#and don’t get me wrong i love having her around but. :|

[miley1442111]

(part 7) choices in hindsight- a.donaldson

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

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

summary: eleven years later.

(dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, cheating, loneliness, etc.

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

Eleven years later….

You sat beside the umpire, your opponent smashing her racket in frustration as tears fell down her face. You were tired. Every bone in your body ached, your muscles were tense, your skin felt too tight. 

Your mind was worse. Playing tennis since you were a little girl does that to someone. Being in the public eye does that to someone, being alone does that to someone.

“You fucking bitch!” She shouted. “You fucking bitch!”

You didn’t care about it, the match was done, and you’d won. As usual. 

You hated tennis. You hated your life. Your lonely, empty life. 

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

“How about a challenger? To boost your motivation?” Your manager, Michael, offered. 

“I’ll do whatever,” you shrugged. 

Michael stopped in front of you, stopping you from walking. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m fine,” you plastered on a fake smile. “Just tired.”

“In what sense?” He asked. He’d always been able to see right through you. You rolled your eyes. 

“In the sense that I’m completely alone and I’m sick of knowing that I’m a winner while I feel like a failure!” You exploded. “Tashi and Art got married. Patrick isn’t anywhere near as good as he was. I have no friends. I have no family. I have nothing but a bunch of cold, metal trophies, and a team who don’t care if I want to play anymore. All they care about is my game. And I fucking hate tennis!” 

Michael stared at you, face hardening. “You really had to do that in front of everyone?” He asked. You looked around. Your team was around you, but so was your next opponent.

“I’m not exactly worried,” you snarled. 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Go win the match, then we’ll let you have some alcohol and you can drown your sorrows.”

“Fuck yourself!” you shouted as he walked away. 

“How can I do that when you’re constantly fucking me over anyways!” He shouted back. 

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

Back on the court again. Another subpar player against you. 

HIT. You’re worthless. HIT. You’re awful. HIT. You’re nothing. HIT. You deserve to be lonely. HIT. You deserve to be alone. HIT. You deserve to feel worthless.

HIT. Be better. HIT. Be stronger. HIT. Be more. 

HIT. 

“We have a winner!” 

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

“Come on!” Lily shouted from beside him, her eyes on the court as you won, yet again. She’d seen her mother do it so much she was turning it into a catch-phrase. 

“She’s pretty good, right?” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving you. He didn't want to let himself admit it, but god you looked good. The white tennis outfit you had on was practically making him weak in the knees, as well as the 'I don't give a shit' attitude you carried with you. You were simply leaning in your chair, a drink in hand as your opponent screamed to her manager about how unfair playing against you was.

I mean she wasn't wrong. You were the top female tennis player and you were practically unbeatable. You were incredible.

“She’s amazing!” Lily smiled. “When does she play again?”

“Tomorrow,” he answered. He had your schedule memorised. 

“Can I meet her?” 

Art shook his head. “She and mom have a complicated history.” Also, I’m still madly in love with her.

“How so?” Lily asked as he walked with her, hand in hand to the concessions stand. 

“Well, back in college mom and her didn’t get along because mom couldn’t beat her-” he started but he felt Tashi beside him. 

“You’re lying to Lily now?” She snarked. 

Art felt his skin go cold. “No. It’s true-”

“I beat her,” Tashi nodded. “Dad used to date Y/n as well, isn’t that right?”

Art nodded and Lily looked up at him.

“That’s weird,” she confessed. “Why did you break up?”

“I was in love with mom,” Art lied and kissed Tashi on the cheek, the entire display looking awkward and rehearsed. His regret and resentment grew everyday. He’d never regret having Lily, but he regretted everything he did to you, and letting you get away. 

“That’s gross!” She squealed, shielding her eyes from her parents kissing.

“Alright peanut, what do you want?” He asked, moving up in the line and getting ready to order. 

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

HIT.  Train harder. HIT. Work harder. HIT. You deserve nothing. 

The ball hit into your side and you groaned out in pain. “Fuck!”

You let yourself rest on the ground, not even bothering to turn off the automatic ball-throwing machine. 

“Hi,” a familiar voice smiled at you. Your eyes opened to find Patrick Zweig over your head. 

“Hi,” you mumbled, getting up. 

“How are you?” he asked, following you as you began to hit the balls again. 

“Fine,” you grunted out. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he smirked, watching your figure as you bent to hit a ball. “Very good.”

