#i'm trying not to let it get to me because i know the only answer is. well get on hrt now (i tried!)

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Eight

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

1.3K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

She laid back on the bed, far too calm for what Lando had just blurted out. "Run that one buy me again?" She said with her eyebrows raised.

It was a joke, it had to be a joke. She knew the rumours that surrounded this place, the stupid stories about the werewolves and the vampires roaming the town.

And Oscar and Lando were playing into it. They had to be.

Lando's head dropped and he let out a sigh. "I'm being serious," he said. It was far too late to backpedal now. "Oscar and I, we aren't human," he repeated. This time his voice was sure.

And, this time, she was less sure he was joking. "Oh, fuck," she said, sitting up straighter. But still, it couldn't be real, could it? They were human. Because, well, what else could they be?

Lando looked towards Oscar. "Show her," he said and nudged him.

In truth, Oscar didn't know how she hadn't noticed by now. He hadn't been trying to hide his fangs and, with how often he had his lips on her, he didn't know how she couldn't have known.

But he hooked his finger around his top lip and pulled it up, exposing his fangs. "I'm a vampire," he said, still lifting his lip. "And this dickhead is a werewolf."

"Fuck," she said through a hiss, shuffling back on her bed, away from them.

Shit, this was exactly what Oscar was afraid of. "Wait!" He strode forward, but she only backed up further. "Fuck, Lando, this was why I didn't want to tell her!" He snapped at the werewolf.

Lando's eyes flashed as he looked at Oscar. "You shouting isn't going to help, is it, Osc?" His words came out slow, almost dangerous.

Neither of them were looking at her as she got as far away as she could from them. Her heart was beating erratically and she held her chest. No matter how deeply she breathed, not enough air was getting into her lungs.

Shit, she was going to pass out.

Lando noticed first. "Oh, fuck," he mumbled and climbed over the bed to get to her. "Baby, baby, calm down," he said and held her upright. His hands were on her neck, touch gentle as he felt her elevated pulse. "We're not gonna hurt you, I swear."

Still, her breaths were coming out too quickly. But she wasn't pushing him away. Looking past him, over his shoulder, she locked eyes with Oscar.

Oscar, the vampire. Oscar, who hadn't hurt her. Yet.

She breathed deep and looked at Lando. "Why did you tell me this?" She asked quietly.

Lando's hands fell from her neck, into her lap. "I... thought it was better that you know," Lando answered just as quietly as she had asked the question. "I..." He looked back towards Oscar. "We, Oscar and I, we both like you." He said it so quietly, curls falling over his face as he looked down at her hands.

There was a moment where she said nothing, brows furrowed as she stared at them. "Wait, let me get this straight," she said and shook her head, almost like she was clearing her thoughts. "So, you and Oscar both like me. And to go about that, you guys decided to tell me that you're vampires."

"Werewolf," Lando quietly interrupted.

She glared.

But her attention quickly moved behind him, to Oscar. He hadn't moved away from the desk, hadn't met her eyes again. He stared down at his shoes, gripping the desk chair almost hard enough to break it.

"Osc?" She called and Lando moved to one side. "Why haven't you eaten me yet?"

His chest shook slightly as he laughed. The laugh only last a second, but his lips were turning up. "I don't eat people," he said and looked over to her. "But I don't drink from people that don't want it," he answered honestly.

Her expression softened. "How... what do you eat?"

Oscar breathed in as he thought about it. "Animals, mostly. But there is a select, small group of people that want us to drink from them."

And, again, she was frowning at him. "Really? People want you to drink from them?"

He nodded his head. "Apparently it feels good," he said rather nonchalantly.

With wide eyes and raised eyebrows, she turned towards Lando. "Huh," she said, but her tone wasn't questioning. "That's interesting."

Interesting. That wasn't the word either boy had expected her to use. Lando looked back at Oscar as Oscar looked between the two of them. And then, he turned back to her. "So, are you gonna kick us out?"

She shrugged her shoulders, which wasn't the most comforting thing in the world. Both boys were still as they waited for something, anything from her. Some indication that she was going to get her dad's gun.

She sucked in a breath. "I wanna know more," she said. "I get that you both like me, and I can't say if I like the both of you too, I'll be completely honest. But I'm not saying no, not yet."

Oscar let his head fall back. "Holy shit," he said quietly, his accent coming through particularly strong. "Those were the most anxiety inducing moment's of my life."

Laughing, Lando sat back, his back against the bed as he sat opposite her, legs stretched as far as they could go. "I genuinely can't believe you're giving us a chance," he said and breathed out a laugh. And then he was looking up at Oscar and beckoning him closer.

Oscar pushed himself away from the desk. He strode around the bed and sat beside Lando, leaning against the bed with his legs between them. "I genuinely can't believe you're not kicking us out," he said, trying to mimic Lando's voice.

She knocked the both of them with her feet. But then she was looking up at them with a seriously expression. "What happens on a full moon?" She asked Lando.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Heightened emotions, less control over when I change and... horniness."

The last part was said so quietly, she and Oscar almost missed it. But their giggles signified that they had.

"Can I see you change?" She asked through her giggles.

Lando was suddenly standing. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, over his head, dropping it on the bed. The two of them were unashamed in their staring, enough to have a blush rising to Lando's cheeks.

"Look away, both of you," he insisted as he unbuttoned his jeans.

"But we were just getting to the best part," said Oscar with a grin as she pouted.

But Lando stopped and held his hands on his hips, not going any further until the both of them looked away. Oscar stared at her and she had her hand covering her eyes.

Sucking in a breath, Lando pushed down his shorts and transformed. He'd long since passed the stage when his bones hurt as he transformed. No, the sensation was somewhat nice as everything snapped into place and his body grew fur.

When he was fully transformed he jumped on the bed. She lowered her hand from in front of her eyes and Oscar turned around.

Now, Oscar didn't gasp like she did. No, he'd seen Lando transformed before, had been attacked by him, too. But she was in awe as she stared at him. Pushing up from the floor, she slowly walked towards him and stretched out her hand. "Can I?" She asked.

Lando pushed his head into her hand.

If you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to buy me a coffee

Taglist: @biancathecool

@rewmuslupin

@prettiest-at-the-party

@hellowgoodbye

@minseok-smaus

@formulaal

@darleneslane

@hiireadstuff

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@evlkking

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@honethatty12

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@not-nyasa

Series taglist (CLOSED): @cmleitora

@booksandflowrs

@evie-119

@annispamz

@neilakk

@ginsengi

@lighttsoutlewis

@charleslecler

@eviethetheatrefreak

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#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x you #landoscar #landoscar imagine #landoscar fluff #landoscar x reader #landoscar x you #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #poly!f1

[mins-fins]

can't take my eyes off of you

&&. being in a relationship with na jaemin makes your heart rate pick up in just the slightest.

pairing: na jaemin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, idol!jaemin x makeup artist!reader

warnings: none! jaemin is just a little shit

word count: 0.6k

notes: this is much shorter than what i usually write im sorry im just in my nana feels right now 💗 na jaemin afshsgsssys 😖😖 he has me doing backflips on my bed with how insanely beautiful he is (is NOT athletic at all) also yes the title is based off the song by lauryn hill bc ms. lauryn hill actually saved my life with her studio album!! okay enough of me enjoy ( ≧ᗜ≦)

of course he's a fucking multitasker.

having to deal with na jaemin not only filming, but undressing you with his eyes at the same time was a prospect you never thought you'd see with your own two eyes.

but alas, here you are, getting stared down by the alluring center of nct dream. his eyes holding a certain gaze he'll only ever show to you, the members have already been eliminated in his eyes, and with filming the furthest thing from his mind, you're currently his main focus.

you sigh and shake your head, cheeks reddening as you hear his distant snicker in reply. you just turn your head to watch him from behind the camera, he looks beautiful, a bewitching sight in the lens of the film before you.

another touch-up.

the director yells cut, and jaemin turns on his heel to beeline towards you, the members' chatter fading into the air as a smirk tugs on his lips. you know it won't be the last time he has to come to you for another touch-up, he messes around constantly, often smudging his lipstick in the process, a mistake that you often have to fix. being a makeup artist isn't easy, especially with this demon as your boyfriend.

"hey beautiful stranger" he grins, white teeth on display.

he's staring at you as if he's about to devour you, unashamed in the way he licks his lips as he looks you up and down.

"hi jaemin" you answer back with a small smile.

"jaemin? no baby? no honey?"

he teases you softly, lips jutted in a pout as he nudges your shoulder. there's a spark in his eye, one that reminds you of exactly who you're dating. he knows it's risky to be acting so lovey dovey with you in a room full of other staff, but he just can't contain his love for you, you're so precious.

"not now, nana.. come on, let me fix those lips of yours".

he steps closer, and you start working, his breath tickles your fingers as you start to apply a new layer of lipstick. a smile breaks on his face and his hands slip around your hips.

"jaemin".

"have i told you how gorgeous you look today, baby?"

you roll your eyes, giving a final look at your work.

"you always do, and you look amazing by the way".

he hums, moving away from you as he clicks his tongue. "all because of you, y/n".

and then he's turning again, going back to filming as he begins whistling the tune to the group's title track.

when he turns back to stare at the camera, he slyly winks at you, an action that has your cheeks reddening to the color of your burgundy tshirt.

cut!

he walks up to you with dangerous eyes, and you already know the teasing is about to get worse.

"y/n, my dear stunning makeup artist".

somehow, his voice manages to get even lower, a revelation which makes you involuntarily shudder, a shudder he clearly picks up on, if his smirk is any indication. the distance between you two is safe this time, his hands placed obediently behind his back. you break into a soft smile, and jaemin giggles, scrunching his nose.

the movement accidentally smudging the lipstick at the corner of his lips.

"jaemin".

"i'm sorry, sweetheart, i can't help it when i have such a cutie in front of of me that i love so much".

"ugh, shut up, let me fix that".

you bring your thumb to the corner of his mouth, trying to erase his tiny mistake.

you hear him take a deep breath, then exhale as his head turns towards you, your finger ending up right on top of his lips.

you look up and lock eyes with him.

his lips quirk up into a smile, and he places a gentle kiss to the pad of your thumb, a swift sweep of the tongue.

he pulls back with half-lidded eyes.

back in 30 seconds!

then he's gone again, back on the set as if nothing happened.

yeah, you're doomed.

#na jaemin #nct #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x reader #jaemin imagines #jaemin drabbles #jaemin scenarios #jaemin x reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

[j4eyunz]

guys hear me out.

i'm not a writer and i feel like this idea is kinda dumb bc idk shit abt singing but imagine vocal stability training with heeseung but with a twist. i had fatal trouble in mind for this after hearing him talk about how difficult the high notes would be to sing live while dancing so..

warning : implications of head & sub hee in mind cuz yea. idol heeseung still & you're his gf

this was also a bit longer than i intended Sorry.

english also isn't my first language so sorry (x2) if the grammar is shit and theres lots of repitition i cant be bothered to actually edit this

----

imagine they have a cb nearing and heeseung has a high note he's really trying to hit for a song while dancing. heeseung struggled already having to sing it in the recording booth, now it's even more difficult after they learned the choreography.

it's hard for him to keep the pitch right as they sing and dance and no other form of vocal stability training has worked for him. heeseung tried running on treadmills while singing, staying extra hours in the practice room to dance and sing, but still struggles. it frustrates him way more than anyone else because he knows he's supposed to be enhypen's main vocalist with perfect pitch. there's so much pressure on him, he hasn't even focused on you, so you think of one last method that could hit two birds with one stone. vocal stability, and finally getting the attention you had been missing.

he's been missing your calls & texts all day, being too preoccupied with the recording sessions. you text the other members and finally get a response from jake around midnight saying that heeseung is probably still at the building practicing alone.

fast forward, you drove yourself to the building and find the practice room you expect heeseung to be in, as it's the only room with a light still on. as you approach the room, you hear heeseung's pretty voice singing but cracking from time to time and frustrated groans that follow.

you quietly let yourself into the practice room, closing the door and locking it behind you. heeseung doesn't notice you come in, dancing with strong movements and singing. even with all the mirrors in front of him, your boyfriend didn't notice you. you take it upon yourself to call out his name.

he looks confused until his eyes meet yours in the mirror and his gaze visibly softens.

"hey, pretty. what're you doing here? it's dangerous for you to be out so late." heeseung spoke in a gentle tone as he tried his best to hide his frustrations instead of projecting onto you. you, on the other hand, couldn't help but salivate a bit at the fact how he was drenched in sweat.

"you didn't answer my calls. i was worried, you know? i know you're stressed but that's what i'm here for. that's what a girlfriend is for, 'seung." you replied and began walking up to him. he was sweaty, but you didn't care. you wrapped your arms around heeseung anyway.

he practically melted in your embrace and planted a soft kiss to the underside of your jaw. he pulled away from the hug & planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"i'm sorry sweetheart. i know i've been a terrible boyfriend lately. i just.. got preoccupied. i can't hold my notes while i dance. i'm stressed out, the comeback is so soon and i'm not confident in my part yet." heeseung's eyes met yours as he spoke and one of his hands snuck to your waist, resting on your lower back.

"i know that hee. but.. i think i can help you out."

to heeseung, your words were cryptic. your expression was unreadable to him, and he looked at you with widened eyes as you forced him to sit down, his back up against the mirrors.

"i'm gonna help you heeseung. you're going to sing for me, and i'll suck you off. if you get through your parts perfectly, i'll reward you real good when we get home. if you can't.. then.." you paused your words as you began to untie the strings of his sweatpants. heeseung immediately realized what you meant and dropped his head against the mirrors behind him and let out a quiet whine. his length was already hardening under your gaze. "if you can't make it through your parts, then i guess you just won't cum. got it?"

you smiled at heeseung and the way he nodded frantically.

his length was fully hardened now, and your soft hand removed it from the confines of his sweatpants and boxers.

"well? what are you waiting for, seungie? start singing." you smirked at heeseung as you blew hot air onto his tip. his thighs twitched a bit and he closed his eyes. heeseung took a few seconds to regain his composure before opening his eyes and starting from the very beginning of the song.

your mouth sunk down on his length almost immediately when he properly started singing, and heeseung realized just how difficult this method of vocal stability training that you came up with would be, compared to the other ones.

still, as he managed to hit the first difficult note perfectly and had your mouth sink even lower on his length.

your boyfriend considered in his head that this method just might be the best one.

