch time. Things were better, he still missed you, but he was starting to accept it, just that, though, because moving on was impossible for him.

It wasn’t when one of the mechanics he always had lunch with called your name, that he turned his head so fast it would have almost gotten him a whiplash from the force and the speed. Your name, you were there, here.

A weak smile appeared on your lips. It wasn’t an easy choice, contacting Max, ignoring all his questions because you needed to see where he was, where the man you loved – and never stopped loving – was. It was bold, he might have moved on, gotten a new girlfriend, but you dug around the internet and didn’t see any signs of that being the case.

‘’Hey..’’

He was a race car driver, so he was fast, – very – fast. But the speed of which he got up and ran to you was another level. Your arms didn’t hesitate once. They found their way back around his neck, his positioned at your waist as always, and he looked into your eyes for a brief second, just to check, just to make sure that what he was about to do was okay. It was more than okay.

Your lips melted together instantly, his soft, warm lips immediately welcomed your slightly colder – due to the air-conditioning in the car – and even softer ones in a heartbeat. It felt good, it felt so good, you lost track of time, place and it was just the two of you in this moment. You did not regret it.

‘’Congratulations on your win, champ.’’ Your breath was a bit more rapid, your voice a lot hoarser than you would have liked it to be, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you had found your way back to him, like you always would have.

4 years later

It was no longer impossible. It was hard, for sure, but the moment you stood in front of their gravestones, your hand intertwined with his and a weak smile on your lips, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

‘’Mom, dad..’’ You whispered, head resting against Lando’s chest as he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple. Your hand rested on top of Lando’s, who had a protected arm around you, his hand rubbing small circles on your stomach. You played with his ring for a few seconds before you swallowed the lump in your throat. You looked up at your husband, who gave you a reassuring smile as you placed the tiny shoes on top of their gravestones.

‘’You’re gonna be grandparents…’’

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #f1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fan #formula 1 fanfic #formula1 #formula 1 fanfiction #formula one fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfiction #lando norris mclaren #lando imagine #lando x reader #miami gp 2024 #miami grand prix #lando x you #lando x y/n #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #f1 x y/n

[louscartridge]

bang chan with a reader who has daddy issues

bang chan x fem reader

cw- daddy issues and everything that comes with it (duh), mentions of sex and cockwarming, fluff, comfort.

a/n- whenever I see things with chan and daddy issues, its never actually daddy issues, its always just a daddy kink or whatever, yk? so this ones for all my stays with daddy issues out there 😞

❥ at first he'd think it was a bit strange, and he was a little confused. however, he wasn't surprised.

Chan had always had a good father, and he'd like to think he'd also be a good one, so he never understood how a dad could just be so rejectful towards their own child, but he knew that sadly, some of them are.

❥ you didn't even have to tell him about you daddy issues for him to eventually realize it. to be completely honest, he didn't ever know if you knew you had them.

❥ it was the way that you would grasp onto his arm, or get weirdly overly excited about small things, and some of your worries or things you would say that made him realize.

❥ but he knows that its the small things that you'd go over the moon for. he'd make sure you guys had movie nights, weather it would be with just the two of you, or the rest of his group, game nights, ect. he knows sometimes going out could be a bit overwhelming for you, so he'd try his best to cook for you. chan would also brush your hair every once and a while.... not only does he know you sometimes have trouble doing it yourself, but he also knows that it brings you some sense of comfort.

❥ one night you told him that you prefer to go to sleep when everyone was awake cause it gave you some sense of security, but you hated how alone you felt when you stayed up all by yourself. so now, he makes sure that you're asleep before he is. he'd lay there with you in his arms awake, for however long it takes for you to fall asleep before he does himself.

❥ Chan is so good at reassurance and reading you omg. he can tell when you're having your doubts.... weather you're feeling particularly insecure in the moment, or you're scared that he's gonna leave you, he can always tell. he's so good with his words, and his tone changes slightly whenever he's reassuring you in these moments. his 'i love you' somehow sounding so much softer then it usually does, along with his eyes looking much softer too.

❥ he doesn't want you to push yourself away cause you think he's gonna leave, hell always encourage you to talk to him. if you cant come out and say what you need, hell hint to the convo or start it himself.

using words face to face could be hard, he gets that. when you're too embarrassed to verbally talk to him about it, hell give you a piece of paper, and you could write what you need to on it, and give it to him whenever you're done. he'd never tell you when you needed to write on it though, that was all in your own time. even if you never gave it back to him, he just wants you to know that its always there for you to use and give to him.

❥ speaking of Chan being good at reading you, he can tell when you actually want sex or not. half the time, it's the look in your eyes. they're different, and glassy. not in a needy way or anything, but in a way where you look worried, scared, like you're about to cry.

sometimes you also use sex as a form of reassurance, but he needs you to know that you don't ever need to have sex with him just cause you think it'll make him stay. sometimes the two of you would just resort to cock warming if you really need to feel close to him, but hell try his best to turn you away.

"princess not right now." he'd say with his hands on both sides of your face, pulling you away.

"but daddy-"

"no, baby, im sorry. I'm always gonna be here tomorrow, and the next day, and every other day after, ok? I promise. I love you so much."

"always gonna be here." you'd nod to yourself with a small sniff.

❥ he understands that it might take you a bit to trust him, but he's so patient with gaining your trust. hell do everything he can to get it, and continue to do everything to keep it.

❥ Chan himself is a little possessive and get jealous easily, so he has no problem with that. what he does have a problem with, is the fact that half the time you're acting that way cause you think he's gonna leave or cheat on you. he'd never in a million years do either of those, and it breaks him whenever he thinks that you feel that. he never wants his baby to feel that way ever, but he knows there's not much he can do other then give you everything he has, and time.

you like that your boyfriend can be jealous and possessive tho. whenever he gets that way, you know for sure that he won't leave you. you are his, and he is yours. only and always.

❥ sometimes though, Chan does just need some space. there's nothing wrong with that, you know that. but you cant help but feel bad. 'was I too clingy? was I being annoying? oh god, he's gonna break up with me isn't he.' chan knows that's what you're gonna be thinking, so he always tells you a few days beforehand.