“Your dad give you a job yet?” 

Patrick’s fantasy was broken. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, not yet.”

“Too bad. You’d make a much better corporate asshole than the piece-of-shit tennis player you are.”

“Tread easy,” he chuckled, a touch of pathetic begging in his plea. You just rolled your eyes and continued on your exercise. 

“How about you go fuck yourself, Patrick?” Tashi scoffed from the stands, Art beside her. 

“How can I go back to that when she fucks me so well?” He joked. HIT. 

“Leave her alone Pat,” Art sighed. HIT. 

“Why are you defending her?” Tashi questioned, turning to Art. HIT. 

“She is right here in case you don’t see her,” Pat defended. HIT. 

“Pat we fucking know-” Art started, but it just ended up in Tashi talking over him to the point that Patrick started talking over both of them in the argument. 

HIT. HIT. HIT. 

“All three of you can fuck off!” you screamed. “I never want to see your stupid face again Patrick, Tashi you can stop flaunting that you got the love of my life, and Art, go be a dad or something! I don’t care anymore!” 

All three of them turned to you with various faces. Patrick was smirking, happy he’d finally pushed your buttons to the extreme. Tashi looked awkward and caught, maybe even guilty. 

But Art. Art looked at you like you’d hung the stars just for him, then tore it all down in front of him. His beautiful blue eyes filling with tears as he finally got to hear you admit that he was the love of your life, only eleven years too late. 

“I’m content with being alone, as shit as it is. I suggest you all move on from me now,” you sighed, grabbing your bag and walking off to find you manager. 

“See you at the challenger!” Patrick called after you. The ATP Challenger Tour. 

The same one from eleven years ago. 

Where everything fell apart. 

You got that familiar sinking feeling in your stomach.

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

[ktgoodmorning]

Birthday tears

Ona x reader

Inspired by it being my own birthday yesterday and also by the fact that I almost always cry on my birthday :/

Masterlist

“Are you sure you don’t have any requests for what you want to do for your birthday?”

You scrunched up your face at the mention of it. Ona had already asked you a few times before but you just kept telling her it didn’t matter, something that didn’t quite seem to satisfy her now that it was the day before your birthday. You just wanted to have a lowkey day with your girlfriend, and not set your hopes too high. Somehow you both ended up with the day off so you planned on getting lunch together and that was more than enough for you. 

The face you had made along with your silence, confirmed exactly what your girlfriend was already thinking. “Why do I get the idea you’re not too excited about it being your birthday?” Ona could tell it seemed to be a somewhat sensitive subject, you instantly deflated a little bit every time she asked and this time was no different. 

“I don’t know,” you gave her a shrug. “I feel like I used to always get so excited for it but then my family would always let me down or something bad would always happen and I just always end up with shitty birthdays. So now I kinda just try to get through the day.” 

It wasn’t a big deal, you were more than used to it at this point. You’d finally come to terms with the fact that your birthday was never quite as fun as everyone hyped it up to be so it was easier to set that expectation from the beginning. Although from the way your girlfriend’s face fell, you could tell she didn’t feel the same way. 

“But baby it’s your birthday! You don’t have to be worried about that because now you’re spending it with me and I’ll make sure that you have a good day.” You let out a sigh, shaking your head slightly that she couldn’t quite understand, made evident by the huge smile plastered on her face.

Ona brought a level of sunshine into your life that you weren’t always used to. Even birthdays that you spent with people you loved always ended up having something go wrong that ruined your day. Somehow, no matter what, no matter how much you enjoyed parts of it, you never failed to cry on your birthday. There was always something. 

You grabbed her hand from where she sat across the table from you, interlocking your fingers and giving her a sympathetic smile. “Oni, I know you’re going to give me a great day, it’s not a personal thing, I just always cry on my birthday. So I just don’t want you to get your hopes up, it just happens.”

Her smile softened as she brought your hand to her lips. “Well baby, I will do my best to give you a good day, but if it doesn’t go as planned, that’s okay. We’ll handle it, we’ll do whatever you need, you just tell me how you’re doing, okay?” Her words were so simple, but somehow it was the most perfect thing she could’ve ever said. There was no pressure for things to be perfect, no pressure for you to love everything, just a promise that she’d do her best for you. 