#sub heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enha smut #sub!heeseung #enhypen sub #sub enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen smut

[kendallroysmethpipe]

🩷 YCH COMMS (MOVING FUNDS) 🩷

I'M BACK AND IVE GOT NEW POSES FOR YOU GUYS TO CHOOSE FROM BECAUSE I STILL NEED MONEY 😸 !!!!! I'm moving within the next week, so it would be nice to have some extra money for things like gas/furniture/essentials. This time I decided to do some summer themed stuff ! These are the two poses you've got to pick from ;

YCH 1

YCH 2

Both of them will be $20 each ! Just like last time, I'll have 5 slots open at a time so I can keep track of what I'm doing ! I have memory issues and get stressed easily 💔 I accept Pay.pal, Cash.app, and Ven.mo !!

I WILL DRAW:

- Self Insert/OC x Canon/OCs

- Furries

- If you're a normal reasonable person just ask me if you're wondering and my answer will probably be yes lol

I WON'T DRAW:

- Anything that I'm uncomfortable with (ex. Anything involving Kendall). I'll let you know if what you ask me to draw makes me uncomfortable and will probably decline your request if we can't work something else out

- Real people

- Should go without saying that I'm not drawing anything for pro-shippers !

- Very complex designs/outfits. Not only are they difficult for me but very time consuming ! I try to get these done within 1-2 days after a slot is filled

SLOTS

1. @mrs-bluemarine

2. @transchainsawman

3. OPEN

4. OPEN

5. OPEN

DM ME IF YOU'RE INTERESTED ! 🩷🩷🩷

#commissions #self ship #self ship community #self ship commissions #ych commissions

[vasyandii]

I'm kicking my feet I love your oc Vernon! Let me pry though: have Vernon and AM ever kissed, or will they ever kiss? Also does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him or when she touches him, like in your art of her using him as an AC LOL

AAAAH Howdy howdy!! I'm so glad you like Vernon as I've worked real hard on her! Thank you so much for the ask! 💞💞 I will be answering these in reverse order!

VernonAM 🏺🖥️

Does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him/when she touches him?

I like to believe AM's come a long way with being touched. When he first transferred his consciousness over to his body, it was sensory overload. The WORST kind.

Everything was too loud, too quiet, he could smell EVERYTHING, everything was too hot, too cold, not hot enough, his mouth felt dry even with the saliva he had, how much it hurt feeling the air in his lungs, HE COULD FEEL HIS EYEBALLS IN HIS SKULL. It was like being born, it was awful. Like Nietzsche said; "To live is to suffer."

Vernon sat him down, trying to calm him since this is technically the first "human" she's seen after 109 years.

AM could feel every fold of his clothing rubbing against his skin, every microscopic fibre stabbing his skin. The residual warmth from Vernon touching him to sit him down so he wouldn't collapse caused AM to start screaming, sobbing.

Because he had no mouth (roll credits) prior to this, he didn't know how to use it to form words. He couldn't articulate what was wrong in his fit of screaming and tears.

And so his body went limp not 10 minutes after. He got out of there, telling Vernon that it's the closest thing he could compare to the torture he put on the other five. Vernon had to convince him to come back again or she'd tear the damn body apart and eat it.

It took months, baby steps of getting him adjusted in being a man. They spent weeks on smell, touch, and heat before they would even consider movement. It was tough on Vernon's end, smart as she is, she's a terrible teacher, asking AM to leave her alone for a few hours or days, lashing out when he's in such a vulnerable state.

But Vernon persisted, and finally AM got to hold her comfortably. Fast forward to now, AM has grown quite fond of the sensation of touch and touching things just for the sake of it. They could be sitting and he'd have it so their shoulders are touching.

AM is fond of Vernon's touch, that's the only time she's gentle (despite her words) with anything that might have the possibility of breaking. He enjoys her softness and warmth; How protective she is of him. AM can't articulate genuine care since his hatred for humanity is still there, but he's grateful, even despite his taunts.

Have AM and Vernon ever kissed? Will they ever kiss?

They kiss often, those two degenerates. It almost makes me jealous how often they kiss (D1 hater over here).

Vernon's technically kissed him before, just to get him comfortable, but it's never on the lips or near his face, usually his wrists and knuckles. Exposure therapy along with affection, basically. He didn't try to kiss her back until he was fully prepared to.

After fully adjusting to his new body, AM was finally able to kiss Vernon. He wasn't very good at it his first attempt. It was more similar to AM headbutting Vernon than an actual kiss.

Having a body gave way to a new emotion; embarrassment. Since he's now technically on the same level as her (in height as well, he's a lil dude) he was embarrassed that his first attempt didn't go as planned. When he didn't have a body, there was nothing to be judged, but now he does.

After brushing it off as him being curious and just feeling like headbutting her, AM didn't attempt to kiss her on the lips until he was sure he was ready.

Their proper first kiss was quite nice.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my mad man words! I tend to ramble a ton, so if there's anything you'd like for me to clarify, feel free to tell me!

#VernonAM #Ihnmaims #am ihnmaims #vernon ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #vernon i have no mouth and i must scream #am i have no mouth and i must scream #allied mastercomputer #veomany vernon inthalangsy #art #digital art #artwork #original character #ihnmaims oc #oc x canon #oc x cc #fanart

[lestappenforever]

DROP THE TEXT EXCHANGE FIC 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

I would like to preface this by saying that threats are not a good incentive to get me to write anything, anon. But, you're in luck this time because I was already feeling inspired as hell.

The text exhange in question.

Dedicated to @f1writingbyme, for once again being my muse, allowing me to scream ideas at her, and helping me decide on the very important details along the way.

AO3 link.

---

There's a hand on his shoulder during his post-qualifying interview in the media pen; a firm squeeze followed by equally firm pats, and Charles knows who it is before he even lays eyes on Max. After all, he could recognize that touch anywhere, at any time.

His face lights up with pure glee at the sight of the Dutchman, the way it always does.

Green eyes meet blue, and despite Max's own disappointing qualifying landing him in a measly P6, the Red Bull driver looks at Charles with nothing but genuine joy and pride. Because in spite of his own struggles, Max is irrevocably, endlessly happy for Charles.

Max knows how much this means to him — has been there for every single disappointing weekend the Monégasque has experienced in his home race over the past few years. He's seen the heartbreak in his eyes, listened to him raging about the mistakes made there in the past; both by Charles himself and by his team. As with practically everything else in his career, Max has been right there with him. And for that reason, Charles is absolutely certain that even if Max had ended up having to start tomorrow's race from P20, the Dutchman still would have found it in himself to be as happy for Charles as he would have been for himself had Max been the one to secure pole.

They clasp hands like they have done hundreds, if not thousands, of times before. Max's grip is tight, but Charles' is even tighter, as he is overcome with a realization that has hit him so many times before over the years:

He doesn't want to let go. And he can tell by the way Max squeezes his hand one more time that the feeling is mutual.

Charles sees his own emotions, his own desires, reflected in those beautiful blue eyes — can feel the electricity simmering between them, just beneath the surface, the way it has done for so many years. Always there, close enough for them both to reach out and grasp and yet, just out of reach. It's a line neither of them have dared to cross, both highly aware of the fact that if — when — they do, there will be no going back.

The unasked question that has always been there, but never spoken aloud, lies heavy between them.

'Are you feeling this, too?'

'No,' the other would always answer, just as silently as the question itself. Even if it's a lie. Even if it has always been a lie; one they've both told themselves and each other as a way to ensure they don't step over that line.

But, in that moment, Charles is sure he would never even want to go back. Sure that if there is one thing he wants almost as much as winning his home race tomorrow, it's crossing that line with Max. To give into that oh-so-powerful pull between them they've both been trying and failing to ignore for God knows how long.

They maintain eye contact only for a mere few seconds, but it's enough for Charles to see that flash in Max's eyes.

He wants to cross that line, too. It's about time. It's long overdue.

Max lets go of his hand and walks away, and Charles looks down at the ground briefly, trying to will his cheeks not to flush with the intensity of such a brief exchange in front of the camera, before returning his focus to the interviewer.

His mind, however, never lets go of Max.

If Charles hadn't already felt like he was flying, he sure as hell is now.

***

His phone vibrates in his pocket a little while later, and Charles feels his heart picking up the pace as he reads Max's name on the display.

'Congratulations on pole! Well deserved!'

His heart flutters.

'Thank you! I'm so happy 😊'

He sends a second text immediately after.

'It's a shame you're not up there with me, though'

Max doesn't leave him waiting long for a response.

'Still 78 laps to go, mate. You think I won't do everything to get into the top 3 tomorrow?'

Charles glances around, making sure nobody is paying attention to him as he tries and fails to bite back a smile as excitement starts coursing through him.

'You really think you can overtake two Mercedes, at least one McLaren and a Ferrari?'

It's a stupid question, Charles knows, because if anyone can do it in Monaco, it's Max fucking Emilian Verstappen. But he can't resist the jab; can't resist the urge to try to get under Max's skin, just a little. Just like he hasn't been able to resist since he and Max first met back in karting when when they were literal children.

The bubble with the three dots appears briefly before disappearing and reappearing a few seconds later. Then:

'To get to share a podium with you in your home race?'

'I could overtake Michael, Seb and Ayrton if I had to.'

The smile turns into a full-blown grin, and Charles feels giddy as he reads the two messages over and over again. The anticipation thrumming within him, bubbling just underneath the surface of his skin, is so overwhelming he needs three attempts to send his next message that consists of a single word:

'Yeah?'

Then, with more confidence:

'Prove it.'

Max's response is immediate.

'Oh, I will.'

As he pockets his phone, his heart beating wildly in his chest and his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he knows Max isn't just talking about the race.

He hadn't thought he could feel even more excited about tomorrow than he already did, but as he has done so many times with so many things in the past, Max proves him wrong.

***

On Sunday, Charles is preparing to leave his driver's room and make his way to the garage to get ready for the race. But as he opens the door, he's met with the familiar face of Max Verstappen.

"Max, what are you—,"

The Dutchman places a hand on Charles' chest and firmly pushes him back into the room, following him inside and closing the door behind him with his foot in one swift movement. Charles barely has time to process what's happening before Max has grabbed a hold of his shoulder, turned him around and pushed him up against the wall by the door.

Charles has effectively lost his ability to speak as he watches Max lean in until their lips are mere inches apart.

"I needed to see you alone, before the race," he says, voice barely above a whisper. Max's hands drop from his shoulders, instead sliding down his chest, his stomach, coming to a halt on his waist. "To wish you luck."

Charles swallows past the lump in his throat. "You think I need it?" he asks, trying to sound calm and collected, but his voice betrays him almost as much as his dilated pupils do.

"No," Max says immediately, allowing his lips to brush featherlight against Charles'. It's not a kiss, and even if Charles so desperately wants it to be, he doesn't cross that line.

Not yet.

"But I wanted to do it anyway," the Dutchman adds, moving one hand from Charles' waist and raising it to cup Charles' jaw instead, letting his thumb drag gently over the Monégasque's bottom lip.

It sends a full-body shiver through him; one Max notices if the way the small smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

"Good luck, Charles," Max whispers, thumb still on Charles' bottom lip as he leans in closer, closer, until his lips are touching the back of his own thumb, the digit being the only thing separating them.

Charles' heart is beating so hard that he's sure Max must be able to feel his pulse against his thumb. The Dutchman's other hand tightens on Charles' waist, his pupils practically making the blue of his iris disappear altogether.

The thumb moves and Charles thinks that Max will finally — fucking finally, after far too many years — kiss him.

Only for Max to lean his head to the side and instead presses a gentle kiss to Charles' cheekbone; a careful brush of lips against soft skin.

"I'll see you on the podium," he breathes against the skin of Charles' cheek, before pulling away completely and turning to put his hand on the door handle. He pauses before opening the door, looking at Charles with an expression the Monégasque doesn't think he's ever seen before.

"Hey, Charles?"

The Monégasque blinks at him.

"Are you feeling this, too?" Max asks him then, voicing the question that has only been asked through looks up until that point.

And Charles, knowing there is only one correct answer — knows there is only one answer that conveys the truth — sticks with the lie.

For now.

"No."

Max smiles at him, a soft and private thing. Charles' own expression morphs into one of adoration and longing. He returns the smile.

"Me neither."

And with that, Max opens the door and walks out of Charles' driver's room, as if he hasn't just turned both their worlds upside down.

#Asks #Lestappen #Lestappen fic #My writing #f1writingbyme #Lestappen drabble #Ilse's neverending adoration tag

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part six

authors note: i'm very sorry in advance for how this ends, it was just getting wayyyy too long, and there was no good place to slice it in half, so i cut it before shit unfolds, so yes please don't hate me!!!

pairing: roman reigns x black!reader

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive dialogue, angst

song inspo: ‘with me’ by destiny’s child

words: 6.5k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“Whoa.”

Mariah’s reaction is expected. Your living room, specifically the sofa, is occupied by several of Callie’s dolls. A tea party that you were so kindly invited to attend this morning. 

“Girl, you should see her playroom. Pretty soon the floor is going to be non-visible.” 

A small part of you regrets not trying to straighten up before Mariah came over, but this is also your literal best friend. You know she’s seen more than almost anyone else in your life, and she would never judge you, let alone over the state of your apartment when she has a child of her own. 

Mariah looks over at you with a raised brow. “He did all this?” You nod. “Why?”

“Because she’s his little girl and of course he’s going to spoil her. A quote.” You chuckle as you and Mariah decide to just sit at the kitchen island. It’s probably best to leave the dolls untouched as Callie’s likely to wake up from her nap wanting to play again. 

Mariah gives you a look. “You don’t find that weird?”

Confused, you ask, “what?”

Mariah shrugs and circles the top of her water bottle with her index finger. “I don’t know. He just found out about her, and now he’s buying her stuff? Seems like he’s trying to buy her love.”

“You don’t know Joe.” It’s an easy dismissal, because you do know him and know that’s the last thing on his mind. “That’s not him at all. He just wants to see her happy.”

Mariah looks unfazed and stands ten toes down, adding on, “then he should be here full time instead of randomly popping in.” You just look at her, slightly confused where this is coming from. “I mean, I’m happy she’s getting to know him, but this is all so messy, you know? He’s married. He has a wife, and he’s coming here seeing his secret child with his secret mistress.”