"babe, me and Felix are going somewhere on Thursday morning. I'll be back around 2:00 tho. ok?"

"why are you coming back so late?" you furrow your eyebrows.

"its a long drive is all"

he always comes back with flowers, or a stuffed animal, or something of the sort when he gets back. he'll text you and keep you updated whenever you can on days like that.

❥ since you're constantly around chan, you've gotten mad close to the guys. sometimes you find it funny, the group of you talking about how chan is always gushing about you, sometimes teasing him.

once you trust them enough, Hyunjin and Felix have field days with you telling them little things and details about your relationship.

#skysfavfics #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #ff #x yn #x y/n #x you #bang chan #bahng chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #skz #skz fanfic #straykids #stray kids #straykids x reader #straykids x you #comfort #fluff #daddy issues #bang chan comfort

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Guilty as Sin? - Chapter Three

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, Derrick shows his true self, Javier comes to the rescue, depictions of SA (minor, though proceed with caution), mentions of alcohol consumption

word count: 4.2k

series masterlist

Friday night marked not only the temporary break from having to see Dr. Peña every single day, but also your stupid date with Derrick. He’d been out of the apartment when you woke up, him and Nina off at the gym. Alondra crawled into bed with you, her laptop in tow. 

“I don’t wanna go tonight,” you grumbled, drawing the blankets up to your face as she got comfortable beside you. “Just tell him I’m sick or something.”

“He’s been looking forward to this all week,” she reminded, pulling up Netflix. “Hell, for the last four years.”

“Yeah, well I’ve been dreading this for the last four years so where does that leave us?” you challenged. “I’m supposed to make myself uncomfortable just to make his little dream come true?” 

“I’m not saying that,” she sighed. “I’m just saying what harm could come from going to dinner with him? He’s your friend, just pretend you guys are grabbing food or something casual.”

“But he won’t want casual,” you snapped, throwing your blanket back so that you could get up. “He’ll want the full treatment.”

“There’s worse men to pretend to like,” she said, closing her laptop as she watched you tug on a hoodie and sweats. “At least he’s good looking and harmless.”

“Harmless as a friend,” you pointed out. “Who knows what he’s like on a date.”

“That’s why you should go,” she urged. “To find out if maybe that’s what was missing—“

“There’s nothing missing!” you shouted. “I don’t want him, not because I just haven’t seen how charming he is, not because I haven’t given him a chance. I don’t want him because I don’t want him. End of story.”

“Then don’t go!” she shouted back. 

“How? How am I supposed to turn him down when I’ve tried that for the past four years and he doesn’t give a shit. He’ll keep trying and trying until I finally cave, so I’ll fucking go tonight, but this is it. No more putting his feelings above mine.”

“Then I don’t know why you’re complaining.” 

You took a deep breath, finding the patience you knew you possessed but seemed so far away in this moment. Out of all people, you expected Alondra to understand your side of the situation. She’d never spent a day in her entire life thinking about what a man wanted, what they were feeling and how she might accommodate for it. And yet, here she was demanding that you not only go through with this but that you shut up while doing it. 

“I just want to be alone for a while,” you said, dejected and hurt. “It feels like the entire world is turning for him and I’m just here. You and Nina love him, I know, but what about me?”

“We love you,” she said, her brows furrowing. “It’s just that sometimes it almost feels like you avoid the things that you know will be good for you in favor of shit that’ll wreck you. We’re just trying to show you that Derrick is a good thing.”

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m gonna be at the library until my lab. Tell Derrick I’ll meet him back here at ten.”

“Don’t be like that,” she coaxed, following you into your shared bathroom to watch you brush your teeth. “Don’t be mad.”

Spitting out the toothpaste, you tried to ignore her guilt tripping. “I’m not mad, I just want to be alone.”

“Fine,” she said, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Text me if you need me?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, watching her leave the room knowing damn well she just earned a spot at the bottom of the list of people you’d reach out to.

Dr. Peña’s lab went by smoothly, the undergrads taking their first quiz of the semester in absolute silence as you got to work grading yesterday’s assignment. Dr. Peña had been taking careful glances at you, his brow furrowed with concern. Not that you could blame him. For the last two days you’d been dressing to impress, or more delusionally, to seduce, but today you’d shown up bare faced and in sweats. 

Setting his pen down, he cleared his throat and walked over to your desk, causing your tired eyes to lift to his. “Everything alright?”

You nodded, giving him a forced smile that only managed to deepen that look of concern on his face. 

“Just tired,” you lied in a whisper, shrugging your shoulders. 

“I know these late night labs aren’t the easiest—“

“No, no,” you assured. “It’s not the lab. Just…personal stuff.”

He lifted his chin in understanding, his fingers tapping against the wood of your desk. “Well, if you’d prefer, you can finish grading those at home. They’re just going to be taking the quiz tonight, so we’ll be fine without our prized TA.”

You smiled at the compliment—or at what you assumed to be one. “It’s fine. Home’s not very appealing to me right now.”

“The offer stands,” he smiled, soft and almost unnoticeable before walking back to his desk. 

Too bad you noticed every single thing he did. 

After the lab, you headed home to get ready for the punishment that was an hour spent at the snobbiest restaurant in Austin with your not-so-friend. Derrick was locked up in his room, no doubt trying to overcome his jitters while you did the same. Only your jitters felt more like tremors, something deep in your soul cautioning you against going. Still, you persisted. 

Slipping into a skirt and your favorite top that gave you the confidence necessary to walk into this situation with your head held high, your makeup flawless and subdued, your hair just the way you like it, you took a deep breath and opened your door to greet Derrick with a forced smile. 

“You look…wow,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. While you smelled his clean scent, there was also a hint of something else on his breath—tequila, perhaps? “No one’s gonna believe you’re with me.”

You cleared your throat, glancing at Nina and Alondra who stood in the kitchen eavesdropping. “Let’s go. Don’t want to be late for your fancy reservation.”