…

When the next day came, it was clear that Ona was planning on delivering on her promise. Your girlfriend was sure to let you sleep in, holding you in her arms as long as you wanted, being careful not to move too much or do anything to risk waking you up. Everyone knew how much you valued your sleep so this meant more to you than almost anything else could. You cherished the time you got to spend cuddled into her side, safely protected from anything that could ever hurt you. 

You were only awoken by the light streaming through your curtains and Ona’s hand softly tracing over your skin. “Happy birthday, baby,” her voice was just a whisper, still not wanting to wake you up too quickly. You only responded with a groan into her shoulder as you rolled so you were laying directly on top of her, face completely buried in the crook of her neck. 

Her arms tightened around you. “We can stay here as long as you want, just tell me when you get hungry because I have the stuff to make you breakfast.” 

“Ona, you have no idea how much I love you.” 

She let out a breathy chuckle at your words, obviously the way to your heart was just sleep and food. You laid in her arms a little while longer, taking in her presence while you continued to wake up. 

This was the time you valued most. Your favorite thing about having time to sleep in wasn’t actually the sleep itself, it was the time you had to just lay together and not worry about the chaos of your daily lives. Time like this allowed you to just be. To exist with no outside expectations. Together. 

Eventually, when you got tired of just laying there doing nothing, you rolled off your girlfriend and stretched your arms. “Why don’t I make you some breakfast?” Ona leaned over to kiss your cheek with a lazy smile stretched across her face. 

“That sounds perfect, Oni,” you chased her lips to get the kiss you wanted. “I’ll come join you in a minute.” 

The brunette shook her head at you as she got out of bed and threw on an old t-shirt of yours. “No need, I’ll bring it in as soon as I’m done, you just stay comfy.”

The solitude gave you a moment to take in her actions. Ona was so, so good to you, you couldn’t even believe it at times. You weren’t used to the way she pampered you or the way you didn’t have to have your guards up around her. You were used to watching what you said and being somewhat careful that you didn’t set off those around you, but not with Ona. If anything, it was the opposite. She wanted to hear what you had to say, even if it wasn’t perfect, especially if it wasn’t perfect. It was a miracle you ever got lucky enough to call Ona yours, but you’d forever be grateful for it. 

The smell of your breakfast wafting through the apartment was all it took to get you up. You’d considered waiting for her like she said, maybe reading some of your book, but decided you couldn’t be apart from her any longer, especially not when she was being so sweet. So you slowly got out of bed and got dressed before making your way to the kitchen. 

You took a moment to pause in the doorway, just taking in the site in front of you. Ona was standing at the stove wearing only your t-shirt with her hair in her classic messy bun. She had one of your favorite playlists playing softly in the background while she hummed along, dancing slightly as she went. You couldn’t stop yourself from greeting her with a hug from behind, wrapping your arms around her and setting your chin on her shoulder gently. 

“Hola, baby,” she craned her head to press a kiss to your cheek. “I told you, you could have stayed in bed.” 

“Hmmm, I know. I just wanted to see you.”

“Well,” she turned in your arms to face you, pressing her forehead against yours, “I’ll  always be happy to see you.” Your girlfriend started peppering your face in short kisses, leaving them everywhere except where you wanted her most.

“Onniii, just kiss me,” she smiled at your whining but still made no effort to appease you. “Please, it's my birthday.” 

“I suppose since it’s your birthday,” Ona gave you a big smile before moving to give you a real kiss, one that was deeper than you were expecting. You held onto her hips and pulled her in closer, humming into her mouth as one of her hands made its way to the back of your neck. The two of you were lost in each other, completely engulfed in the shared contact, until you were rudely interrupted by the smell of your pancake burning on the stove. 

“Oh my god, Ona, the food!” you immediately pushed her back towards the stove. You started giggling at her panic as she tried to get the food off the heat as fast as she could and minimize the damage. While your girlfriend remade your breakfast, the two of you worked together, dancing around the kitchen, singing to the music she had playing.

Even though it shouldn’t have been, somehow it was still perfect. Nobody besides Ona could have so much fun while remaking your burnt food. This was how everything was with her. It was exactly her way of fulfilling her promise to you. Even though something went wrong, she would still give you her best and somehow make it seem not so bad, almost as if it had been the plan all along.