You can only look at her, stunned by her words, even if a small part of you knows there’s some element of truth. Joe swiftly dodged the only question you’ve asked about how and when he’s going to tell his wife about Callie. It was a valid question that deserved an answer.  But the things Mariah is saying, you can’t tell if it angers you because it’s not true or hurts you because it is. 

She seems to detect your conflicted emotions and reaches over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be negative. I just remember how hard it was for you when you and Joe broke up the first time. I hated seeing you so hurt.”

“We’re not together, Mariah. We’re coparenting.” You hate how soft your voice is, giving away that her words now have your head spinning. 

“So you honestly mean to tell me that you have no feelings for him? None whatsoever.” You can’t give her an answer, or either refuse to. It’s another valid question but the answer isn’t as simple for you to express. You know you feel something for Joe, but that could just be because of the fact that you two share a child together. There has to be some type of emotional connection between any two people who create life. “Exactly. Just be careful. He broke your heart once before. Don’t let him do it again.”

Your feelings are so mixed, agreeing with certain aspects of what’s being said and disagreeing with others. Mariah has triggered some big thoughts, ones that you probably should sort through at some point. You’re just not eager for right now to be that moment.

“Enough about me, what’s been going on with you?”

You pray she knows you well enough to know that you’re desperate to change the subject. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like we haven’t spoken much lately, and I know that’s partially on me. It’s just been a lot on my end, I’m sorry.” 

She shrugs. “It’s cool.”

Something tells you that she’s just saying that, and there’s a level of bitterness towards you for the distance. But, you can’t allow yourself to be hurt by that, because it’s fair. Mariah has been too good of a friend to be ditched the minute your ex comes back around. 

‘How are things with Caleb? Are you guys getting along any better?” Caleb and Mariah have only been married for two years but have already hit a rough patch, enough where he’s temporarily moved out of the house. Last you spoke with her, they were supposed to meet up to discuss what they were going to do, especially for the sake of Miach.

“Did you see him at my place last time you were there?” Her response is all you need to know that that is still a sensitive spot for her as well. Understandably so, but her shut down is so cold and unlike the sweet, gentle friend you’ve always known her to be. You were always known as the outspoken, brutal friend, though it seems that maybe as the years go by, the roles are reversing. 

Unless there's something else at play.

—-------

Today is going to be a good day. 

For Callie at least. 

Your earlier conversation with Mariah, who seemed far too eager to leave when you mentioned Joe would be arriving in less than two hours, is still circulating in your head. You know she’s only trying to look out for you, and you’re very appreciative of that, but there was some undertone to the way she spoke to you that you can’t shake off. Like, it wasn’t coming just from a place of concern, but something else that didn’t seem as genuine.

“Mommy, why are we cleaning?”

Because mommy is too broke for a maid.

You instead settle on the answer, “because we want our home nice and clean, baby.”

“But, it is clean.” She’s not entirely wrong, it’s just every so often you like to deep clean, dusting, mopping, the extra shit that usually isn’t done with daily cleaning. 

Taking a break from wiping down your kitchen counters with some overpriced cleaner you picked up from Target, you see Callie is ready to be done, the dust rag you’d given here now sitting on the coffee table.

With a heavy sigh, you ask, “you wanna play, don’t you?” Her eyes widen and her head nods enthusiastically. A quick glance at the clock indicates that Joe should be knocking at your door any minute, so you try to buy some more time. “Alright, let mommy finish here, and I’ll come play with you.”

“Yay!”

Chuckling, you listen to the sound of her run in the direction of her playroom while you finish scrubbing the counters, even if they’re as clean as they can get. It’s most likely a result of all the overthinking you’ve done the past few hours. The older you get, the more you realize you’ve become that ‘i’m anxious, so let’s clean until we’re physically exhausted’ mom. Which, technically, isn’t a horrible thing, but it’s also probably not the best way to deal with your emotions.

Not that you’ve always been the best with that either.

And that’s when you hear it, the solid two knocks you’ve been waiting for all morning. 

Smiling, you call out for Callie who marches out seconds later with a doll in her hand. “You wanna see who’s at the door for mommy?” Callie looks rightfully confused. At the same time you taught her how to open, close, and lock the door because you never know what can happen, you stressed to her that she is to never open it without permission or unless during an emergency. So, you emphasize, “it’s okay.”

Shrugging, she skips, literally skips to the door. You chuckle. This kid has so much damn personality. Moving to the sink to rinse your hands, you move slowly, waiting for it.

A loud gasp. “Joe!”

You can mentally picture the absolute surprise and happiness splashed over her little face. Grabbing the towel to dry your hands, Joe walks in holding Callie who you haven’t seen look so happy since the last time Joe was in town. 

“Mommy, Joe’s here!” 

Kids announcing the most obvious things will always be hilarious. “He sure is.” Leaning against the counter, you focus on him. “Hey.” He looks good, but he always looks good. That was always the damn problem.

He takes in you for a second, eyes lingering longer than what’s probably necessary, “hey.” He easily returns his attention back to Callie who can’t seem to stop smiling, which makes you smile. You love seeing her so happy. "I missed you."

"I missed you too!" She glances over at you, partially contrite. “Mommy, I’m gonna play with Joe instead, okay?”

You pretend to be shocked, standing upright and crossing your arms and making a face before laughing, waving her off.

“That’s fine, baby, because I am going to take a nap.” It’s much needed. Your sleep has been kinda shitty lately, and you know yourself well enough to know that exhaustion makes you bitchy. And the last thing you want is to unintentionally take that bitchiness out on her. Even Joe. Walking up to them, you poke him in his stomach. Jesus, he’s ripped. “Help yourself to anything. Just make sure she doesn’t destroy my house, please. And make her clean.”

At that, her face sours, and Joe chuckles.

“You got it.”

Satisfied, you walk back into your room, deciding to close the door. Callie will absolutely welcome herself in if need be. Plopping down on the mattress, you stare up at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath, momentarily stopping yourself from closing your eyes. For a second, you forget that Callie is not alone and unattended, thus preventing you from sleeping.

Call it being an anxious, overprotective parent, you’ve never allowed yourself to nap when it’s just the two of you. Even when she’s asleep, and when you do, you set an alarm to wake you up every ten minutes, just to make sure she’s still knocked out. It makes taking time to rest pretty difficult, if not impossible, but it’s what makes you comfortable.

It’s an easy sacrifice to make for your child.

So having another adult around, her dad, of all people, is a nice feeling. You know she’s safe and watched over. And it’s what allows you to actually fall into a peaceful slumber. 

Just for a little bit.

—-------

It is, in fact, just for a little bit.

Because you’re awoken by your phone ringing, your mom on the other end wondering what time she can expect you and Callie to come over.

Shit. 

You completely forget that you’d agreed to bring Callie to see her as it’d been “too long," according to her. You partially agreed, realizing you haven’t visited your mom since the day everything went down, what with you reaching out to Joe again and that whole fiasco.

And that’s another thing.

Your mother has no idea he’s back in the picture.

Walking out of the room, you find them in the living room, of course, watching Toy Story 2. 

Callie’s eyes light up when she sees you, but that doesn’t pull her from her position, tucked right under Joe’s side on your sofa. If you had your phone, you’d try to snap a picture. 

“That wasn’t long,” he snickers, and you glare, stopping yourself from flipping him off.

You move over to the sofa, sitting on the armrest. “That’s cause my mom called and woke me up.”

“Grandma?”

Nodding, you explain to both Callie and Joe. “I forgot we were supposed to go visit her today.”

She moves up on her knees, asking, “can we go?” She looks over at Joe. “Joe can come with us!”

You consider her suggestion. Your mom didn’t even find out about Joe until you told her you were pregnant. You kept that part of your life a secret from her for good reasons. This doesn’t seem like the best way for her to find out, to drop it on her yet again. However, one look at Callie’s desperate expression, and you already know your answer.

“Of course,” you then add on, “if he wants to.” 

Callie, being Callie, answers for him. “He wants to!” She tugs on his sleeve, excitement bubbling. “You can meet my grandma!”

You glance over at him, “are you sure? I’m sorry, I know this was supposed to be one on one with her….”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “If she wants to go, let’s go.”

You nod, praying this doesn’t end up being a bad idea.

—-------

“Mama!” You call out, watching Joe shut and lock the door behind him. Seeing that allows you to focus on where the hell your mother is. She usually meets you at the door when she knows you’re coming over. “Where is this woman?”

The car drive was pleasant enough, Callie talking almost the entire time, as expected. And Joe eating it up the whole time, also, as expected. 

You can see now he’s definitely going to be that dad. The dad who finds anything and everything his kid does to be adorable. You can’t wait for him to be on the receiving end of one of Callie’s temper tantrums and see how he handles it. 

“Grandma!” Callie suddenly calls, all the while keeping her hand in Joe’s. “I’m here!”

Finally, the sound of footsteps from upstairs as your mom comes down the stairs, home phone, yes, a home phone, held between her ear and shoulder. “I told her Bishop wasn’t gonna go for that, but you know how she is. Old fool.” It’s when she’s in the vicinity to see that it’s not just you and Callie, her eyes grow wide. “Cheryl, let me call you back.” 

Damn. 

You know that tone, that ‘let me talk to you’ tone. 

Thankfully, you get a brief save. The sight of your mom makes Callie drop Joe’s hand to sprint off to meet her on the steps. “Grandma!”

She leans down to pick up Callie, smothering her with kisses. “My favorite little lady.” 

Callie giggles as your mom descends from the steps, Callie on her hip, to approach you and Joe who’d, wisely, remained quiet up until this point. 

You watch your mom’s eyes land on him, but before she can say anything, Callie jumps in. 

“Grandma, this is Joe! He’s mommy’s friend and mine too!”

Fuck. Your mom’s eyes travel between him and Callie, once, twice, and on the third time, you know. You just know that she knows.

And that’s when you jump in, knowing you desperately need to speak with her. “Callie, why don’t you show Joe the play area?” 

Her eyes blaze with enthusiasm as your mom places her back on the ground. Callie’s little feet carry her back over to Joe who seems to understand you need to talk with your mother.

“Come on!” Taking his hand, she begins to direct him to the back of the house and through the sliding door. 

Your mom waits until she knows the two of you are alone to speak. “Girl, you done got my blood pressure all up.”

“Mama—”

“That’s Callie’s daddy, ain’t it?” She doesn’t even give you time to answer. “Don’t try to lie, either. She looks just like him.”

There’s no need in denying the obvious. “Yes.”

Her mouth drops open in rightful shock. “And just when did you plan to tell me he was back in the picture?” The questions keep coming, understandably so considering how you’ve just dropped this on her. “And why is she calling him by his first name?”

“Because she doesn't know,” you answer the second question, hating the disappointed look on her face. “We–he hasn’t told her yet.” 

“It just keeps getting worse.” She’s rubbing her temple and you just know she’s gonna need to take an Excedrin before the night is over. “Tell me everything. Now.”

And so, you do, starting with Callie’s initial question about her dad, to your phone call with Joe, his visit where he confirmed he had a daughter, all of it. And when you’re done, your mom is visibly shaken.

“Lord, he found out about her through social media?” You still feel badly about that, about a lot of it. “Well….does his wife know?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so. We haven’t really talked about that yet.” Before your mom can protest, you add, “we will. I’ll make sure of it. He just wants to get to know her first. For himself.”

Your mom chuckles, obviously having studied the close interaction between the two of them in the few minutes she’s been privy to see them engage with one another. “seems like that’s already a done deal.” 

“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “He’s really good with her.”

And it’s the truth, Joe seems to be naturally good with a lot of things, but there’s something so impressive about his ability to interact and connect with Callie. It’s so natural. 

“So, are you two…..”

“No,” you shut that down immediately. “We’re just trying to navigate coparenting.”

Your mom nods but doesn’t say anything, and you know her well enough to know it’s because she doesn’t entirely believe you. But, she won’t push.

“Well.” She claps her hands together, nodding to the backdoor. “Let me go properly introduce myself, since you got me out here looking rude. Probably got that boy thinking I don’t like him.”

“I promise, he’s not like that.” You two start walking toward the backyard where you’re certain Callie is talking a hole in his head, describing the play area your mom put together just for her when she spends the night.

She places her hand on the sliding door but pauses to look at you, “let me just say this though, that is one fine young man. I see now why you had a hard time letting him go. The devil sure knows how to tempt people.”

“Mama!” You try to suppress your laughter as the two of you walk out, sure enough to find Callie on the swing, Joe pushing her as they share their own conversation. 

She walks up to him, wearing a warm smile, giving a wink to Callie. “I’m so sorry about that. My daughter just didn’t tell me you were gonna be here.” 

Joe, forever respectful, starts to indirectly apologize.  “I hope it's not a problem. If so, I can—”

She waves him off, “oh, hush.” She leans in to whisper, “you’re practically family.” He returns her smile as she introduces herself by name, he offers his, and your wonderful mother then informs, “well, this one is gonna help me tend to my garden, cause winter will be here before we know it.” She leans down and kisses the top of Callie’s head, as she’s stopped swinging and is instead sitting. Her eyes light up at the idea of gardening with your mom. The same way you used to garden with your grandma. A bit of a tradition being passed down. “And in the meantime, you two can go finish organizing the office.” 

Your eyes widen. No wonder she didn’t hear you all coming in right away. That room, once your bedroom, became your mom’s storage area and over the years has accumulated stuff on top of stuff. Nowhere near a hoarding level, but just a lot of things that she doesn’t want to part with but needs to organize. “Mama, that's not—”

“I don't want to hear no complaining. You really want me up on that ladder?” You roll your eyes, realizing she’s referring to the top of your old closet where she keeps the storage bins of memorabilia, mostly photos. “I'm not getting any younger. What if I fall? Then you gon feel bad.”

“You're so dramatic.” Your mom acts like she's 75 and at death's door sometimes. The woman is 52 and teaches a Zumba class at the rec center every Saturday. She could fall and jump right back up like nothing happened. 

She places her hand on Joe’s arm, smiling slyly. “You got this strong, handsome man to help you out.” One thing you’ve learned as you’ve gotten older is that your tendency to unintentionally flirt from time to time 100% came from your mother. Clearly. “Besides, if you do fall, you'll be fine. You got enough booty back there to cushion it.”