He laughed, nodding as he held out his hand for you to take. You pretended not to notice it and busied your hands with holding your bag and phone, which…

Fuck, you forgot to charge your phone. 

“My brother recommended this place,” he said, brushing off your rejection as he walked you out of the building and to his car. “It’s where he proposed.”

“Mm,” you hummed, still lost in your head. 

“You like sushi, right?” he asked, opening your door. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, slipping into the passenger seat. “We’ve been friends for how long now and you don’t know that?”

He chuckled, buckling his seatbelt. “I don’t pay attention to little shit.”

You stared at his profile with something akin to disgust, the realization that he’d never viewed this friendship in the same light as you finally dawning on you. “Friends usually try to pay attention to little shit like that.”

“Yeah, well we’re a bit more than friends,” he smirked, glancing at you before bravely moving his hand to your thigh. You jerked at the touch, pulling away from him to turn towards the window. “So, uh, how’s Peña’s lab?”

“It’s good,” you managed, counting the streetlights as they passed by. 

“That’s shocking,” he chuckled. “What, he’s not a dick to them?”

“He is,” you shrugged. “But not to me.”

“For obvious reasons,” he chided. “Alondra told me about the whole don’t wear a skirt thing. Sounds like a fucking creep.”

“It wasn’t like that,” you argued, turning towards him. “And you can tell Alondra I’d appreciate it if she didn’t tell you all of my business.” 

“She was just looking out for me,” he said, giving you a frown. “Can’t have your professor trying shit if we’re gonna give this a real shot.”

“Derrick, I don’t—“

“No, just…let’s keep this date free of all that pessimist shit,” he snapped, reminding you of his inebriated state. Fuck, and you were in a car with this shithead? “Tonight I want you to put all that trauma aside for once and keep yourself open,” he demanded, causing your heart to race. 

What would happen if you didn’t? Would he hurt you? Would he shit talk you to all your friends? Would he make something up?

“Fine,” you managed, balling your hands into fists as they rested on your lap. 

After a car ride spent listening to him detail his summer of luxury, the two of you found yourselves seated in the restaurant located on the opposite side of town. You’d only been out in this area once to celebrate your first anniversary with Micah, though that time you were forced to split the bill. Derrick wouldn’t have any of that, not with his trust fund and need to prove himself. 

You didn’t speak much at dinner, not because you had nothing to say but because he wouldn’t stop talking. He’d covered everything from the first birthday he could remember to the day he first met you when you were both frightened freshmen on campus. Perhaps the trip down memory lane would’ve made you smile if it wasn’t for his wandering hands beneath the table. 

When the bill was paid and the two of you were on your way out, you thought the terrible night had finally come to a close. But of course it hadn’t. 

Derrick surprised you by pulling you into a dark alleyway, his hands greedy as he pulled you against his frame. You felt his lips on yours, taking and taking and giving you not a damn thing but a sick feeling of alarm in your stomach. 

“Derrick, stop,” you hissed, pushing against his chest as he continued to lean in, caging you against the stucco wall. 

“You want me,” he rasped, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as his liquor-scented breath flooded your nostrils. “You’re just scared of it ending badly.”

“No,” you protested, continuing to push him away. “I don’t want any of this. I don’t feel that way for you.”

“Yet you showed up wearing this.” You froze as you felt his cold fingertips graze the outside of your thighs, inching his way closer to the hem of your skirt. “Just…let loose for once. Let your guard down and I swear you won’t regret it.”

“I already regret it,” you hissed, shoving him hard enough to cause him to drunkenly stumble back. “You’re drunk and acting like fucking dick.”

He shook his head, chuckling at your words or the situation, you couldn’t quite tell. “I want you.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Four fucking years of waiting around, then you finally decide to go out with me, and now…what? You’re just gonna act like a tease?” 

“I’m going to beat the shit out of you if you keep talking,” you warned, though you knew your strength was no match for his. Still, female rage and adrenaline fueled you, coaxing you into not giving a fuck about the outcome. If he pushed any harder, you’d gladly fuck around and find out. “I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.”

“Stop,” he whined, grabbing your wrist to keep you from leaving. “Don’t be such a bitch.”

“I’m a bitch?” Fuck around and find out, it is. “I’ve been nothing but a good friend to you all these years, even knowing that you didn’t give a fuck about any of that. You’d rather I be in your sheets than in your life, that much is fucking clear now.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not cool to continue to give me hope—“

“I didn’t give you shit!” you yelled, yanking your wrist from his grasp. “How many times have we talked about this? How many times have you made me feel guilty for something I have no control over? I don’t want you, Derrick. I never have, and after tonight I certainly never will. Face it or don’t, but our friendship ends here.”

“We live together,” he reminded, stepping towards you. “You can’t avoid me like you avoid Micah.”

“Can’t I?” you chuckled, shaking your head. “You have no idea how easy it’ll be for me to pretend as if you never existed.”

He let out a huff of disbelief, shaking his head at you as if he had any right to feel disappointed. No, that right was yours alone in this situation. You thought you found a man who you could call a true friend, only to find out he was just as bad as the rest of them. Maybe worse given the way he manipulated you these past four years, all to earn your trust. 

You took off down the street, not caring about the looks you received from passersby. You just needed to get somewhere safe and call—

Fuck. Phone’s dead. 

With fear threatening to take over, you stumbled into the first open shop on the block, a very fancy looking cafe that was mostly stranded on the inside. Tugging down the hem of your skirt, you huffed a sigh in order to rein in the tears threatening to spill as you swung the door open. 

“Welcome in,” the older woman behind the counter greeted, giving you a judgmental once over as your heels clacked against the hardwood floor on the way to the counter. “What can I get started for you?” 

“I was just wondering if there was any way I could use your phone to call a cab? I promise I’ll buy something—“

“I’m sorry, we don’t allow customers to use our phones,” she frowned, a display of mock sympathy that threatened to wear down your last remaining nerve. 