 

Your day with her after that went perfectly. You spent plenty of time after breakfast cuddling and more than cuddling… 

After which she took you to your favorite restaurant for lunch where she ordered your two favorites, so you could share them both and you wouldn’t have to decide on only one. Even better, she made sure not to tell any of the wait staff that it was your birthday as you both knew you’d die of embarrassment if anyone were to publicly acknowledge it. This way the two of you could just enjoy your birthday in peace together until you saw your friends later in the evening. 

After eating, you stopped by a park on your walk home. It was a beautiful day so the two of you spent some time wandering through the flowers, hand in hand, reminiscing on the past few months of your relationship. You hadn’t been together all that long, less than a year, but it still felt like so much more. Something about your relationship worked perfectly. You just clicked. 

“Want to sit in the sun awhile? We’ve got plenty of time.” 

Ona’s voice broke you from your thoughts. You nodded at her as she led you to the bench nearby, the perfect spot to watch the people going by and take in the beautiful scenery together. “So,” she turned to face you, “do you want your present now or later tonight?” you gave her a skeptical look. “It’s up to you, baby! I know you’ve had some bad birthdays so I just wanted to leave it up to you, whatever you want.” 

If her words didn’t do it, your girlfriend’s precious smile made you absolutely melt. It almost made you tear up at how much she cared for you, how considerate she was. You still weren’t used to it. 

“I would love to open it, Oni, but you know you didn’t have to get me anything, this day has been more than enough.” 

She gave you a short peck on the lips. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” You watched her dig around in her pockets before pulling out a small box. It wasn’t quite small enough to be a ring box, but it was definitely small. Just as she passed it to you, she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Open it, baby!” 

You gave her a shy smile, starting to share the same excitement she had over the box in your hands. You gave her one last look before hesitantly pulling open the top of it, letting out a shaky breath when you saw the contents. In your hands was a dainty gold bracelet with a gold bar in the middle of the chain, with the words “I love you” engraved across it. 

“Ona, this is beautiful.” your voice was breathless, in awe of how thoughtful she was. 

“You deserve it. I know you like jewelry like that and I thought it could be a little reminder in case you ever forget how much I love you.” You weren’t sure it was possible for her to get any sweeter but somehow she always managed to. “And I wasn’t sure if you’d notice, but the words are in my handwriting, so that way you know it’s truly a message from me anytime you look at it, no matter where I am.”

The more she spoke, the more you felt the tears start to pool in your eyes. You truly couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend. You couldn’t even find the words to thank her as much as you wanted to, she was better to you than you knew how to explain. 

“Oh no, baby you’re crying!” You hadn’t noticed the tears running down your cheeks until she pointed it out but for some reason it made you chuckle, shaking your head slightly at the irony.

“Sorry, it’s just funny,” the confusion was clear on your girlfriend’s face, not sure what to do about the weird laughing/crying state you were in. “I told you I always cry on my birthday and here we are, but now it’s happy tears. And I’ve just never had that before.” Ona visibly relaxed upon hearing that you weren’t upset with her.  “I don’t know how you put up with me though, especially when I’m an emotional mess like this.” 

“Well I’m glad that’s the cause of the tears today, but you deserve it baby, you really do. You deserve the absolute world, this dumb little gold bracelet is nothing.” She took the bracelet out of the box and reached for your wrist to clasp it on for you, interlocking your fingers the second she did. Ona made sure she had your full attention before continuing on. “I love you. I love you and not in any unrealistic or nonexistent version of you. I love you for you, and all of your flaws and emotions and everything else. You are so easy to love. And I wish you could see that.”

If you weren’t crying before, you certainly were now. You were basically sobbing at this point but still because you were overcome with joy. Overcome with joy and love. Love for the girl sitting in front of you who was the most perfect girl in the entire world. 

You basically launched yourself into her arms, a blubbering mess over how grateful you were, hardly making any sense. Your words were a mess of “thank you”s and “I love you”s in both English and Spanish. But Ona didn’t care if you didn’t make any sense, she would hold you and love you either way, even if you couldn’t quite understand why.

Masterlist

[knavesflames]

hiii I really really love your writing and i just read your post about insecure reader x arlecchino ! 🫶 i was wondering if you would be willing to write something similar but with a reader insecure about the opposite, being too feminine/curvy like having wide hips, a tummy and big thighs, it's ok if not tho, thank you for reading 💗

Of course!! As a curvy gal myself I can resonate with this HARD. There aren’t super many who write curvy reader (and the ones who do slay, btw) so I am more than happy to write this. I’ve actually been excited for this ever since I received this ask.