“Mama!” One glance at Joe, and you see him make a face that reads clearly 'she's not entirely wrong.’ At that, you shove him, not that it does anything. He's solid as a rock. “Fine, we'll organize your mess, but not for long. Joe is only in town until tomorrow night, and he did not come here to be a part of your cleaning crew.”

“I don’t mind,” Joe adds. Of course, he doesn't. He hasn’t seen it yet, and he’s a gentleman. “Whatever you need help with, I’ll do it.”

Your mom gives you another look and then looks at him. “I like you, Joseph.”

Callie lifts her head, adding, “I like him too!”

I like him too.

“Well, get to it. When we’re done, ya’ll can help me fix some dinner.” Her eyes then land on you. “Well, not you. You can make the lemonade or something.”

Joe coughs awkwardly, poorly hiding his laughter. “I’m getting really sick of ya’ll coming for me and my poor cooking skills.”' 

Your mom directs Callie to grab her caddy with their needed gardening supplies. “Baby, you are a lot of things, but a cook ain’t one of them.” She points at Joe, sharing, “remind me to tell you the story about how she almost burned down my house.”

“Okay, we’re gonna go now.” You grab Joe’s hand and lead him back into the house toward the stairs, which he motions for you to go up first, realizing after the fact that he probably did so to stare at your ass. 

This man….

Entering your former bedroom, you stretch your arm to show you just what you signed up for. He walks in, clearly surprised. “Okay.”

“Yup.” There’s items scattered all over, your mom clearly in the middle of trying to categorize the millions of family photos ya’ll have. “Still don’t mind?”

He shrugs forever unbothered. “There’s two of us. We’ll get it done.”

Sucking your teeth, you look around, trying to figure out where the hell to start. “Your optimism is annoying.”

Chuckling, his smartass remarks, “Glass half full, baby. Glass half full.”

“Yeah, yeah, well glass your ass over there and reach me the ladder. I need the box these pictures can go in from the top.” 

He follows where you’re pointing but also gestures to the closet. “That one?” Joe makes a sound and instead of following your directions, casually walks over to said closet, reaches up and grabs the box with all the ease of someone who’s 6’3. 

Smug expression on his face, he hands it to you as you glare. “Show off.”

Joe assesses you, eyes settling on your chest before redirecting them to your face. “Maybe I should have let you get up there. View and all.”

Holding back your smile is difficult, so you settle for biting on your bottom lip and bumping his side as you move past him. “Shut up.” You know his gaze is on you and that should bother you, his flirty comment should bother you, but it doesn’t.

It doesn’t at all.

—-------

“I still can’t believe you were a cheerleader.” 

There’s probably been a decent combination of conversation and organization in your time working together to ‘unmess’ your mom’s mess. That’s not entirely surprising though. Joe has always been immensely easy to talk to, to be around. And you couldn’t deny that you missed this kind of interaction with him, the most and maybe first since he’s re-entered your life. You wholly understand why he spends and devotes most of his time with Callie, but there’s a small part of you that’s missed this. 

Missed it being just the two of you. 

Chuckling, you comment, “you’re not the first. I was….different in high school and college than I am now.”

He’s intrigued, asking, “how?”

“Well, for one, I don’t party damn near every night anymore.” One thing you could never deny about your early days was that you always liked to have a good time, liked to make your expected appearances at whatever party of the week, or day, was happening. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t drink or smoke. That was never my thing. I just….I liked to have fun, probably too much fun more often than not.” You chuckle to yourself, grabbing a stack of photos to put in the container. “Now, I like to be in bed by 9:30, 10 at the latest.”

He smiles and looks over at the wall that still has many of your cheer accolades proudly displayed. “Obviously, you were pretty damn good.”

Shrugging, you push some of your hair behind your ear. Not that it does much. Your curls have always been voluminous and wild. “I was, but….it came at a cost to some extent. Cheer is insanely competitive, and I didn’t always handle that the best.”

Competitiveness was something you deeply struggled with when you were younger. Feeling like you had to be the best, not even better than anyone else per se, but the best that you could be. Always trying to prove that you were good enough.

Looking back now, you have a solid guess of where that came from and what drove it. 

Joe’s studying you, trying to gauge your comfort level with this conversation. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” you answer, honestly. “Until I didn’t. Shortly before college, I think, is when the love started to fade.”

“But you cheered in college too, didn’t you?”

You nod, explaining, “I got a scholarship for cheer, and I wasn’t about to put that stress on my mom to have her help me figure out how to pay for school when I had an easy ride.” Around that time is when your relationship with your mom started to strengthen, and the last thing you wanted to do was risk messing it back up by being selfish. You’d cheered damn near your whole life, what was another 4 years? 

“I like your mom,” he announces, almost suddenly. It’s unsurprising. Most people do. But, there is something that pleases you about her tentative approval of him and now his of her. 

“She’s really great. I don’t know what I would do without her, and Callie adores her.” You look over at him, playfully. “Not as much as she adores you, though.”

You can see the delight in his eyes. “Yeah?”

His disbelief surprises you. How can he not see how crazy Callie is over him? “Are you kidding me? That lil girl already doesn’t shut up, but she really doesn’t shut up about you. It’s Joe this, Joe that. The first thing she asks me when I pick her up from school is always if she can call you.” Deciding this is a perfect segue, you add on, carefully. “You know….you should tell her. I can promise you, she won’t be upset. She’s gonna be thrilled.”

She already loves you.

You don’t know if it’s too soon to say that, if it’s something you should even say vs let him hear from Callie herself. You just know that there’s probably very little he could do at this point to make Callie not love him. She’s hooked.

“Christmas,” he announces, adding, “I’ll tell her when I come back for Christmas.” 

This surprises you, as he hasn’t discussed his next visit up until this point. You also don’t feel the need to comment or counter his plan and timeline to tell Callie. You can’t think of a better Christmas gift for her. “You got the time off?”

He nods, providing specifics. “I’ll be here the day before Christmas Eve. Gotta fly back out on the 26th though.”

“Stay with us.” Where this comes from, you’re not sure, but there’s not a lot of regret once it's released. “I know you hate that damn hotel, and Callie would be thrilled to have you around 24/7.” Getting up off the floor, you carry the now filled container and move up the ladder you’d used a couple times because he’d been preoccupied organizing other areas. Sliding it back in the same spot, you descend down the steps only to feel strong hands grip your waist. 

Bringing you to the ground, he carefully turns you around, but that’s not what you’re focused on. What you’re focused on is how close he is to you, your chests nearly touching, his eyes burning into you. Instantly, your stomach is knotting. You know that look, know it all too well. 

“Joe….” Your voice is soft, much softer than it needs to be when trying to assert yourself. And you hate yourself for the tiny sigh that leaves your mouth when he brings his palm to your cheek. “We—we can’t—”

“I’m divorced.”

This man, so fine and kind, and damn near pressed against you is distracting, so much so that you’re briefly disconnected from what he’s just said. But, it’s forcing yourself to come back to reality that his words truly hit you. You’re not sure you could have ever guessed that statement would ever leave his mouth. 

Slightly in shock, staring at him with bewilderment, you stammer, “w–what?”

“Two months ago, Jadah and I filed for divorce. It was uncontested, and the state of Florida is one of the quickest when it comes to processing these things.” His other hand moves to your hip, holding you still, as if he knows you want to move away from him. “I got notice it was finalized a few days ago.”

You’re listening, you really are, but hearing is another story. This has to be some type of sick joke, some type of cruel prank ripped directly out the pages of a journal kept and maintained so long ago. Cause you’d absolutely written about this at one point, written about what it would be like if he were to leave his wife. 

You just never could have anticipated it would one day become a reality.

“I—I don’t understand.” Joe only found out about Callie less than a month ago, so there’s no way she was the reason for the split. Still, you have to ask. “Wh–why?”

Something flashes in his eyes. Hurt. “It was long overdue.” He doesn’t say anything beyond that, and while you expected more, you can also see there’s more to the story. More that he’s not saying, but it’s the brief glimpse of pain that prevents you from pushing. Whatever it is, it’s clearly difficult for him to discuss. 

“Oh.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but you’re truly in a state of shock and don’t know what else to say. 

The biggest and only issue that ever existed between yourself and Joe has always been his marriage, the fact that he was already taken. It was the only reason you ever broke it off with him, but now, he’s standing before you, telling you that this is no longer the case.

You’re all of the emotions: confused, nervous, happy, hopeful, and so many more that you can’t even label.

“I didn’t say anything at first, because meeting Callie was my priority. Establishing a relationship with her was a priority. And it still is, but…..” Your eyes shut as he drops his head in the crook of your neck. “I’ve missed you.” Your hands gradually lift to lay against his chest as he sighs into you, ‘I’ve missed everything about you.” Eyes remaining shut, your nails claw gently against him as he moves his mouth over your neck. “The way you smile, the way you laugh.” His hand on your back slowly inches downward. “The way you taste.” Your breath catches as his teeth graze your collarbone. “The way you feel when I’m inside you.”

“Joe,” you breathe, the air suddenly thick, your throat tight. Breathing is incredibly arduous in this moment. “I—”

“Mommy! Joe!”

Joe’s suddenly across the damn room, it seems like, as Callie enters at both the perfect and worst time with a smile, completely oblivious to what she’s just interrupted. “Grandma said come eat!”

Frowning, you glance at the clock and realize it’s most definitely dinner time and that your mom had most likely just had Callie help her prepare the meal instead of asking you two to help.

Huh.

She moves across the room, tackling Joe from the side and craning up her head as she excitedly asks, “Wanna see what I made? Grandma helped me!”

Leaning down to pick her up, he answers, “of course, I wanna see.” He begins to walk out the door as Callie calls out for you to follow behind.

And you will. 

You just need a moment.

Because what the hell just happened?

—-------

I’m divorced.

It keeps playing in your head, on a vicious repeating cycle, like that annoying song the radio plays every 15 minutes, forcing it down your throat.

For almost the entire time you were together, you infrequently allowed yourself to dream about what your life would be like if the circumstances were different, if he wasn’t already taken. If he wasn’t already married. And each time only left you feeling worse than before, because it was stupid. You were three years deep into the situationship; if he hadn’t left his wife by then, he wasn’t leaving her period.

It was a harsh pill that took you forever to swallow.

And even then, you knew that you could never be happy. Not with the knowledge that he’d left his wife for you. It may be bliss initially, but the guilt would have eaten you up and ruined things regardless.

So accepting and telling yourself that it would never work out long-term was what kept your head above water, especially in the two months after you broke things off. And once you learned you were pregnant with Callie, there was a new kind of stress, a new kind of distraction.

Not that it made you forget about him. Hardly.

Every check up, every milestone, every kick, your mind would wander to him. Wander to a fantasy world where you imagined he was with you every step of the way, the two of you preparing together for the arrival of your first child.

Even as the years went on and Callie got older, you still would find yourself from time to time imagining how different things would be if he was around.

Well, now he is. He’s not only around, but he’s going to be actively involved in Callie’s life for the rest of her life.

And he’s now single.

All of this makes for one fucked up emotional rollercoaster ride.

Dinner is an experience, only for you, maybe Joe to some extent. He’s always had a tendency to compartmentalize emotions though, unlike yourself. Granted, if it was a struggle for him, he did a damn good job not showing it. It also probably helped a ton that Callie talked a hole in his and your mom’s head.

You knew your mom could see something was up with you but graciously opted to not ask you any questions. You wouldn’t have any answers to give her anyway. 

And you indicated as much when you were back at your apartment, and Callie in her room gathering her favorite pajamas for bed. 

“I just need time to think.” 

It’s all you can offer him, because it’s the truth. There’s so much more to consider than you could have imagined, and it’s really hard to contemplate when you still have Mariah’s voice oscillating in the back of your mind, your insecurities, and even your mom. 

So many differing perspectives, it’s hard to focus and hear your own.

Thankfully, he accepts that answer, and you accept that you’re running out of different ways to escape confronting your own emotions. 

Maybe.

Because this day has already been exceedingly long, and you’re more emotionally exhausted than anything. So when Callie comes to you complaining of a tummy ache, you administer her Children’s Tylenol, lay with her until she falls asleep, and take advantage of this rare opportunity to turn your brain off and just rest.

The hard shit could wait.

—-------

“Mommy!”

There's a certain tone every person has that's reserved for emergencies, saved for moments when something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

This is one of those moments.

You nearly trip with how quickly you jump out the bed and sprint down the hall to Callie’s room. Hitting the light switch, your stomach drops when you see her.

On her side, in a fetal position, crying profusely. 

Rushing over to her, you see too that she's pale and a hand to her forehead reveals she's burning up. Sheer panic climbs up your body, settling into your stomach and the back of your throat. Still, you do your best to not show her your fear.

“Baby, is it your tummy?” You take a hand to feel her stomach, but she screams out in pain, making you jump from her reaction.

“Mommy, it hurts,” she sobs, and you're instantly moving the blankets off her, already knowing what you need to do. 

Hand on her forehead, you assure, “I’lll be right back, okay?”

You rush back into your room, sliding on the first pair of shoes that you come across. You grab your phone off the nightstand and throw it in your purse, all in under a minute, still too long. And as soon as you're back in her room, you waste no time in lifting her into your arms. 

She winces, so you reassure, “come on, baby. It's okay, you're gonna be okay.”

It's what you're telling yourself, the only thing keeping you from panicking. Unsure and uncaring at this moment if you lock the front door behind you, you carry her down the steps and into the dark of night, carefully but quickly buckling her into her carseat.

Hating to see her continue to cry, to be in pain, you kiss her forehead, “I’m gonna get you some help, okay? We're going to the hospital.”

She can only nod, and your eyes water. Your forever talkative child is rendered speechless by her pain. It crushes you.

Hopping into the driver's seat, you grab your phone, trembling fingers locating the address of the hospital. You hit share and send it to Joe before pressing the call button and tossing your phone into the passenger seat to zoom out of the parking lot.

Your phone is connected to your vehicle, ringing three times before he picks up, voice heavy with sleep. “Hey.”

“I need you to meet me at the hospital. I already sent you the address.” You do your best to remain calm and collected, to not scare Callie more than she's already scared. Even if you’re fucking terrified. “Something is wrong with Calista.”