“I understand, and I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency,” you pleaded. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, ma’am,” she sighed. “Phones are for employee use only. Perhaps you can find a payphone or—“

The woman was interrupted by a familiar voice calling your name. Stomach sinking to the floor, you turned to find Dr. Peña sitting in a booth by the window with his laptop. 

Fucking perfect. 

“Dr. Peña.” You greeted him with a sigh and a forced smile, reluctantly heading towards his booth. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, giving you a quick once over before lifting his eyes back yours. 

“Yeah,” you lied, giving him a quick nod. He tilted his head and you and gave you a look as if to say liar. Letting out the saddest, weakest laugh you might’ve ever uttered, you decided to hell with pride. “No, I’m…it’s been a long night.”

He ticked his jaw as he considered you for a moment, leaving you in sickening suspense. “What happened?”

“You don’t want to hear about all that,” you assured, wiping a tear from your waterline. 

“I do,” he insisted, nudging his chin towards the other side of the booth. “Sit down, I’ll get you a coffee.”

“You don’t have to—“

“Sit,” he ordered, that stern voice cutting through the clouds of self pity and anger still looming overhead. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Black is fine,” you lied, slipping into the booth as gracefully as your skirt would allow. 

It took him a few minutes to return, that time spent locked inside your head, watching a replay from an eagle's eye point of view. Derrick's hands on your body, his lips on yours, his vile claims and threats sounding over and over. 

“So,” he said, handing you your cup as he sat down in front of his laptop before closing it. “What happened?”

“I don’t…I don’t want anyone to get in trouble,” you prefaced, earning a hesitant nod. “Derrick—

“Mr. Crawley?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He’s been my friend for years now, we live together…but he has this really bad habit of not taking no for an answer.” Dr. Peña tensed, his jaw clenching. “That’s why I agreed to go out with him tonight, because I was just sick of having to explain that I only saw him as a friend. Thought I’d just get it over with, but that didn’t really go as planned.”

“Did he…try something?” he asked, his voice low and tense. You shrugged, questioning the entire interaction. If you hadn’t stopped him, if you hadn’t been brave enough to tell him no, would he have stopped? Did what he did really constitute assault? 

“I don’t know. Sort of,” you explained, tracing the rim of your cup as you spoke. “Dinner was shit enough, but then he cornered me in an alley, trying to cage me against a wall and…touch me, but I stopped him. Then he turned into this entirely different person than I’ve known all this time, called me a bitch and a tease. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize my phone was dead when I took off down the block, and now I’m stranded on this side of town. And truthfully, I don’t even know if going home is a good idea.”

Javier leaned back in his seat, raking his hands over his face. 

“I have a sinking feeling that if I go home, he’s just going to start shit again, which is the last thing I want right now.”

He nodded, understanding and sympathy in his eyes as he took a beat to think. 

“Firstly, I’m incredibly proud of you for sticking up for yourself. It’s not an easy thing to do, and you did it.” You refused to keen under his praise the way your heart demanded to. “If I’d have just put up with it—“

“Stop,” he said, shaking his head. “You did the brave thing and the right thing. He’s too fucking old to not know the difference between a woman who wants him and one who doesn’t. This shit is on him, alright?” 

You gave him a meek nod, still not able to look him in the eye. 

“I know you said you don’t want anyone to get in trouble, and I’ll respect that, but know that if you decide to report him, I’ll back you,” he offered, his eyes rounding and voice softening. “I don’t think you should go home. I—“ He sighed, lowering his hand to rest beside yours on the table. “I can drive you to a hotel, and if you need me to pay for it, I will. That way I’ll know you’re safe, and you’ll have your own space for the night.”

“No, that’s not necessary,” you assured. 

“No, it isn’t, but it’s late and you’ve clearly been through enough tonight,” he said. “But it’s your choice. I can call you a cab if that’s more comfortable.”

“Isn’t that…sort of against the rules? You giving me a ride?” 

He let out a soft chuckle. 

“It’s not ideal, but I don’t care about that right now,” he confessed, his pinky reaching out to brush against yours. “I just care about you being safe and comfortable.”

You bit your lip, eyes glued to his hand that seemed to be fighting an internal war over whether or not to reach out for yours. “I won’t feel safe and comfortable in a hotel. I’d just feel…alone.”

“I can’t,” he whispered to himself, moving his hand to his face. 

“Can’t what?” 

“Can’t do this,” he gestured between the two of you. “I can’t keep you company tonight.” 

“I didn’t mean—“

“I know what you meant, and I’m telling you I can’t let a student of mine crash at my place,” he sighed, conflict weighing on his face. “I’ll take you to a hotel and you can call a friend to stay with you.”

“I’m not going to let you pay for my hotel,” you protested. “That’s not happening.”

“Then what?” he asked, dropping his hand to the table. 

“I don’t know,” you snapped. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Here,” he handed you his phone. “Call a cab, they’re safer than an Uber.”

You stared at the unlocked screen, debating whether or not you truly wanted to handle things on your own or accept the help offered to you, even if it meant spending a night alone in a foreign environment, stuck with the flashbacks of Derrick’s hands on your body, his lips on your mouth. There was no safety in that, in being prisoner to awful memories you had no part in creating. The truth was that you needed him to distract you from yourself, and you didn’t care if you had to grovel or beg for it. 

“I’m asking you to please just…stay,” you whispered, too close to tears to speak up. “We don’t have to go to your place. We can go to the library for all I fucking care, I just don’t want to be alone. All my friends are his friends and I know what they’ll say about tonight. Everyone loves him, everyone wants to be his friend, and I’m just…around. They won’t believe me, and even if they do, they won’t see it the way I do.” 

Javier looked ready to tell me to fuck off and go find someone else to bother with all my problems, but threw me for a loop when he said, “Fine. Grab your coffee, and…here.” He held out a black leather jacket that smelled like him; whiskey, smoke, and warm spice. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, standing and draping the jacket over your shoulders as he gathered his things. 

“My office,” he said, his tone clipped and sharp. “It’s the only place where people won’t be around to see us. Not that I really give a shit, but you should.”