Contents: insecure curvy reader, arlecchino being arlecchino, fluff with a hint of sadness sprinkled in

Word count: 1120

Writing utc!

Having dragged Arlecchino along to a lunch with your friends, you’d think you’d be happier than you are right now. Arlecchino is not like your friends in the slightest, them laughing and talking loudly with playful slaps on each other's arm as they melt in hysterical laughter. You suppose that is why Arlecchino zeroes in you and your behaviour now. Arlecchino is usually the quiet one, cracking a small smirk at a joke or huffing in laughter occasionally, you being the bridge between hysterically happy and Arlecchino’s level of calm. And yet, there you sit, poking the small salad leaves with your fork, a miserable expression on your face.

She frowns, glancing over at the plates of your friends. Pasta, focaccia, a burger.. why on earth do you have a salad? One that doesn’t even look good, of all things. Her foot moves to nudge you under the table.

“Eat. There is almost nothing on your plate and you look miserable. Shall I go and order more for you?”

You’re quick to deny her offer, a little too quick for Arlecchino’s liking, if she’s honest. She watches you for the rest of the lunch, watching how you smile and say you’re too stuffed to get dessert. She gives you a pointed look when you say that. She says nothing, but somehow you know that she’s not about to let this go.

You both walk home at a leisurely pace in comfortable silence. Feeling the slightest of breezes against your skin and listening to the afternoon birds chirping relaxes you, and it’s always a pleasure to walk through the town. Arlecchino’s arm snakes around you, resting gently on your hip. A silent gesture, but one she does often, one you usually enjoy.

“Don’t.”

The word pierces through the air as you shrug her arm off, continuing to walk in silence. Her eyes focus on you again, your face holding the same miserable look, like you’re about to burst into tears. Her brow creases and she folds her arms over her chest, her tone almost accusatory. Almost.

“What has gotten into you, love? You do not wish for my touch, you did not eat, you lied to your friends.”

“No—“

“If you say “nothing”, I swear to the Tsaritsa I will sit you down and not let you move until you tell me.”

You both walk the rest of the way home in tense silence, her words simmering. You know she isn’t joking, she would. She has done it once before, and it was the longest hour of your life. Of course, she only means well, but sometimes her ways of showing it can be a little.. tricky. You’re home before long, sliding the keys into the door and shutting it with a small click. You know you have approximately five seconds before—

“Tell me. You have not eaten except about five salad leaves, it is 4pm, your clothes are unusually baggy for your taste. Unless you plan on turning into a rabbit, you will tell me what is going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”

Her stare is unwavering, piercing through you in a way that would make anyone shudder and run away. You are not afraid, you know how soft she really is, at least around you, but you know you can’t put off telling her any longer.

“They are smaller than I am.”

“What? You are slightly taller than them, yes. What is wrong with that?”

“No. Not like that. They’re just.. smaller. Smaller breasts, smaller hips, smaller thighs. I don’t understand why I have to be this way.”

You mutter, gesturing to your body, hidden under the clothes. They are indeed baggy, chosen quickly when you glanced at yourself in the mirror this morning. She is silent for a while, clearly pondering. Arlecchino has a tendency to be blunt, a little too blunt, and it’s obvious she’s trying to soften her words.

“That is true. That does not make you any less beautiful. You are very feminine. I enjoy that.”

You stare at the floor, sniffling a little. It takes her a few seconds to realise you are crying, albeit trying to hide it to the best of your ability. But she is vigilant, she knows. She always knows.

“It is not a bad thing to have the body you have. You are healthy, you just have curves. Many people have surgery to get what you have naturally.”

“They can have it. I don’t want them.”

“Stop. I do not want to hear this nonsense. It is ridiculous. You..”

She walks behind you, pressing her lips to the nape of her neck. You swat her hand away when it brushes your arm, but she tuts and brings it back, gently caressing the skin.

“You are stunning. Your breasts are perfect. They are full and I can hold them in my hands just right. If I must admit, they are good to lay on. They are soft, and they move with your breathing.”

Her hands move, tracing the outline of your breasts through the baggy shirt. She traces a heart before she moves downwards.

“Your hips are beautiful. They are wonderful to hold, both when I come up behind you while you back, and while you are on top of me doing things only we speak about. And, they will be perfect, should we have a child.”

“Your stomach is wonderful. I enjoy massaging it, kissing it, and it may or may not be a weakness of mine when you wear those lovely dresses I know you own.”