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #wwe #roman reigns x black!oc #arisnotebook

[weneeya]

the death of me w/ law m.list | rules

note. the one piece brainrot is never over but i'm definitely not writing with them enough so pls take law as a sorry <3

You couldn’t even remember when you joined the pirates of the Heart. It had been so many years ago, you felt like you had been here your whole life. They were the only thing that mattered to you and you would have given everything for them ; maybe too much even. 

If the things had been a bit complicated at first with your captain, Trafalgar D Water Law, you were now ready to give your own life for him and his objective. You were completely devoted, and the word wasn’t maybe even strong enough to describe how you felt towards him. 

There was a fight on this stupid island. Your crew just stopped by to get some groceries as an emergency, but you ended up getting trapped by some Marines who clearly wanted to bring all of you with them. You were a fighter, you had been your whole life. So you didn’t hesitate for a second when you saw them almost jump on Bepo to catch him. 

The fight got farther than expected, but thanks to Law, all of you had the chance to escape before they got any of you. When you finally all found your way back to the submarine, well hidden under the sea, Law thought he had finally some time. The wounds of the crew didn’t seem too bad, so it shouldn’t take too long. 

At least, he thought so ; until he saw you arrived. Or in fact, when he saw Penguin and Bepo bringing you to him, obviously worried about your state. They started to explain to Law what happened, how you jumped in front of Bepo so he wouldn't get hurt, even if he was more resilient than you for this. 

Law asked them to bring you to the bed and laid you down there so he could take care of your wounds. He firmly asked everyone to leave the room, and nobody said anything about the orders. He needed to be fully focused ; and he didn’t want anyone to see a hint of worry on his face. 

It had been hard, and he almost thought it was over a few times ; but you were holding up like no one. After a long time which seemed like hours, he was finally done. He took a chair, sitting down next to your bed. A long sigh left his lips before he closed his eyes, face hidden by his hat. 

You woke up a few days after, and the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Bepo. The huge bear started to cry almost immediately when he saw you awake. He almost took you between his arms, but stopped right before because he didn’t want to reopen your wounds. He quickly called for Law at the door, and soon you were alone with your captain in the infirmary. 

You were sitting on the bed when he sat on a chair a few steps away. Both of you stayed silent, before you slowly cleared your throat. You looked at him, ready to say something, when his own voice resonated in your mind. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he said with a sigh, and you didn’t know what to answer. You looked at him, completely silent, before you finally met his gaze. You had known Law for years now, but you were sure you never saw him this annoyed before.

‘I’m sorry, I…” He didn’t let you finish, cutting you mid sentence. “What were you thinking? You could have died there.” He said, the anger slowly rising inside of him. You felt so guilty, but at the same time, you didn’t regret your choice. You knew your decision was the best. 

“It was me or Bepo, and Bepo can’t die,” you started, and a frown appeared suddenly on his face, understanding what you were trying to say. “Oh, because you can?” He asked, and he hated how he already knew what your answer was going to be. “Yes,” was the only thing you said, still looking at his face. 

He stood up from his chair, tongue clicking against his palate. He came closer to you, grabbing you by your collar, not caring about your state right now. You met his gaze, and the worry you saw in it caught you off guard. You knew your captain cared about his crew, but so much about you? Impossible. 

“You have no right to die, not under my watch. Am I being clear?” He asked, but you knew you could only answer one thing right now. You slowly nodded at his words, and he let go of your top. A sigh left his lips. “Good. Now take some rest. You’re not going out of here until you’re better. Really better, I mean.” 

You could only agree to this. You hated to stay in here, and you were always finding a way to get out of here. But this time, it was different. You knew that Law wasn’t going to be as tolerant as usual. But it warmed your heart in your way. Especially when almost half of the crew rushed into your room to get news about you. 

You were sure it was the first time that you felt people really caring about you, and it felt so good. You ignored the tears forming at the corner of your eyes, and you let your mind focus on reassuring your crewmates.

thank you for reading <3

#trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #one piece law #op law #law x reader #law headcanons #law hcs #trafalgar d law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece hcs #op x reader #op headcanons #op hcs

[mitsua]

Say that you love me

Warnings: mentions of feeling useless, reader gaslighting themselves

Genre: angst ➠ reverse comfort Pairing: Izuku Midoriya × GN! Y/N

Series: —𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮 𝐍𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐚 Words count: 0.9k

Even if anyone told you they loved you wouldn't believe them anyways—but there was something deeper in you that told you that if that person—that if Izuku Midoriya told you he loved you, you would finally be able to rest. Stay in peace.

Just like how you felt anytime you were with him. You felt at ease with him, he was easy to speak with, kind, a good listener and a good talker too.

He showed you that he cared for you. But with that, you could see he cared about everyone as well.

Even if it was one of the traits that you so admired about him, you couldn't help but think you didn't hold an important part on his life as he did on yours.

So you kept pushing those thoughts aside, being kind in return and caring so much for him, maybe a bit more than you should have.

Because you only got in return a smile. Whenever you gifted him something, whenever you finished telling him your advice about his problems—he could only muster as smile.

Which you grew to love at one point, but seeing it after you saw one day how he quickly faked one one time he was ranting to you about his latest difficulty in a public area—with tears welling up in his eyes—and someone stumbled upon you two, you couldn't help but notice he'd do the same gesture to you too many times before.

Making you doubt if he ever flashed you a real smile.

You knew you had no right to judge him for it, because you really couldn't, you even gaslighted yourself into believing that you were fine even if it was a fake smile what he gave you.

But you'd grown tired, and maybe he did as well, so with a heavy heart you decided to confront him about it.

"I'm telling you, I'm fine," Izuku told you giving you a reassuring smile. it only made you cringe thinking just how useless you may seem to him to not even want to tell you what was wrong.

"I can see you're not, and I—maybe I can understand it if you tell me the truth," you answered back, trying to reach for him, the Izuku Midoriya you knew he's being trying to hide so close to his heart so no one could see him under his fake smiles.

"There's nothing else I can tell you, I'm fine." Izuku insisted, backing away from your touch. Which only made you feel more insecure about the possible outcome of all this.

"Was ever any smile you gave me real?" you decided to get straight to the point. Looking him death in the eyes.

Izuku froze at your words. What?

"Wh—What are you talking about? Of co—" "Really?"

"Izuku do you know how much it hurts to see you smiling to everyone and at the end of the day know you cry alone?"

"What are you talking about—"

"Izuku you're putting out of sight so much, you're holding so much and I can see it—I've seen it." You admitted with glassy eyes.

Izuku remained silent. The only movement he made was to turn to look at the ground, fidget a little with his shirt and then close his fists, you could see he was getting nervous and maybe a little anxious.

"Izuku, I'm not telling you this for you to try and hide even more your emotions, I'm telling you this to let you know you can count on me." Even if I can't count on you. Your mind straight up shot to your heart as an intrusive thought.

Thinking back about his kindness towards everyone made you think twice if what you just said could make anything better to you as with every passing day you'd feel a piece of yourself get lost whenever you saw him being gentle towards anyone but himself.

Finally you saw tears fall from the puff of his green hair that you were currently facing. You wanted to hug him, you really wanted, but as his recent actions spoke louder than the sobs that were scaping from him, you stood still, letting some tears of your own fall.

It was such a hard internal battle you were having while watching him crumble in front of your very eyes.

It was so much for your mind to process when he started telling you everything about how he developed this ability to feel better with himself and stay strong as the hero he wants to become.

Still it seemed it wasn't so much for your heart, which beated for him. It, deciding to finally move and embrace him, trying to communicate each and every feeling you had in yourself for him.

You laid all the love, admiration and devotion you had for him. You hugged him tightly as a sign of never wanting to let him go. Unsure if he could feel all that.

He could. Izuku felt secure, peace, at ease just as you felt with him at the beginning. He could finally see colors around him again and he was so glad and even happier to see you with him, spending your time with him. Comforting him, being there for him.

For the first time in god knows how long, he could say he loved someone. And he couldn't be happier for that one to be you.

𝚆𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢: Mitsua © (𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜) ⌇ my navigation!

#mitsua #mitsuawritings #mitsuawrites #anime #bnha #mha #x reader #hcs #headcanons #bnha angst #angst story #angst #fluff #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku x reader #bnha izuku #izuku midoriya #mha izuku #bnha midoriya #mha midoriya #deku imagine #mha deku #bnha deku #deku x reader #deku #my hero acadamy #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #boku no hero

[lenaboskow]

If you truly believe that Tommy hasn't changed, why would Chim and Hen keep hanging out with him (Bobby Begins Again)? Also, there's the fact that Tommy, for the most part, wasn't an instigator. Rather, he tried to keep to himself and not be involved. It's clearly a shitty thing but no uncommon, especially in toxic work environments. Was he dickish? Sure, would Chim think highly of somone openly racist? Based on the latest episode (spoiler: his interaction with Gerrard) he clearly uses the words "good to see you haven't changed" which I think it's intentional to show that Tommy (unlike Gerrard) changed.

You're entitled to your opinion, and you can also hate Tommy for no reason. No one is going to force you. I think saying you just hate him for no reason would be better than trying to build a narrative that the show clearly disputes. Last but not least, Lou giving his headcanons for the character he portrays isn't that uncommon. In fact, many actors do, and it helps them get more into character.

lol i wasn't going to answer this but then i read the "wasn't an instigator" line and i just had to. let's take a look at some of the things tommy said or did in the begins eps...

in chimney begins, he starts by saying "did you forget to tip the delivery driver?" though not explicitly stated, it's implied to be racially motivated because they had ordered chinese food, and chimney is asian. then he proceeds to actively participate in the isolation, once saying "you still here?" to chimney as they return to a call. the most notable time is during the locker room scene where chimney is trying to reach out an olive branch, and tommy actively pushes it away, saying he doesn't think about chimney enough to hate him, but if he did he was sure he would. the only time chimney gets a semblance of an apology is after he saves tommy's life, and that's a messed up way of thinking, no matter how you spin it.

then, we have hen begins. oh boy. gerrard makes comments to hen, and chimney stands up for her, while tommy is standing by letting it happen (this isn't instigating, but it's a notable mention). then, we have "new york bitchiness is a compliment?" which, wow okay. that entire meal he participated in the conversation while chimney tried to drive it away. finally, i know a lot of people think tommy was the one to turn gerrard in, but the way he looked pissed off in hen's speech at the end, and the way he looked like he didn't want to apologize makes me think otherwise.

i don't know what happened off screen for hen and chimney to be friends (or at least civil) with him now, but i do know that recent events have shown tommy is still the same dickish (your words) person he was in the begins episodes, this time without the racist and sexist undertones. some examples include, but are not limited to:

calling buck "kid" and telling him in a condescending tone that eddie was allowed to have more than one friend

the closet comment

leaving buck at the curb the way he did

the bachelor party

the way he acted at the ceremony (looking like he was waiting for buck to stop talking and "enjoy it while it lasts)

so i think it's safe to say i'm not just "building a narrative". the show is proving that tommy is still the same person he was before, he just toned it down.

finally, i'm not even going to touch lou because that story is rapidly developing and i can't keep up.

#911 spoilers #911 #911 on abc #911 abc #anti tommy kinard

[oncillabrigade]

Contingency Plans

I truly believe the worst insult within in the Batfam is being told "I don't have a contingency plan for you." Because there are only two possible interpretations of that statement, right? Your family member is saying that you're either not a big enough threat to plan around (they'll figure it out on the fly) or not important enough to them to be saved from causing damage you'll regret in case of mind control or snapping after one indignity too many or whatever. It's tacitly understood that something like that WILL happen. Every single Bat agrees that it's not paranoia if the universe really is out to get you, and boy is it ever out to get them and their loved ones.

So imagine the way they react when loved ones OUTSIDE of their fucked up little circle say that. It would basically go:

Bat: Hey, you've been updating your contingency plan for me right? Friend: N-no. No, I haven't?! I don't have a contingency plan for you. Bat: Oh. Why not? Friend: What? Because I love you and I trust you! Bat: Okay, so now you wanna back peddle. Nice try. Friend: ...genuinely what the fuck is happening. Bat: Hmmph! *storms off in anger*

Whereas from the Bat's perspective, that conversation went:

Bat: Hey, you care about and respect me enough to stay apprised of my doings and keep both of us safe in the inevitable event something goes wrong, right? Friend: No, I do not?! In fact, I'm shocked you would ask. Bat: What?! Why?! Friend: Um, I changed my mind. Let me re-answer your previous question with a blatant lie meant to soothe your feelings! Bat: Wow, okay, so that's how it is. I don't appreciate being lied to. Friend: ...You know, I think I'll just play dumb about this whole thing. Bat: Hmmph! *storms off in appropriate anger* Like. Do y'all ever think about this?

#batfam #contingency plans #jacey writes #the bats are nuts and their teams are so confused #also within their own dialect they are a highly affectionate family #it's just that no one else knows that dialect and they come off as a bunch of cold loners who can't stand each other #pray for the friends and partners of the batfamily #they need it #batman #red hood #nightwing #red robin #robin

[hisonlykiwi]

falling apart

your relationship with nanami had felt rocky these past few weeks.

wc: 950 (really short but damn did I cry a little writing this)

warnings: none, just nanami being kind of mean.

a/n: please let me know you think in the comments!! <3

-----------------------------------------------------------

You sat on the opposite side of the couch, across from Nanami. He hadn’t said a word to you since he came home late from work, matter of fact, maybe a few days since he last spoke to you. It’s been like this for weeks now, Nanami constantly ignoring you. He has been so angry lately, you tried to not let it get to you but you’ve been dating nearly three years now, something was up. 

You glance over at his direction, he’s reading a book, you know you shouldn’t bother him but the itch of wanting to ask him what’s wrong gets stronger with every passing day. After a few moments, you build up the courage to say “Nanami?” in a gentle voice, careful not to be too loud and startle him.

“What is it?” He signed, putting his book down and looking over in your direction with an annoyed look in his face. You gulped down the lump forming in your throat, “Is everything okay?” You asked, looking over at him. 

Having his eyes on you, finally, it’s felt like weeks since he even bothered to look at you. “Everything is fine.” He replied but there was something off in the way he said it, something betraying the lie that came out of his mouth. 