“You haven’t done anything but help me,” you offered. “I don’t care if people talk. You and I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“They don’t give a shit,” he countered, leading you out of the cafe. “Besides, we’re already breaking rules. Even if we aren’t acting on anything—“

“Is there anything to act on?” you probed, sticking close to him out of fear Derrick was still around searching for you. Dr. Peña shot you a knowing look over his shoulder. 

“There’s enough to drive me fucking crazy,” he admitted. 

You stopped in your tracks, shocked—and twistedly pleased—at his confession. He noticed your reaction, stopping to turn around and look at you with a pleading expression. 

“I didn’t mean—“

“I know what you meant,” you echoed his words from earlier. He ground his jaw and looked down at the sidewalk for a beat before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. You watched his lips mold around the cigarette as he took a deep drag, his brows furrowed as if he was in pain. 

“I’m not…” He shook his head again, looking up at the night sky. “I’ve been teaching now for five years. Never once have I done this shit. Never once have I let myself get involved. Until you.”

“Dr—“

“Javier,” he cut you off. “Call me Javier when it’s just us. It’ll make me feel better about how fucked up this is.”

“What’s fucked up about a woman in her late twenties and a man in his thirties talking?” you asked, stepping closer to him to feel a bit more of the thrill that did such a good job at blocking out all the bad shit going through your head. 

“I’m your professor,” he explained, watching you carefully. “There are rules against me developing this exact infatuation I can’t seem to fucking shake.”

“You’re infatuated with me?” you chuckled, more out of shock than amusement. Though you’d obviously sensed he saw some sort of potential in you that caused him to act like less of a dick than he did with everyone else, you’d have never guessed in a million years that he was interested in you. 

Javier chuckled darkly, stepping closer to you until you could smell his cologne. “Infatuated is an understatement.”

“And what would you say if I told you I was just as infatuated?” you asked, closing the gap between the two of you as you lifted your hand to rest on his chest. Not pushing him away like with Derrick, but beckoning him closer. 

He whispered your name, sending chills down your spin. “We can’t.”

“We’re not doing anything,” you countered, sliding your hand up to the back of his neck just to feel those soft brown waves that have been calling your name this last week. Javier grabbed your hand and lowered it gently, his thumb smoothing over your skin. 

“I’ll stay up with you tonight so that you can feel safe, but that’s it,” he whispered, his eyes darting across your face. “Okay?”

You wanted to frown, to throw a fit and beg him to not be such a stand-up guy, but that would be like asking a fish not to swim, the wind not to blow, a fire not to burn. He simply was a stand-up man and no amount of seduction could change that. “Okay.”

He let out a soft sigh, stepping away from you. 

“You’re lucky I have shit to grade tonight,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. “You might consider helping me with some of that, TA.”

You chuckled, nodding. “After a nap.”

“Sure,” he chided. “Take it that’s code for hell no.”

“Would you look at that. You’re more clever than you look, Professor.” 

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javi peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña x reader #guilty as sin?

[clone-anon]

I miss Tech. I know you might not be able to write for awhile and I get that. If you feel up to it though could you please write a fic where Tech is able to come to Pabu after tantis and finds out the Marauder is gone. Maybe reader (platonic/aromantic) comforts him with hugs and memories tks

Hello! I have some pretty strong feelings about Tech and how we still didn't see him in the entire last third of The Bad Batch. Here is hoping he will come home soon. And in manifestation of this....

Tech x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mention of injuries, but nothing explicit. No indication of whether Tech was CX-2 or not. Tech lives, obviously!

You sat on the landing pad near the ocean. It was empty now, but the last few remnants of the Marauder were only recently removed. In the rush to get to Tantiss, the people of Pabu did their best to help clean up the mess from the explosion while Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair left with Phee. You were among them, trying to grab whatever you could and sort through anything that you felt the brothers would want to keep. There wasn't much. Thankfully Gonky, Lula, Tech's goggles and various pieces of armor were already removed when the ship exploded. You did, however, manage to find and keep one thing.

You smiled to yourself as you looked down at the yoke and the lever used to jump to hyperspace.

"You recovered it?" Tech asked as he approached.

"I did," you replied with a smile. "I thought you might want to keep it."

Tech sat next to you with a flinch and sighed.

"You okay?" you asked.

"I'm better today." He was still healing, but mostly there. His family had waited until he was better to tell him about the Marauder. He didn't take it well, although he tried to insist it was merely a ship that could be replaced. You all knew better, but it was Tech's way to try to process the information.

Tech reached for the yoke and you gladly gave it to him. He held it in his hands as he had done hundreds of times while piloting the ship. It fit his grip perfectly.

"I requested this particular part," he said. "I requested the modifications to the Marauder. I was nine, but argued that since they felt we were nearly ready for battle, we should be able to get the best equipment. They made some of the modifications, but I made most of them. Even the ones they deemed unnecessary."

He reached for the lever and you handed it to him. He felt so natural holding these pieces, yet they were less familiar since they were no longer attached to anything.

"What was it like when you first flew the Marauder?" you asked.

Tech fondly smiled and answered, "The training simulations were not adequate, but I adapted quickly."

He grimaced, now faced with the thought that he would never fly his ship again. He would never have that home again. He took in a breath. Things changed, but he wasn't alone. He made it to Pabu, their new home. He put the yoke and lever aside and tried to smile at you. You opened your arms to invite him in for a hug if he wanted it. He didn't hesitate. He'd been separated from his family and friends for so long. He rested his head against yours and you held each other. While he wasn't usually one to cry, a few tears trickled down his face.

"I cannot explain why I feel this way. I'm home. We lived. I should only feel gratitude."

"It's okay, Tech," you reassured. "Sometimes I can't put my finger on my feelings, but I simply feel them. We're all built a little different. Besides, you survived a terrible fall. It takes a toll on your body, including your exceptional mind."

He nodded and took in a deep breath. You held him a little closer and waited for him to feel ready to let go. You stayed up with him and watched the ocean while he spent the night telling you all kinds of stories about flying and the modifications he wanted to make on a new ship.