Arlecchino’s hands gently knead the skin of your stomach as your tears slowly come to a stop. You can’t help but feel a little better knowing that the person you love finds you just as attractive as you hope she would.

“Your thighs, my god. They are so plush and you know how I love nipping at them, leaving pretty marks only you can see. I love feeling them next to either side of my head, feeling them clench around my head when.. well, you are aware, are you not? Having curves does not make you any more or less of a woman than someone with less curves than you. You are perfect the way you are.”

A small smile graces your face, a smile that always makes her warm inside, though not once will she admit it. She returns a smile of her own. Rare, but genuine.

“I will make you pasta. You will eat it. There is no argument.”

You groan, following her to the kitchen, though you attempt to hold back a giggle when you speak.

“Arlecchino, you.. you lack in the cooking area.”

“Did I ask?”

[kika-writes]

ideas seem better when they’re just ideas - l.n

Warnings: Obsessiveness, manipulation, dark Lando, stalking, 18+,

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Idk what to put :(

The idea of Lando Norris and working with him was enticing as shit. He was hot and he was rich, what’s not to love? As one of his many adoring fans, people would think you’d be overjoyed to have the chance to work with him. Wrong. It started out okay, he struggled to remember your named as you ran around collecting and informing him of events to do.

And then, he fired every single other assistent, til it was just you.

There was a period where you were also worried you’d get fired too, but you didn’t. It was like the hunger games to stay in the job, except the winner was already determined. You felt proud that you’d kept it, but also uneasy. Why has he asked you to stay? He didn’t even know your name. 

But you lived with it, because Lando was nice. He’d let you have holidays when you wanted, but not for longer than a few days. And you liked your job. “Lando, you have a PR meeting in a few minutes,” you said, walking into Lando’s driver room and peering at my notebook. “S-Sir,” you stuttered, looking up at Lando. “What is it?” he asked shortly. “I-I’ve been meaning to ask…” you trailed off slightly, unsure to how to phrase it. 

Then, you realised you were being stupid. Lando let you off early whenever you asked, why was this different? Just provide a reason and he’ll let you go. Simple. “Sir, I have a date in an hour,” I said, watching as he looked up from his phone, “and I was wondering if I could get off an hour early?”. 

“No,”. His voice was calm yet demanding. “No, sir?” you asked, confused. He’d never refused you. “I said, no,” he repeated. “But, I…” he interrupted you. “I said what I sqid, now get me something to eat,” he commanded, making you sigh. “Sir, I’ll do extra work, tomorrow, please?” you asked again. “If I get to not hear your continuous whining, then alright, go. And cancel that meeting, I have…other occupations,” he said shortly. 

You nodded eagerly, and, in an hour’s time, left for your date. He was a nice guy, and you were interested in him as well. “One sec, I need to touch up my make up,” I smiled to the guy as he nodded, letting you leave for the bathroom. As soon as you’d left, Lando sat down in your space. “Uh, can I help you, mate?” your date asked, eyebrow raised in confusion. 

“She’s taken ‘mate’,” sarcasm dripped from Lando’s voice. “I don’t think she is, or she wouldn’t be on this date,” he said defensively. “Oh yeah? Well if you don’t stay away from her, dude,” Lando leaned forward threateningly, “I’ll make sure you never see her, or anyone again,” the Brit smiled sweetly. “I advise you leave,” he added, watching as your date trembled slightly, before slamming a wad of notes onto the table and scrambling away. 

“How’d the date go?” Lando asked, knowing fully well how it went. “Bad. He ditched me halfway through,” I sniffed, wiping your mascara off my cheek. “Oh, darling,” Lando cooed, helping sit down. “He just doesn’t appreciate a pretty girl,” he held you to his chest as you left the tears flow. Little did you know…

“Let me take care of you,” Lando whispered, holding your shaking body. 

[emmyrosee]

Only write this if u want to and with whoever u want.