You looked away, unsure of what to say next, he already seems frustrated at you but you don’t understand why and it’s making you angry that he is acting like this. “Did I do something?” You ask, unable to look in his general direction. It was quiet for a few moments “...No.” His tone became agitated and thick with frustration, “Why does it have to take for something to be wrong for you to ask how I'm doing?" You look over at him with confusion in your features. The confused look on your face seemed to set him off further, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, clearly confused, you always check up on him, make sure he is okay, you don’t know where this frustration is coming from. His voice interrupts your thoughts "I mean, you only ever seem to ask me how I'm doing when there are clear signs of something going on. Why can't you just ask how I'm doing like a normal person? Why wait until everything falls apart?" 

You get up from the couch in disbelief at his tone and his words, the confusion being laced with anger. Seeming to know the answer already, you dare to ask “What exactly has fallen apart, Nanami?” He scoffed and repeated back the words to you in a mimicking tone. 

“This relationship, what else?! Did you think I didn't know why you were so upset this entire evening?” He got up from the couch and walked towards you with a scowl on his face. Tears brimming in your eyes, “This relationship feels like it's falling apart because you hardly ever acknowledge my existence or hardly ever speak to me, I don’t know how to talk to you without getting mad at me. And now you’re throwing your behavior back in my face saying I don’t care about you?” You flail your arms up in disbelief, letting a tear run down your cheek. 

He clenched his jaw tightly, trying even harder to keep his anger in check. However, he failed. “You have to understand. Do you have any clue how draining and stressful my job is? How exhausting it is, not only on my body but on my mental health? I barely have enough willpower to keep going and when I come home, all I want is some time for myself. But instead, you act like a spoiled child begging for attention!” Unsure of what to say, you take a step back, hugging yourself trying to find some comfort with his voice repeating over and over in your head. 

A few tears involuntarily falling down your cheeks. He saw the tears in your eyes and let the scowl on his face soften only a bit. It had become hard for him to hide the pain and exhaustion in his voice. "It just isn't easy for me, you know? After working a long hard day all I want is some peace and quiet. Yet you pester me for my attention as if I don't have enough to deal with as it is. I'm exhausted and I just want to rest...." You look at the floor with an expressionless face, words failing you. 

How long has he felt this way? Has he always felt like this? Why has he been with you so long then if he had thought you were just some nagging woman begging for an ounce of his attention. You look over at him, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “How about I do you one last favor, Nanami?” You took a deep, shaky breath, “We’re done.” 

He looked down at you, expression unchanged. He didn't look surprised one bit. He remained standing there in silence for a few seconds before responding. "Alright. Fine. Leave. I don’t have time for this." You sucked in a breath, trying to not cry more and further humiliate yourself. You didn’t recognize the man standing in front of you, that job of his had changed him so much over the past three years. Nanami turned back to the couch and sat back down. He picked up his book again, resuming where he left off.

It was like you didn't even exist to him at that point. It was hard to see the man you loved turn into an apathetic shell of who he was.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk #jjk nanami #kento nanami #nanami x you

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Finding A New Shoal

Previous =-= Next

Author's note: Kopesh is the brain child of @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, thank you for letting me borrow him :) I hope I got your boy's characterization right. Let me know if I need to tweak them.

Author's note 2: Vanya is the brain child of @sleepyfan-blog, thank you for letting me borrow him :) I hope I got your boy's characterization right.

Summary: Karlsor meets Kopesh and Vanya, and slowly they start to form bonds with each other and form a small shoal.

Warnings: Swearing from Karlsor... Let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Karlsor had been swimming for a while, getting farther and farther away from the very fucking cursed rot reef thing. He's occasionally let out trills and calls to see if anyone would respond. Mostly its just been silence, using his Psyker Senses, carefully, because for some reason he feels so clumsy and slow, and like he's nearly frozen, swimming in thick syrup, and barely able to use his powers, like he's a fresh Aspirant with only the smallest of fumbling understanding of how to use his powers in the most nascent of ways. He lets out a couple of more calls before pausing, and hearing a return call. He tries not to get too excited, as he lets out responding calls and sending a message through his vox. He's glad to meet up with another Space Marine, even better, they are a couple of fellow Night Lord space marines.

"Greetings," Karlsor starts, "I'm Librarian Night Lord Karlsor of the 10th company. Who the fuck are you two?"

"Vanya, Raptor Lord," Vanya replies narrowing his eyes at the Psyker brother's swearing. Perhaps this Psyker brother of theirs has harsher edges than normal. "When are you from?"

"Kopesh, Scout," Kopesh says introducing himself as he begins to figure out ways to mess with both of his newly found older brothers.

"The fuck you mean when?" Karlsor asks Vanya with a squint. "I was in mid-battle fighting against some fucking uppity Ultramarines on McCragge when I woke up in the ocean on this shit hole of a planet. You?"

"Before, during, or after the Horus Heresy?" Vanya asks.

"The fucking what now? You mean the Rebellion against the Emperor?" Karlsor asks to clarify what the fuck he meant by that.

"Ah, you've just arrived then," Kopesh interjects with a shit eating grin, "We are on Ancient Terra."

"Fucking prove it Scout." Karlsor demands, not entirely believing the mischievous look on the other Night Lord's Face.

The Raptor Lord doesn't argue with what the younger Space Marine said, and indeed nods in agreement before having him look up at the night sky, they guide him to one of the ancient Terran big telescopes that were on the land, swimming through the air coming in handy for that as he spots what he needs to and his mind goes blank for a moment as his mouth opens up, asking a question that none know the answer to and are seeking different methods, "How the fuck did we get here?"

"No one knows, and we are all trying to find out one way or another." Vanya replies. "Loyalist, Renegade, Chaos, all factions are effected by... The Warp Nonsense."

"And there's more to it than just getting flung into the past." Kopesh says as he thinks about his pretty human, his smile softening a little at thinking about his lovely human.

"What's that fucking mean?" Karlsor asks.

"Bonds," Vanya replies simply, before going over the basics of a Space Marine and Human Bond.

"That seems like utter grox-shit," The Psyker protests, "As far as I know, the Warp doesn't work that way!"

"It does, at least here and now," Kopesh says, before cackling at the expression on Karlsor's face. "I'm bonded to a pair of humans."

"So am I," Vanya says, his face softening as he thinks about his beloved. The scare he'd had with those damned Alpha Legion fuckers trying to steal his darling human from him and him scowling and clenching his heads. "A warning, as far as we know, the Alpha Legion can't actually bond with humans, and the sneaky bastards try to steal bonded from us."

"Thanks for the warning," the younger two Night Lords reply with a concerned frown.

Alpha Legion Space Marines are Always trouble, and no one exactly knows what the fuck it is that they are doing. Some have wondered if even the Alpha Legion knows what the Alpha Legion is doing, or if they have lost themselves to their web of lies and schemes are just social engineering things for their own sense of twisted amusement, and likely to the detriment of all except themselves.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #warhammer #adeptus astartes #mermay #mermay 2024 #mermay 40k #oc: Karlsor #night lords #night lord #night lords oc #night lord oc #oc: Kopesh #oc: Vanya

[emeraldsummers]

Fic: More Than An Ally?

Fandom: 9-1-1

Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hen Wilson, Chimney Han, Maddie Buckley, Christopher Diaz, Tommy Kinard

Pairing: Buck/Tommy (not the focus, it's more about Buck)

Summary:

Buck keeps referring to himself as an ally, mostly by accident, but also because he's not sure he's ready to say what he really is.

(Or, five times Buck calls himself an ally, and one time he doesn't.)

I.

Buck couldn’t stop grinning.

Eyes scanning out across the room, he took in the sight surrounding him. Maddie and Chim, giggling together like they were teenagers, Christopher looking so damn grown up in his suit, Eddie sitting beside him nearly glowing with pride, Hen and Karen’s new daughter beaming at being able to show off her family, Tommy standing beside the buffet table, fully engrossed in conversation with an old teammate, wearing the hell out of his dress uniform in a way that made Buck feel like the luckiest guy in the room.

He played with the medal hanging around his neck. A medal he had earned for saving lives, for doing the right thing, for being a hero.

Yeah, today was a good day.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hen approaching him, and he turned to greet her.

“Hey! This is great, isn’t it?”

“Hmm? Yeah, this is fun,” she seemed distracted, looking over Buck’s shoulder as she spoke. “I haven’t gotten a chance to try dessert yet, have you?”

“Yeah, the chocolate mousse is…” he trailed off. “Is everything okay?”

She shook her head at that, and when she looked back at Buck she seemed less unsettled. “Sorry, yeah, everything is good.” At the pointed look he gave her, she admitted, “I’m just trying to avoid talking to Captain Gerrard.”

“Ah,” Buck responded. That made sense.

“You meet him?”

“Briefly,” Buck said. “But mostly I’ve heard the stories.” It had only taken five seconds of listening to Gerrard talk for him to realize the stories probably got worse than the ones he had heard.

“It’s not like I’m scared of him,” she hastily clarified. “I can handle him and any guys like him. It’s just… today is a really nice day. And I don’t need to blemish today with whatever garbage comes out of his mouth.”

And Buck understood that. “Makes sense. He doesn’t deserve even a second of your time. Just stick with me, and if he comes near, we’ll make a run for it.” He gave her a small wink, causing her to laugh.

“Thanks, Buck.” And she sounded like she meant it. Seemed like Buck wasn’t the only one getting sentimental today.

“I know things haven't always been this way. I know that under Gerrard your team didn't have your back. I just want you to always know that now, everyone at this station, we’re all allies here,” he said sincerely.

Hen made a face before letting out a short laugh. “Allies, Buck? Really? You?”

And, huh. Buck hadn’t realized he had said, so he quickly corrected, “I meant I’d be your ally. Which I am.”

It sounded like a weak explanation, even to him, but Hen gave him an odd, almost knowing look before saying, “Well, I'll say the same for you. I'm your ally, and everyone else at this station? They're here for you too. They're actually allies, Buck.”

Buck laughed at that, but the emotions of the day were starting to catch up with him and her words were hitting him hard. “I know, Hen. I'm really lucky I was assigned the 118 and I'm lucky it was under Bobby.”

“We both are,” she gave him a nudge before apparently deciding to lift the mood to something lighter. “Anyways,” she said with a grin, “There's definitely one benefit to Gerrard being from the dinosaur’s club.”

At Buck’s quizzical grin, she answered “We’d definitely be able to outrun him.”

II.

The apartment fire ended up being much smaller than originally anticipated, so by the time the 118, the third station to be dispatched, had arrived on the scene, the only job left to do was check the surrounding units to ensure they were still structurally sound. Buck and Chimney were heading up to the fifth floor, enjoying the easy call with casual conversation as they climbed.

“Tommy said he’s got a surprise for our date tonight, but I bet it involves the chopper,” Buck said with a smile. “He’s been hinting at it.”

Chimney gave a quick laugh. “Can’t say I’m jealous. I prefer my dates on the ground. At home.”

“Yeah, well,” Buck said with a sly grin, “The adrenaline is like nothing else, trust me. He took me up a few weeks back, and let me just say…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chimney cut in. “I get it. Don’t need to imagine it.”

“Fine, fine,” Buck sighed. “I’m just saying, I’m excited for this shift to be over.”

After knocking on the last few doors of the fifth floor, the building was clear and it was time to pack up and head back to the station. The lobby of the apartment building was much busier than the stairwell had been, with members of the 273 and 142 packing up their stuff and doing final check-ins with the affected residents.

“You know,” Chim said. “What you mentioned earlier doesn’t surprise me. Tommy always had a thing for flying, even back in the day. He was obsessed with Top Gun.”

Buck laughed at that. When Tommy had found out Buck hadn’t seen it, he’d made sure to watch it for their next movie night, only for them to miss most of it due to getting a bit wound up and therefore distracted. Since it was important to Tommy that Buck actually watched it, they’d tried it again for their next movie night, that time with more success.

“He’s still obsessed, trust me,” Buck replied. Then, with another, louder laugh, “I’m surprised you weren’t able to clock him earlier.” At Chim’s confused expression, Buck continued, “Obsession with Top Gun? That’s like, the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He didn’t realize how loud his voice had grown until the firefighter passing by him stopped dead in his tracks, like he wasn’t sure he heard what he just heard. He was from the 142 and very young, probably still a probie based on the nervous way he was carrying himself. He looked at Buck with his mouth open like he was going to say something, before deciding not to and continuing to walk past, shaking his head.

It took Buck a second before he realized what had just happened. What the probie was probably thinking.

Shit.

“Hey!” Buck called as he followed the probie through the crowd of people. “That came out wrong! I’m not - I’m not homophobic. I’m an ally, okay? Didn’t mean anything by it. I swear!”

The probie was determinedly not turning around to hear Buck out, but Chimney was following him at his side.

“Buck,” he said carefully. Buck knew that tone, knew it meant he was missing something stupidly obvious. He looked at Chimney waiting, but Chim just looked at him incredulously. “You’re dating a man.”

And, oh. Well, duh, Buck thought.

Buck turned back to where the probie had been walking, practically yelling, “Hey! I have a boyfriend! Not homophobic!”

But the probie was gone, slipped completely out of sight, and Buck had no idea if he’d heard him or not. The rest of the 142 definitely did hear him though, based on the way they were glancing at him awkwardly.

Chim patted him on the shoulder with a sigh before walking back to their own truck, leaving Buck to mumble a quick “Just a misunderstanding” before hurrying after him.

III.

Buck was always grateful for dinners with Eddie and Christopher at the Diaz household. Tonight, Eddie was insisting on cooking, much to Christopher’s chagrin, but even though Buck loved cooking for them, he was grateful for the opportunity to sit at the table and hang out with Chris.

Technically, he was supposed to be making sure Chris got his homework done, but Buck preferred to be a bad influence and instead talk about Chris’ day.

“Today, in social studies, we were talking about different kinds of families,” Chris shared.

“Oh yeah? What’s that mean?” Hanging out with Chris, he was always amazed at how different school was now from his own childhood.

“You know, how most people have a mom and a dad. But some people have step-parents. Or guardians. Or two dads. Stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Buck replied. That definitely wasn’t talked about when he was Chris’ age.

“Some people in my class were confused,” Chris continued, “But I already knew that. It’s obvious. Denny has two moms. Harry has a mom and a dad and two step-dads. I have Dad and Carla and you.”

And it was the fact that Chris said that last part so casually, like it was the simplest, most obvious thing in the world that Buck was a part of his family that left Buck speechless.