#tbb #tbb fanfiction #tbb tech #tbb tech lives #the bad batch #the bad batch tech #tech lives #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #tech anon #tech x platonic reader #tbb tech x platonic reader #tech x gn!reader #tbb tech x gn!reader #reader insert #platonic reader

[yarrayora]

I actually really love ur interpretation of farcille where falin and marcille have a... Difficult time together. Because it annoys me when people treat their relationship like the most important one and also like they're completely perfect for each other. Because they're not! The bath scene itself is an example of how they're not completely on the same page yet. Marcille treats Falin like a precious toy to look over, even when she's clearly uncomfortable, and when Falin starts asking questions (because she knows something is up), Marcille shuts it down. Marcille doesn't treat Falin as an equal. Also the bits in the daydream hour where it implies Marcille wants Falin to dress a certain way or cut her hair a certain way because it looks good to Marcille.

Not to say that Marcille is evil, or even completely in the wrong. I think Falin has a bit of a bad trait where she doesn't talk about things that upset the ones she loves. There was an extra comic, if I remember correctly, from Falin and Marcille's school days, about Falin bringing food to Marcille's room and Marcille would just be like "??? What???" And eventually Falin just stops going to Marcille's room. But then later Laois explains that Falin was trying to get Marcille to eat with her, but eventually gave up without speaking about it at all. Or how she did drop the topic of her resurrection even though she knew something was wrong and deserved to know what was going on. And while she was under the influence of the dungeons magic, it's pretty in character of her to go hungry and not say anything because someone she loved (Thistle in that moment) wanted her food.

And that's not even getting into how many fans erase how important Laois is to BOTH of them and how much he loves them as well. (Marcille was definitely not his biggest fan in the beginning, but I think you could make the argument that by the end, she cherishes him almost, if not just as, much as she cherishes Falin. Not even in a shippy way)

Anyway. All this to say, I love farcille but they're not a perfect couple right now. I actually really like that ending you imagined a while ago where they never put a label on things and falin dies old and happy but Marcille keeps thinking of "what could have been". I think that's really the only way their relationship can end (unless they COMMUNICATE in the case of Falin and LISTEN in the case of Marcille)

here's the scene you mentioned!

i think theres a scene in a different chapter showing more of this but i cant remember lol so im not sure if falin stopped or not. but considering how falin grew up as a conveniently good kid for her parents i think it's in-character for her to give up in fear of bothering marcille

which is in line with chimera falin's attitude (WHICH IS SO COOL THAT HER CORE AS A PERSON REMAINS UNCHANGED DESPITE THE DUNGEON'S INFLUENCE)

and yes i think a lot about how laios is the reason they even go on the dangerous quest to save falin! he is what convinced marcille and chilchuck it's not too late for her! because they know hes knowledgeable about monsters, so if he thinks they can still save her then it must be possible! on the contrary, as shown by the official roleswap comic where falin and laios swapped places, she couldn't convince the party, not even marcille, to go save laios with her. further showing that laios is the person they trust as their leader

also regarding marcille and laios i think people sometimes forget that despite their difference branch of passions both of them are hungry for knowledge

hell, she might be the only one in the party beside laios who is in it for the sake of knowledge instead of glory and wealth (toshiro is in it to prove himself as a warrior, namari having to make up for her father's misdeed, chilchuck for the betterment of his people, and falin who is still at the stage of following laios and marcille's whims)

honestly i think it's inevitable for The Most Popular Ship to be sandpapered. in the end, shipping is about having fun with barbie dolls that have no agency to protest about how theyre being treated and we the shippers are gods ruling over fanon

but im also. kinda petty about it lol.

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi analysis

[666writingcafe]

An Army of Two

Belphie

I gently knock on MC's bedroom door, hoping that they're still awake--or, at the very least, not too deep in their sleep. After all, it is pushing two in the morning; the likelihood of them being up is pretty low.

To my pleasant surprise, they open their door moments later.

"Is everything okay?" they ask, stifling a yawn.

"There's an emergency," I tell them, making sure I sound serious. "I'll explain everything when we get outside, but we have to leave, and quickly."

"O-Okay. Can I at least change out of my pjs first?"

"Of course." MC shuts the door so that they have some privacy, but then they step out of their room a few minutes later. Together, we quietly head downstairs and into the garage. Opening a nearby toy chest, I begin fishing out various weapons and sticking them in various pockets. I don't know if what we're dealing with is human or not, and I don't want to take any chances, especially where Diavolo is concerned.

"Still got your knife?" I ask MC, glancing up at them. In response, they pull their jacket off to the side, revealing a sheath clipped onto their pants.

"Good. You might need it." I pull out a few small, human-safe blades and hand them to MC, who mimics what I've done with mine. It's a little strange that they haven't bombarded me with questions. They may be too tired to think straight, or perhaps they're extremely trusting, but either way it's a bit unsettling.

Once I've ensured that we're both armed, I grab the keys to the least grandiose car we have--a simple black four-door sedan--off its hook and hit the unlock button. I get in the driver's seat, and MC on the passenger's side. Soon, we're out on the road.

"Am I finally allowed to know what exactly is going on, or am I to remain oblivious?" MC asks me, clearly irritated. Making sure most of my focus is on the road, I reply,

"Someone's taken Diavolo. He left me a note."

"What did it say?"

"To the untrained eye, it was him trying to make amends with me. But we already had that talk several months ago, so I immediately knew something was wrong. As it turns out, he hid the actual message by making some of the letters bolder than others. He knew that I'd be able to decode it quickly once I figured it out."

"And he addressed it to you because...?"

"I'm able to keep a level head in crises. Everyone else either freaks out or shuts down completely, so they aren't able to be very helpful."

"Is that why you chose me to accompany you?"

"Partially. I was fully prepared to do this on my own, but I really didn't want to. It's always nice to have an extra set of hands. Plus, you've been able to remain calm in similar situations in the past, so I figured you could handle something like this."

"Well, I'm glad you trust me enough to do this." I find myself smiling slightly.

"I am, too." Things are silent for a few minutes before MC speaks up again.

"So, where are we going?"