But y/n has been depresso expresso these past few weeks she can’t get out of bed, she’s not been answering calls or texts and whenever she does she’s declining requests to hang out or come over….and her boyfriend had been missing her. So he just shows up spontaneously and rings the doorbell and she opens the door and she stares at him and then BURSTS into tears. BC GUESS WHAT ur grieving ur broke ur periods here u have assignments due next week that u haven’t even started and ur just so overwhelmed…. But Ofc u didn’t want ur boyfriend to see u like this u look messy right now. BUTTT Ofc ur boyfriend couldn’t care less and takes care of u anyway and brings u outside for fresh air and takes u for some ice cream at the 24 hr convince store nearby even though he doesn’t even like Ice cream that much but u have been craving something sweet and cold so why wouldn’t he 🥹

SO ANYWAY THANKS DOR READING LOVE U SO MUCH HAVE A GREAT NIGHT, EVENING OR DAY ❤️

-Anon🥢

The gentle knocking against your door has your brow raising and your show pausing. You’re not used to having guests at this hour, much less guests at all, and you wrap yourself in a blanket to get up and greet the person at the door.

You check the peephole. Osamu stands outside, playing on his phone.

Your heart sinks at the idea of him seeing you like this, seeing you so drained and so tired, but you can’t ignore him or send him away, either. You shrug the blanket higher on your shoulders and you open the door, trying to ignore the way his face lights up as you open it. “Hey,” you murmur.

“Hey,” he whispers, hands digging around the plastic bag in his hand, pulling out a bag of gummy bears. “I brought gummy bears.”

You don’t know why- Honest!- but your eyes water and your lip wobbles and you absolutely throw yourself into his chest, his arms expertly catching you and cradling you while you absolutely wail. You fist his shirt as your sobs wrack your soul. He doesn’t say anything, merely pressing kisses to your head and rocking you both gently. “I’m sorry,” you heave.

He shushes you softly, “don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

“I missed you so much,” you sob, and he hums in agreement. “Osamu, I’m so tired, I can’t bring myself to do anything, what’s wrong?”

“You’re in your head,” he says quietly, pulling back to wipe a tear that falls from your eye. “And that’s okay. You’ve been working so hard, it’s totally normal to be a bit burnt out, baby. You’ve got a lot going on.” He smiles softly at you, “but this is your sign to be pampered for a little bit, okay? You trust me?”

You sniffle a few more times before nodding, curling back into his chest to feel the tightness of his embrace circle you once again. He says nothing, he does nothing, merely letting you cry it out in his arms, with the occasional kiss to the crown of your head. Once you’ve tuckered yourself out, you pull back to look at him once again, only to laugh at the imprint of your crying face on his shirt. “Sorry,” you manage between sniffly laughter.

“It’s fine,” he snorts. “It’ll dry. Now-“ he nudges his head towards the door, “go lock up, and we can run to 7/11 for some ice cream.”

The mere idea makes your heart sing, but you pout up at him, “you don’t like ice cream though?”

“I’ll get chips. I know you’re going to steal some anyways, so I don’t mind,” he chuckles. For the first time in weeks, you feel yourself perk up, the idea of something sweet and cold tingling your tastebuds in ways you haven’t felt since losing your appetite. You move quicker than you have in days, turning off the tv and locking your door, only for osamu to catch you and wrap you in his big arms. You giggle as he catches under your knees and spins you into a bridal carry, and you wrap your arms around him instinctively.

He places you gingerly in the passenger seat, careful of your head and legs before closing the door and making his way to the drivers side. You smirk and lean over to honk the horn to scare him, cackling as he leaps a foot in the air, his face curling into one of mischief as he shakes his head. He gets in the car, “I’m getting you back for that.”

“Try me,” you tease.

The ride to 7/11 is just as fun, with his hand on your thigh and the windows down while music plays through the speakers. The sun is setting, casting a hue of pink over the horizon and objects on it, and it’s almost amusing how the 7/11 looks ethereal carved in pink.

Four bags of chips, a bag of m’n’m’s and three ice creams later, you check out of the store and make your way back to the car, each of you indulging in your ice creams before they melt into goo.

You sigh and look up at him, “are we going home?”

“Do you want to?”

He looks over at you warmly, laying his tongue flat to slurp up a lap of ice cream. You snicker and shrug, “not… not really. I mean… I haven’t been outside in weeks, and it feels so good.”

“Then we don’t go home,” he says simply, taking a bite of his cone. “I think the moon is full tonight, so we can go watch the sunset finish, look for the moon?”

You beam up at him, “I’d love that.”

He nods, “I thought you might.”

It takes only 5 minutes to find a park suitable to situate at, your fingers now dug into a bag of Doritos as he parks the car and nudges his head, “come on. We can set up in the trunk.”

“Trunk?”