But Chris continued like he hadn’t just made Buck’s whole year. “Some people in my class had never even heard of people that are L-G-B-T-Q-I-A.” He spelled out the acronym slowly, like he wanted to make sure he said it right.

Buck hummed, trying to think of what to say. He wasn’t sure he was prepared to explain homophobia to a 13-year old, and he wanted to be careful with his words.

But Chris ended up asking something different.

“What does the A stand for?”

Buck let out a relieved sigh. “It uh, it stands for ‘asexual’ or ‘aromantic’. It means someone who doesn’t experience any attraction, or experiences it less than non-ace people.” Buck cringed a bit at himself, fully aware his explanation was lacking, but he wasn’t sure if Chris understood the difference between romantic and sexual attraction yet. “Sometimes, in some contexts, the A stands for ‘ally’”.

“What’s an ally?” Chris asked.

“An ally is someone who… it’s like me and your dad. Someone who isn’t L, G, B, T, or Q, but supports the community and wants to fight for their rights.”

Chris made a face, turning to stare at Buck quizzically. After a beat of silence, Chris finally spoke.

“Buck. You can’t be an ally. You’re with Tommy so you’ve gotta be the G or the B or the Q, right?” And again, he was able to say it like it was the most simple, obvious fact in the world.

Buck let out a nervous laugh that quickly became a genuine one. He had honestly forgotten for a moment, but of course Chris hadn’t.

“You’re right. Your dad’s the ally. I’m… one of those”. Chris didn’t seem to notice him trailing off, and before the conversation could continue, Eddie announced that dinner was served.

“No matter what he made, Chris, make sure you tell him it’s the best dinner ever.”

Christopher groaned, and Buck made his way to the table, eager to enjoy a meal with his family.

IV.

Maddie apologized as she excused herself for Jee-Yun’s night routine, but truthfully this was one of Buck’s favorite parts of visiting his sister after work.

Getting to be there while she went through the peaceful normality of every day routine with her daughter, it filled Buck with such a distinct sense of contentment. He sat in the kitchen, idly playing with his phone, but mostly listening to the domestic sounds around him. The apartment was small enough that he could hear Jee’s shrieks and giggles from the bathtub, hear Maddie negotiating her out of the tub with the promise of her choice of book tonight, and hear Jee trying to start playtime again as Maddie dressed her for bed.

When the apartment finally got quieter, only the low hum of Maddie’s voice audible, Buck quietly stood up and walked closer to Jee’s bedroom. From the hallway near the door, Buck was able to hear Maddie reading the book, a simple story about a princess on her quest to save her kingdom. He closed his eyes, and for a moment he was taken back to his childhood bedroom, to Maddie curled up next to him reading a comedic retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, to her rolling her eyes when he begged her to do the silly voices, to her agreeing just to hear Buck laugh…

Jee-Yun was a lucky girl. She really did have the best mom.

When he could tell the story was winding to a close, he silently made his way back to his spot in the kitchen, not wanting to seem like he was intruding.

A few minutes later, he could hear Maddie making her way back. “Sorry about that,” she said softly. “Bedtime without Daddy always means it takes more time to get her settled.”

“Hey, don’t even worry about it. Wasn’t long at all.” Then after a beat, “When’s Chimney getting home anyways?”

She shrugged. “Probably late. He hasn’t seen Albert in ages, and he hasn’t had a guys night out in even longer.”

He turned to see her carrying a beer in each hand as she made her way over to the table.

“Thanks,” he said as she handed it to him.

She smiled. “I’m never going to complain about getting one-on-one time with my brother.”

Buck laughed before sipping his beer, a thought from earlier coming back to the forefront of his mind.

“Hey, that story you were telling Jee. I noticed it ended with the princess falling in love with another princess…” he trailed off, trying to sound nonchalant, like that detail hadn’t immediately stuck out at him as he was listening.

“You caught that, huh?” She gave him a pensive look before apparently deciding to let it go. “We have books where the princess falls in love with the prince, we have books where the princess falls in love with another princess. We have a book where the princess becomes the prince. We just… we want Jee to know that these are all possibilities for her. That all of these possibilities have happy endings.”

“That’s… nice.” Buck was trying to piece his words together. “It’s like, she won’t have to learn what being gay is, or that it’s okay, she’ll just always know. And if she is queer in some way, it would be way less confusing for her when she figures it out. Huh.”

“Exactly,” Maddie responded, reaching out to take his hands across the table. “Buck, I’m sorry I never gave that to you growing up. I’m sorry if it ever made you feel confused, or if you were ever scared to tell me things growing up. I should have made sure you knew I would have loved you no matter what.”

“What? Maddie -” That wasn’t what he was trying to say. “I always knew you loved me. That’s not it. Any of the confusion, it wasn’t your fault. It was a different time, books like that didn’t even exist.”

“I know, but still -”

“What I was trying to say,” he cut in, “was that it didn’t even occur to me that I should be talking to Jee about stuff like this. What if I've subconsciously been teaching her all of these outdated norms and ideas? As an ally, I should have already been thinking of this!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Maddie released his hands to hold them out in front of her for a moment, before bringing them back down onto the table. “First of all, she’s three. So no, you haven’t permanently instilled homophobia in her by accident.” Buck rolled his eyes at her oversimplification of what he was trying to say. “Secondly, ‘as an ally’? You’re still going with that?”

“I-” Buck hadn’t even realized he had said that, let alone that that would be what Maddie caught from his rambling. “I don’t know, I guess not. It doesn’t matter, does it? You knew what I meant.”

“I mean, it matters a little bit, doesn’t it?” She softened her voice. “If I’m pushing too much, just tell me and I’ll back off. But we haven’t really talked about this.”

And Buck knew that was true. He knew his declarations were about dating Tommy, knew he never really wanted to actually talk about himself, never really let anyone know how much self-discovery he was working on. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Because,” and she lowered her voice almost to a whisper, talking to Buck like she was scared he would bolt. “You’re bi, right? Or pan?”

“I guess,” Buck said with a breath. “Why do I have to call myself anything?”

“You don’t,” she said quickly, “I’m sorry if I pushed. Really, it's none of my business. Especially as a straight person. But calling yourself an ally probably isn’t the move, right?” She gave him the kind of knowing, sly smile that only a sibling could.

And just like that, the mood was already lightened. Buck let out a relieved laugh. “Yeah, it’s uh, becoming something of a bad habit.” He took another sip of his beer. “But thanks, by the way. No one else is going to push me, and I think I might need it.”

“Hey, it’s what allies and sisters are for.”

V.

Buck was antsy as he sat in the back of the firetruck. His shift was scheduled to be over two hours ago, but the drunk driver that caused a ten-car pileup on the highway had made sure he would be late, and Buck was eager to get back to the station so that he could head to Tommy’s.

They were supposed to be attending a comedy show for date night, but Buck had texted a couple hours ago that he was unfortunately going to be very late, and to see if they could get a refund on the tickets. Tommy texted back not to worry, he understood how these things went, and that he’d be waiting at home with a bottle of wine

God, how did Buck ever get so lucky?

Once finally back at the station, Buck didn’t even bother to shower or even change out his uniform, instead grabbing his bag from his locker and practically sprinting to his Jeep, laser-focused on the shower he would have at Tommy’s and the person who would be joining him in it.

He forced himself not to break traffic laws to get himself there faster, and when he finally knocked on Tommy’s door he was nearly breathless with excitement. As he heard the door unlock, he forced his face into a more casual expression as the door opened. That expression was promptly abandoned when he saw Tommy smiling in front of him, and he matched the smile tenfold as Tommy took his hand and welcomed him inside.

Closing the door behind him, Buck took Tommy’s face in his hands and crowded him against the wall, pressing their lips together with a soft hum. “Rushed right over,” he whispered against his mouth.

Tommy broke apart for a moment, hand reaching up to play with the collar of Buck’s uniform. “I can tell,” he said with a sly smile.

For a moment Buck stilled, once again worried he would come across as over-eager, but then Tommy kissed him deeper, his hands dipping to hold his waist tightly, and Buck was again reminded how well Tommy responded to the eagerness.

They broke apart after a moment, and Buck could see Tommy’s eyes travel from his eyes downward, landing on a spot on Buck’s shirt.

“I like the pin,” Tommy said with a small laugh.

Mind still focused on the weight of Tommy’s body against his own, it took Buck a moment to realize what Tommy was referring to.

He was staring at the small Progress Pride Flag pinned to his shirtpocket.

“Oh!” Buck laughed. “The station got these, since it’s Pride month. I know it’s a little hokey, but I wanted to make sure everyone we help knows that they’re safe with us. That they’re safe with me. That I’m an ally.”

“Evan,” Tommy deadpanned, his body stiffening.

Buck blanked for a moment before realizing what he had said. “Shit, yeah. Um, you know what I mean.”

“I mean, I do and I don’t,” Tommy responded. He didn’t sound annoyed, so at least there was that. “I didn’t realize you were still calling yourself an ally.”

Buck pulled away, suddenly feeling exposed. He turned towards the bathroom, hoping a shower would put this conversation on pause until it could be forgotten.

But no, he didn’t really want to run from this. Not with Tommy. He turned back around. “No, I don’t… not really. I know I’m not, I know I’m not straight. I know that. I don’t know why it feels so weird to say what I actually am.”

“It’s still new,” Tommy reasoned.

“Exactly! And I’ve called myself an ally for so long, in my head that’s still where I’m categorized. Even though I know… I know the definitions. I think I know which one fits, it just doesn’t feel like… mine yet.” Tommy was studying him, and suddenly Buck worried this crisis was going to put him off. Tommy had been out for years at this point. He had no problem calling himself gay and seeing himself as part of the community. Buck knew this problem was immature, a sign that he was still so new to all of this, something most people figured out in their teens or twenties.

But instead, Tommy walked closer to him and took his hands. “Whatever label you’re thinking of, it’s yours if you want it. You’re a part of this community, Evan, no one can take that away from you.” He moved one of his hands to Buck’s face, cupping his cheek. “But if the labels feel stifling, you don’t need to pick one. Lots of people don’t use them. It doesn’t matter to me, just as long as you know that this is real.”

And God, somehow Tommy always knew how to reassure him. The spiral that he had been about to send himself on started to unwind, and Buck remembered why he was so excited to get over here. He closed the distance between them, capturing Tommy in a deep kiss, and his anxieties became lost to the moment, because oh, did he know how real this was.

+1

Buck was nervous. He’d only attended Pride once before, back in 2019 when the 118 was selected to participate in the parade, and so his experience was limited to standing in the bed of the truck, wearing his uniform and a rainbow feather boa and waving at the passing crowds. Every other year, he volunteered to work so that the queer staff members could attend the festivities, like an ally should.

This year, however, he was attending for real.

As it turned out, Pride was a lot more than just the parade. There were street fairs, art markets, concerts, movie screenings, and so, so many parties. Tommy would be Buck’s guide through the crazy, and so they were enjoying the afternoon heat by walking through the block party, browsing through the many vendors.

Walking hand-in-hand with Tommy, Buck’s attention was drawn not to the vendors, but to the crowds of people around them. Buck was struck by the sheer number of vibrant personalities surrounding them, a wave of contentment washing over him. Los Angeles was a pretty liberal city, but he realized this was the first time in his life he’d seen this much open queer affection in his entire life. In the daytime, no less. It was so affirming that he almost became overwhelmed, but instead he squeezed Tommy’s hand, basking in the fact that he felt so comfortable doing that.

The next booth they approached caught Buck’s eye. It was a simple booth, stocked only with dozens of rolls of stickers. The person behind the counter, young and welcoming, smiled as they walked up.

“Hey,” they greeted. “Stickers are pay-anything, with the proceeds going towards homeless queer youth.” They gestured at the donation box on the counter.

“Sure, why not?” Tommy said, reaching into his wallet and grabbing two five dollar bills. “Pick which one you like, on me,” he winked.

Buck studied the options in front of him, realizing the booth was offering every queer-adjacent sticker that could ever exist.

There were the identity labels, ranging from ones he was familiar with to ones he would need to Google later. There were pronoun stickers. Flag stickers, many of which he didn’t recognize. Stickers announcing relationship status. Stickers with puns and references to queer media. Stickers that were downright dirty or announcing preferred sex acts. Stickers that Buck was pretty sure related to niche fetishes but was too nervous to ask about. And many more with generic Pride-related sayings and images.

Buck was pretty sure that every single person that walked up to this booth would be able to pick out at least one sticker that applied to them, if not many more.

Buck took his time looking at his options, but truthfully he knew which one had caught his eye. He’d known as soon as he saw what this booth was offering. He considered making a joke and picking the ‘Ally’ sticker, but he knew the joke would only feel funny for a moment before it felt stale and he felt uncomfortable wearing it. He considered picking a random rainbow, not technically a lie but still feeling like a cop-out, before hastily pointing to his choice before he could change his mind.

The volunteer cut the sticker and handed it to Buck, who studied it for a moment before peeling it off and sticking it onto his shirt, on the right side of his chest.

Buck took a deep breath and turned back to Tommy, eyeing the “PROUD AS FUCK” sticker newly adorning his tank top, and saw Tommy’s eyes move to read Buck’s sticker.

“I like it,” Tommy said simply.

Buck glanced down at the sticker, its pink, purple, and blue background with “BISEXUAL” written in white letters. “I like it too. Bisexual.” The word came out without hesitation, without deflecting or even stuttering on it. “Feels like me.”

And Buck took Tommy’s hand, pulled him back to continue walking down the street, and Buck kissed him right there in the crowd under the sun, truly knowing what it meant to feel free.

#911 #911 abc #bucktommy #911 fic #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy fic #tevan #tevan fic #fic #myfic #911 fics #911 fandom

[smytherines]

do you think maybe curt values spying so much because he is intensely aware of how much of a role it played in his and owen's relationship ever actually forming? that curt refuses to let go of it, even when owen's pointing a gun at him, because he doesn't know they're doomed for sure until nothing is as it was.

do you think maybe owen wanting to dismantle those systems is the ultimate symbol for his pain and anger and hatred, like how people avoid the spots their ex's used to take them to?

[I don't think I actually answered your question like... at all... but here's a fuckton of headcanon shit I wrote and never finished]

I think those are both accurate. I think for Curt, spying is the one thing he really feels like he is good at. That for a lot of reasons (but especially the ADHD and being gay) he's never going to feel comfortable or happy having a normal life, and by spying he gets to do something extraordinary. He gets to feel like a real important guy doing important work. He gets to feel valuable when so many people in his life have either said or implied that he has no value.