"An amusement park."

"That's a strange place to take someone you've kidnapped."

"Depends. Whoever's behind this could need the space."

"For what?"

"Dark magic." MC doesn't respond. I wonder if I've scared them. I mean, I don't know what all Solomon has taught them so far. I hope that he's at least breached the subject with them, but it's hard telling with him sometimes. I can never get a good sense of his priorities.

At a stoplight, I turn my head to take a proper look at MC and freeze. The look on their face is downright terrifying, like they're seconds away from murdering someone.

"MC?" They take a deep breath.

"Listen, I don't know how helpful I'm going to be, but I'm not about to let some fucking lunatics hurt Diavolo. Not without a fight."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @anxious-chick

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me lord diavolo #wrote most of this on sticky notes while i was bored at work

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m not sure if the seasonal depression is hitting especially hard this year or if I’m just grieving for Mabel or if I’m finally going irreparably insane or if life/people is being unfair towards me or all of the above

#i cry super hard every day now. sometimes multiple times a day #sometimes something sets it off specifically (like arguing with my mom earlier) #but sometimes i just think about mabel too much and start sobbing #i thought i was okay. i mean i knew i wasn’t okay but i knew time would do its thing #the first few weeks were the worst but earlier this month i felt like i’d kind of plateau’d #like i was still sad but i could look at photos and videos and talk about her without crying. i was even laughing #now… now i can’t even think of her. again #it just feels so fucking unfair that i’ll NEVER see her again. like what the fuck do you mean. what do you MEAN #what do you mean i have to live out my whole life… god knows how fucking long i’ll live; and N E V E R see her again. shut the fuck up. #that’s so fucking unfair. and everyone else is okay. i’m like how can you POSSIBLY just go about your life #the best dog in the world is dead and she’s going to stay dead and i won’t see her again for however many fucking stupid cursed decades #i live and i might not even see her when i die. how the HELL am i supposed to be okay with that. is that a joke #and there’s a part of me that’s like ‘maybe i could adopt another dog’ but i don’t know #i think i’d feel better and worse at the same time. i wouldn’t feel so alone but they wouldn’t be mabel #i put in an application for a terrier that’s at a local rescue but if i don’t get him i’m not trying again. i’ll take it as a hint #cats aren’t an option btw i found out i’m allergic. which was brand new information.. i’ve been around cats that didn’t set my allergies #off at all. but i guess there’s a difference between spending an hour at your friend’s house who has one cat #and living 24/7 with a cat that gets fur and dander and saliva everywhere #and i don’t think other pets would suit me. i just don’t feel comfortable caring for any animal i haven’t done research on #i had hamsters when i was a teenager but… tbh never again. they are so much fun but i have anxiety dreams about them now #so it’s dogs (well.. one dog) or nothing #i do have plans to speak to my doctor about my depression btw because i genuinely find this unsustainable #like i do think it’s situational (seasonal/grief/everyone around me seeming to want to argue with me lately) but i still need #mood stabilisers while i’m in this situation lol #personal

[birbs-in-space]

fun fact about uquiz dot com is that their quiz service is actually incredibly broken. there's no guarantee your result actually matches your answers (i had a quiz last year that on testing actually only provided the right result less than 50% of the time) and sometimes it serves quiz takers every other question instead of all of them. so. that's why I've largely started using quotev instead.

#new post #i figure if i repeat this intermittently people will actually start to remember lol #i was trying to figure out why people i knew were being told they were getting one result while my page was saying they got another #i thought it might be a tie and it was just giving whichever result came first #sometimes it was but many other times it just gave. entirely different answers lol #anyway if you're serious about your quizzes. quotev might not have as much by way of aesthetic options #but you have so much to work with otherwise #this is also why i can never take uquiz results seriously. it's not every quiz that's affected but if you didn't make the quiz yourself #it's hard to know if your result is as good as random

[k0kichiimagines]

sometimes i think i am a little insane

#thinking about when i was 14 and got truly convinced everyone was out to get me #i used to get the whole house multiple times i was convinced someone broke in and only i knew and it was my responsibility #and that my family wasn't my family theyd all been replaced or one or two and again i was the only one who knew and it was my fault #and also that every food was poisoned and trying to kill me #and everyone was secretly hating me to the point of all working together to mock me and make me think they liked me #and one day everyone would all gather to laugh at me #it sounds insane but no i truly believed this i would have panic attacks every day multiple times a day 😭 #never told anyone because again i was convinced everyone was out to get me #ive had it milder since i was a child and i still sometiems get these insane thoughts but a lot less #sometimes i think im hallucinating #like smthing happens to someone and theyre fine but im half convinced im just hallucinating and theyre actually dead or kidnapped #i feel like i should put a tw on this ?? cause people who have delusions and psychosis it might not be good for them to read it #tw delusions #cw delusions #tw paranoia #i had no many nightmares #om that was a horrible time ive blocked half off it out #or i would be sure people would die in their sleep and have to keeo making sure they were breathing #or that my heart was beating i was waiting to drop dead any second #theres too much now i talk about it om i had so many other things 😭 #its probably symptoms of some mental disorder but tbh idrc what 😭😭

[killmebythebeach]

So was anyone gonna tell me that s5 is so unbelievably sad or was I supposed to find that out myself.