And that's before he even meets Owen. I think he really adores Owen, and maybe puts him on a pedestal a little bit (but also resents him for it). Owen is better at certain parts of the job- the planning, the stealth, the tactical and technological side of things. He has the things Curt lacks (and vice versa- that part is important). Together they are unstoppable.

Owen impresses Curt, and very few people actually manage to impress him because his RSD makes him maybe a bit too competitive sometimes- if he isn't the best then he must be the worst. So Curt wants to impress Owen too. He wants to not feel insecure in comparison. He sees this guy who is so good at the job and really fucking attractive and it makes him want to be better. To be clear, I'm not saying Owen is actually better, but that Curt's insecurity makes him constantly doubt himself in comparison (relatable).

So once they actually get together, that collaboration + competition element they've had going for however long they were Just Partners (maybe a couple of years) is still kinda there. It's still an element. He already got his sense of self-worth from the job, but now so much of it comes from how Owen sees him in the job.

I think there's also an element of... I dunno, this is some high gender headcanoning and definitely not in the purview of your question, but one thing I think about a lot is skinny autistic nerd Owen who has never done a sport in his goddamn life, thinking of Curt as a super masculine guy? And Curt feeling more masculine around Owen, because growing up people sorta clocked Curt as having some stereotypically feminine traits, which gave him a very fragile sense of his own masculinity. But when he's with someone he's comfortable with, and eventually someone he loves and trusts enough to know his secret, he feels a lot more confident in himself? Even if sometimes it is macho posturing, Owen loves him so maybe he is the right type of guy after all.

Maybe that's why his RSD becomes such a big issue in A1P1, because it feels like everyone is criticizing him at once and it just triggers that crisis for him, and he gets more ridiculous and cocky and becomes more of a daredevil the longer A1P1 goes on- he's trying to prove himself.

Ok enough of me getting distracted, back to the question- he knows that spying is the reason they met, the reason they got together, so its gone from being the thing he's good at to his entire world- when he's on the job he gets to feel good about himself AND he gets to see Owen. The only person who really knows who he is, and doesn't just accept him, but adores him.

I think that's why Curt convinces himself that Owen would want him to go back to the job- because that's where they were together. That's where they met. Their secret was only able to exist in that secret space- in hotels rooms and cars and abandoned buildings on missions. That if Curt can't have Owen anymore, at least he can maybe find comfort in the things they used to do together. He can get some small part of his self-confidence back.

I think for Owen, there is definitely an element of wanting to destroy any reminders of his relationship with Curt. We know so little about Owen canonically, so a lot of questions about his motivations are headcanon territory. So I can only say what I think here.

For me, Owen was accustomed to violence from a young age. We don't have a birthdate for him, but I picture him as *just slightly* too young to have served in WWII. I put him as born in 1928, making him 17 at the end of the war. In any case, if TCB was being sincere when they called London "Owen's hometown," he for sure lived through the Blitz. He saw his city being torn up, bombed, people leaving to fight a war and never coming home. Maybe sheltered in tube stations overnight, depending on his social class. And this would've happened for several formative years. WWII was a much more harrowing event for civilians in the UK than it was for civilians in the US.

So what does that have to do with spying? Well, I think it makes Owen more cautious, maybe more anxious for control over every little thing, he focuses his energy on making sure they avoid scenarios, and trusts Curt- who is good at creative problem solving and quick thinking and brawling- to take care of getting them out of trouble.

But, to me, growing up during WWII also instills in him this hatred of fascism (stick with me, I know that probably seems weird). I think he's less motivated by patriotism than Curt is, and more motivated by really fucking hating the people who made his childhood so difficult, who hurt so many people. And that motivation gets him through his first few years in MI6- he's one of the good guys. He's doing good things and punishing bad people.

But things change a lot in the immediate post-war period. He joined up because his side was the good side. But then the Americans via Operation Paperclip and the British via T-Force recruit hundreds of Nazi scientists for work in their respective countries. And the longer he works for MI6, the less he feels like a good guy saving the world. The more he feels like a hired gun killing without question or reason, doing coups, gradually becoming someone he doesn't like or respect, someone who isn't just good at violence but who genuinely enjoys it. The longer he does it the more he starts to have doubts about his job- except by this point his job is how he gets to see the man he loves, so he can't quit.

One very interesting thing about Spies for me is that any time DMA is onstage with BVN, he very clearly despises him. If you want to make your villain unambiguously terrible, having him genuinely align with Nazis is a good way to do that. But that doesn't happen with DMA. He is always either irritated by BVN, or doing an incredibly over the top appeasement (and making faces every time BVN's back is turned). Of the five people we see DMA/Owen kill post-fall, three of them are Nazis. He hates Nazis. Whatever else broke in him after his fall, I think that sort of instinctual memory of being a kid during the Blitz remains.

To be clear, as much as I wish he was, I don't think Owen is some great anti-fascist, anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist fighter. I think post-fall he is motivated by things he hates (the government that controlled his life and put him in that weapons facility and left him for dead), whereas Curt is motivated by a strong emotional response towards things he loves (his naive idealistic idea of America and patriotism and being The Good Guys).

That being said, I do think a strong part of why Owen specifically wants to destroy spying as an institution is partially to erase the thing that brought Curt into his life, partially to make sure Curt can never return to the thing that almost got Owen killed (except Curt returns just slightly too early and ruins that plan), but also that he just genuinely understands the post-war geopolitical situation. That his country and the US and the Russians are fighting proxy wars against each other, that everyone has their finger hovering over the nuclear button, that technology and surveillance are the way of the future. He can't, or simply doesn't want to, rejoin the side he used to fight for. He doesn't want to be part of nations battling each other for supremacy.

But with Chimera he has the opportunity to operate in the shadows. To destroy the system that destroyed him, and to carve out a place of power for himself. To be king of the ashes. To be so powerful that nothing can ever hurt him like that again. As an MI6 agent he had almost no control over any part of his life, and it almost killed him. With Chimera, he gets to be part of making the rules.

Regardless of whether it's true or not, Owen certainly seems to think that he will be the one in charge of Chimera's surveillance system. So either he knows he isn't going to expose himself as a gay man, or maybe he hasn't been with a man since Curt and truly thinks that he no longer has a secret. I could certainly see him being so injured and detached from his own body that he has stopped having intimate relationships with anyone, so he may think that makes him safe even if he doesn't have absolute control.

#heres a bunch of shit I wrote that did not answer this question #but it exists and im too distracted to finish it #so here have some spy rambles #saf headcanons #spies are forever

[amber-laughs]

Thank you so much for your answer! I'd love to hear your thoughts on their relationship before the series begins. We know that the scene they shared in agot was not reflective of their actual dynamic even if most people loooove to forget that part. How did they interact? Did they ever? How was their relationship especially when Jon was a toddler or around 7-8? Thank you for your time!

oh fun question! well let's start from the beginning, we know that Catelyn was upset to find Jon in Winterfell before her

When the wars were over at last, and Catelyn rode to Winterfell, Jon and his wet nurse had already taken up residence. That cut deep. A Game of Throne- Catelyn II

but keep in mind Catelyn didn't know Ned yet. they'd obviously met and married but she doesn't really know anything about his temperament yet and even with that she's just arrived in a new place that will be her home forever, there's no way out, so the idea of her immediately showing her displeasure with Jon or Ned feels unlikely to me because in Family, Duty, Honor fashion she would first and foremost try to make her new family work to fulfill her father's alliance and be forced to put her wounded honor to the side. we know she did eventually work up the courage to ask Ned about Ashara Dayne

The Lady Ashara Dayne, tall and fair, with haunting violet eyes. It had taken her a fortnight to marshal her courage, but finally, in bed one night, Catelyn had asked her husband the truth of it, asked him to his face. That was the only time in all their years that Ned had ever frightened her. "Never ask me about Jon," he said, cold as ice. A Game of Thrones- Catelyn II

Ned scared her so bad she never asked again and neither did the servants. Now the fandom has a pretty simplistic, whitewashed view of Ned that isn't supported in canon but I would still call this out of character for him and Catelyn does too but remember, she barely knew him at this point, so it makes sense why she completely dropped the topic of not just Ashara but probably Jon as whole for a few years. but of course we know it does come up again.

Now I personally think the real trouble would start to come in as Jon was weened and was still in Winterfell. If he no longer needed a wet-nurse there's no reason not to foster him off in classic bastard fashion and Catelyn clearly thinks so too

Whoever Jon's mother had been, Ned must have loved her fiercely, for nothing Catelyn said would persuade him to send the boy away. It was the one thing she could never forgive him. A Game of Thrones- Catelyn II

Catelyn, of her own admission, was often trying to get Ned to kick Jon out of Winterfell. now this is where I need to remind people that I LOVE Catelyn Tully Stark. I'm on her team, I'm on her side, I'd buy her Mother's Day gifts if I could. most people in this fandom are actually pretty chill about the Catelyn Jon dynamic but there are two sides that think catelyn was an evil abusive wicked witch of the west specifically out to get an infant because she just feels like being evil and another side that thinks she never did anything to him and he's a spoiled brat who should be grateful she didn't make him sleep outside and eat only dog food. both are extremely annoying.

the truth is Catelyn was cruel to Jon and yes by George RR Martin's own words she never laid hands on him and she wasn't directly berating him throughout the years because like I said Catelyn isn't evil and she doesn't enjoy cruelty but when a child says he feels guilty eating in front of you there's a problem.

Jon wondered how Lady Catelyn's sister would feel about feeding Ned Stark's bastard. As a boy, he often felt as if the lady grudged him every bite. A Dance With Dragons- Jon IV

now it's possible Jon is projecting his own insecurities on to Catelyn here except:

Catelyn had nothing against this girl, but suddenly she could not help but think of Ned's bastard on the Wall, and the thought made her angry and guilty, both at once. She struggled to find words for a reply. A Game of Thrones- Catelyn VI

Catelyn does feel guilty for the way she's treated Jon. yes making Jon feel uncomfortable in Winterfell served a purpose, making sure he knows its not his. he has no right to it. Robb does. Robb will inherit. If not Robb then Bran, if not Bran then Rickon and so on and so forth. but none the less it was fucking mean. but here's the thing, Catelyn can't change society, she's navigating the rules she's given and Ned isn't, I imagine that would send her up a wall sometimes. because as she said Ned can have all the bastards he wants and she wouldn't care but Jon has no business being there and no business being treated like a true born next to her actual true born sons

"This is Valyrian steel, my lord," he said wonderingly. His father had let him handle Ice often enough; he knew the look, the feel. A Game of Thrones- Jon VIII

why the hell is Jon being allowed to handle the Stark ancestral sword? this is so widely out of the norm for Westeros it almost feels illegal. I can completely understand why Catelyn started trying to drill into Robb's head that Jon was different from him

That morning he called it first. "I'm Lord of Winterfell!" he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, "You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell." A Storm of Swords- Jon XII

and it's also known throughout the Winterfell that there are hostilities between Jon and Catelyn. when Robb see's Jon is upset he immediately wonders if his mother is the reason

His voice was flat and tired. The visit had taken all the strength from him. Robb knew something was wrong. "My mother …" "She was … very kind," Jon told him. A Game of Thrones- Jon II

Jon also famously has the line where he admits Catelyn has never so much as called him by his name before so on Catelyn's side the relationship is somewhere on a spectrum from non existent to hostile. on Jon's side? well we know that Jon very consciously craved a mother

He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. A Game of Thrones- Jon III

often felt like he had to prove himself to his father

Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father that he could be as good and true a son as Robb. I made a botch of that.  A Storm of Swords- Jon X

and I want to be clear, I know it wasn't Catelyn's job to make Jon feel welcome in his home, Ned really dropped the ball. It's Ned's fault that Jon just assumed he'd be destitute with no prospects by the time he turned 16 and it shows in the way Jon craves father figures in his life after he leaves Winterfell. Jeor Mormont, Benjen Stark, Mance Rayder, Maester Aemon, Stannis Baratheon I mean the list goes on. The thing is though there are no older women in Jon's life. Not at the Wall and not really in Winterfell either. He and Robb don't seem to take lessons from Septa Mordane and while Old Nan certainly taught him some important stories she doesn't seem to have set a maternal presence in his life.

I'm not saying Catelyn was or should have been Jon's mother because she wasn't and it surely wasn't her job but I do think she subconsciously fills that second parental placeholder in his head next to Ned because he clearly craves one but has no other woman to fill it.

Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father's heir. It was not Lord Eddard's face he saw floating before him, though; it was Lady Catelyn's. A Storm of Swords- Jon XII

while this isn't Jon's deciding factor the idea of upsetting her or once again being rejected by her really bothers him, so much so that he can't even go on training with his friends, he has to leave and take a walk all alone. She's also one of the deciding factors when he's deciding whether to take his lifelong vows for the Night's Watch.

By the time the moon was full again, he would be back in Winterfell with his brothers. Your half brothers, a voice inside reminded him. And Lady Stark, who will not welcome you. A Game of Thrones- Jon V

but let's be clear Jon isn't just sitting around waiting for her to hug him. he doesn't like her either.

"Lady Stark is not my mother," Jon reminded him sharply. Tyrion Lannister had been a friend to him. If Lord Eddard was killed, she would be as much to blame as the queen. A Game of Thrones- Jon VII

he blames her for Ned's death just as much as he blames Cersei which is unfair and a bit delusional but childhood resentment will do that to a 15 year old.

So what was Jon and Catelyn's relationship like? Bad. Catelyn and Jon never had a chance. they were failed by the system. women and bastards seem to have a lot in common in Westeros in the sense that their agency is greatly limited. their safety rests on their graces of whatever man has placed their claim on them and this woman and this bastard were vying for the graces of the same man and felt one couldn't have it if the other one did too. which is a shame in and of itself because I think they're both better at this game than Ned was.

***Less about their pre-series relationship but Jon and Catelyn have so much in common thematically and politically speaking. I did a parallel of them if you'd like to check it out

#asks #that one girl who really doesn't play about jon and catelyn #Catelyn Tully #Jon Snow #AsoiafMeta #valyrian scrolls #valyrianscrolls