#like obviously i knew itd be sad but im two episodes in and ive heard tim for the first time in 40 eps and sasha for 120 #and gerry. ze boi. i didnt even realize it was him till the comics. why does he read like a teen protag in a ghost hunting story. #the leitner jumpscare to. sir. half the people in the institute would kill you on sight please go back to the tunnels. #elias being weird at jons birthday for no reason. like. i swear he wasnt that strange before the pipe murder dropping stuff for no reason? #'i like to keep an EYE on these things' sir with all due respect (none) shut the fuck up?! #idk why but tim and sasha talking like that just makes me so sad. of course its understandable for them to be frustrated #but also its not jons fault jonah chose him cuz he was traumatized by a spider book :( id be angry if i was sasha though #its also funny cuz i thought tim/sasha was a pyre fandom thing. no. tim literally calls it a 'will they wont they'. hes like a sitcom #gurtrude recording that tape to sasha basically lmaoooo #and i saw someone point this out in the comments but. gertrude keeping the place messy might have killed people. #not having easy access to information that could have saved them. such as her tape. ough #one thing i missed about tim in s3 is the charm. of course he was angry at. everything but it was heartbreaking to see tim change #so the tapes really made me just yearn for the like. two times tim was there in s1. #also the fact sasha knew about tims brother. and martins application. and that tim knew too. #i never really understood the fandom 'expert hacker' sasha but i think i get it now #i cant even remember if she hacked anything in s1. feels like so long ago even though i havent even been listening for 2 months #on that note martin and jon are going over to kill elias woo! #martin: hey this house is evil we should butn it #jon: nah. theres a lot of evil #holy fuck i forgot how stupid these characters can be sometimes. like even if you think it wont wotk just try? hello? #sasha calling gertrude a bitch is giving me life. yeah. she sure was. idc what she did she put micheal in the distortion #but im still so just. distraught by how somber the tone is. even with the s1 crew goofing around its just so. oof. #the funny quippy s1 crew cutting off to jon trembling alone in a corner does wonders for the tone #martin really went: i found the tea lets get this bread #king shit honestly. go get that bread and kill elias and stop the apocolypse or somethung. idk the goal of the season yet #like s1 focused on prentiss. 2 on stranger. 3 on the unknowing and elias. 4 on extinction and peter. im excited to see what 5 is #i dont even think weve met her but gertrude mentioning agnes. mwah. love you baby. doing great. shouldve gotten a coffeshop au. #sigh. statement ends #the magnus archives spoilers #the magnus archives

[tofixtheshadows]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.

#Dungeon Meshi #Delicious in Dungeon #Kabru #Kabru of Utaya #Laios Touden #Dungeon Meshi meta #you can have him in the tags too. as a treat. #Dungeon Meshi spoilers #this was directly inspired by livelaughlaios's post about Kabru self harming but I decided it got too long to make it a direct reply #this is a theory I've been working on for weeks because I kept noticing this while skimming for screencaps #I'm hesitant to trigger tag this because of the way certain subcultures on tumblr operate #but if anyone needs me to add a content warning please let me know #also I included image descriptions! I did my best #I think they even help illustrate my points but my god were they sad to write. Kabru is so fucking sad you guys #musings with Dea

[kittyfox]

Hello you beautiful person you!

Here is some old digital art of mine! These are Redraws of some of my old characters. I plan on making a video about my old art since I've constantly been putting it off for years, but I've got to that point of overthinking where I don't care anymore, and I just have to do it. Fuck my embarrassment, fuck my overthinking and worrying, I just need to do something. Cuase doing nothing is what I've been doing for years, and nothing won't get me anywhere.

Also been busy packing and house work since me and my family might be moving, so getting eome art done might take a bit, but I swear it won't take years! I'm trying to post my art now so I can't stop posting for years after posting one thing like I use to, so I swear it's not gonna be years! Maybe a few weeks at most, depending on the art or my personal matters in life.

And, if I take a bit in posting my art, I'll try and interact or talk with you guys instead! Like answering questions...I could have sworn i had like a few other things I was gonna write down that I can do one here, but I forgot...I got to questions and just, poof, all knowledge I have of this app and what you can do one here GONE.

If you do wanna know me, talk to me, or ask me stuff, PLEASE be patient with me. I have a lot of mental problems going on and I might as well have dementia with how bad my memory is, but I'm trying my best with what i can physically and mentally do, so please forgive me if I don't understand some stuff or mistake any sarcasm for you just being mean.

(I'll tell you this now, cuase if I don't, I know I'm gonna overthink, over share, and over explain myself if anyone asks. From what I remember, I have depression, ptsd, autism, adhd, i can't remember shit, I have extreme self hate issues, and extreme social anxiety. I'm sure theirs other things i forgot, but that's all i can remember for now)

#their so bad that i can't live or function normally like other people without a caregiver... #shits embarrassing man... #i know it's not my fault but still... #i hope this doesn't scare yall away or turn yall off from liking my stuff or interacting with me #i swear my communication skill ain't as bad online as they are irl! #despite any typos or misspelling...i swear! I'm just slow sometimes! #anyway...I'm trying to think of funny stuff to balance out the weird seriousness note i left this on... #eyyyy anyone here bi or pan like me 😅👍 #or don't even like labaling themselves? like me as well? ya just like whomever you might like? #did i spell labling right? i don't think i did...and my auto corret isn't sorrecting me #fuck #i just saw my misspelling on the last tab #god dammit >:( #why am i such a fucking grandma on this app #damn you Tumblr! i never knew how you worked and still don't! i don't wanna be a grandma! #still better then Twitter at least

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

#transgender #queer #transmasc #lgbtqia+ #trans man #sexism #medical sexism #feminism #male privilege

[sootonthecarpet]

(having a regular one) was growing up low key expecting uour mom to murder/suicide you in the van in the river, (and for nobody to blame her for it,) like, a normal part of growing up with profound neurological problems in the 2000s (a time of escalating news coverage of this kind of killing) or what?

#the narrative u always got was of this tragic mom who bent over backwards to help her kid/s until she couldn't take it any more‚ right? #which is also how my mom portrayed herself Generally. though she never said she wanted me dead (for which I'm grateful) #i just knew that getting momkilled was a possible‚ more or less socially condoned consequence of being a 'difficult' disabled child #and when I was already being abused by my mother in ways that often punished my neurodivergent behavior specifically #and had schoolteachers try to shame me into compliance in school by saying I was causing problems for my parents who worked so HARD 4 me #it wasn't a tough logical leap to make that one day there might be a tipping point where the hard work is no longer paying off... #and then; we lived close to the hudson; it would have been very easy. #we even had a minivan! idk why it always seems to be a minivan in these cases. tho ours was beat up and respectable #not the expensive sporty kind. we just needed to haul big objects around sometimes

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst #angst with a happy ending