“Yeah,” he encourages, and you merely shrug and follow his example of getting out of the car. He pops the trunk and plops himself down, patting the seat next to him. “I don’t have a blanket we can lay down on, so this will have to do.”

“Why don’t you lay on the dirt and I’ll lay on you?” You ask, and he rolls his eyes while you laugh. “I thought you were chivalrous, Osamu.”

“I’m not getting a tick because you’re too fancy to sit in a trunk,” he teases, and you shake your head playfully before sitting in the trunk next to him. You rest your head on his shoulders, and he reaches in the bag for a dorito, his head laying down to rest on yours.

And it’s quiet. Comfortably quiet, with a warm hand resting on your knee with his thumb rolling over the bone lovingly, a bag of crumpled Doritos tossed somewhere behind you. The sun has set half an hour ago, but you’re both too entranced by the bright moon hanging low in the sky to move. Bugs come to life as they chirp, and streetlights pop on around the park.

It’s bliss.

It’s amazing how much the fresh air has brought you back, how much Osamu brought you back, and you don’t know what you’d do without him.

“‘Samu?”

“Yeah baby?”

“I love you.”

He kisses your head, “I love you too, baby.” Then he sighs, and you feel the arm wrapped lowly around you trail up your side, and your lip twitches. “Now, about the whole honking at me thing-“

“No!” You squeal as five fingers dig into your side, holding you close as you squirm at the tickling, your laughter ringing in the air of night that envelops you both like a hug.

[algae-tm]

KILL BILL P.6

Charles Leclerc x famous singer! reader

Warnings : morally grey reader, toxic exes

Author’s note : There are so many x readers where the reader doesn’t do anything wrong, which I love don’t get me wrong but I wanted to write one where she’s a bit flawed. And obvs I cannot hate her cause she’s just in love and this is lossely (very loosely) based around real life events y’all so I get it! And also I love Alex 😭 I was gunna make her the villain but I literally can’t! So this is going a bit of a diff direction, in terms of ending. - Algae 🌱

•••••

INSTAGRAM

y/bff/n

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 678,798 others

y/bff/n : talking about boys over brunch? (tagged : yourusername)

yourusername : feels like I’m 18 again

— user3 : holdup when did y/n and Charles get together?

— user4 : she was 18 and he was 19/20…

— user5 : lmao that’s why he’s got her wrapped round his finger… poor baby hasn’t known any better

— user7 : not you guys acting like Charles groomed her be so serious! they have a 1 and a half year age gap touch grass.

— user9 : you can’t argue with people like this, they’re so chronically online!

— user4 : so how did they meet?

— user19 : google is free!

— user6 : her and Lewis did a fashion campaign when she was 16, and he sort of took her under his wing, cause I think her parents were a bit... I believe she then met Charles when she came to watch a race and watched the f2 race as well.

user1 : y/n telling you about how she’s a slut?

— y/bff/n : only ever having been with 1 man equals slut?

— user1 : going after a man with a girlfriend surely does.

lewishamilton : we love to see it

— y/bff/n : we sure do 😍

— yourusername : not you guys acting like I was dead in a ditch…

— y/bff/n : you were in man purgatory, it’s basically the same thing.

user11 : does Oscar know y/bff/n?

— user12 : No why?

— user11 : cause bros lurking in the comments

— user1 : lmao you think the skank’s gunna go for him next? (user1 has been blocked)

— user13 : @oscarpiatri trust you do not know how to handle @yourusename

— user11: poor baby she’d eat him alive

user13 : oh to be a fly on the wall for the Charles convo

user14 : trust it was hours long

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 10,987,843 others

yourusername : boys are awful and grotesque. i had to decompress on an island to get the crazy out of my brain. it’s a good thing mics are portable. Thank you Ephraim! My concierge for finding me a keyboard so I could get you guys this song that entered my brain almost two weeks ago and refused to leave. It’s a good teaser for my album, which is out in TWO days. so without further ado hope y’all like The Weekend!! if you don’t like it I’ll cry.

lewishamilton : oh this gives context to the unhinged messages you sent me at 1 am

— yourusername : I’m an artist, it’s my creative process

— lewishamilton : well this is way more constructive than turning up in Monaco

— user5 : oop- not you clocked by Lewis Hamilton of all people

— user7 : well I’m happy that Lewis doesn’t condone the behaviour of a slag

— user8 : lmao even her friends are getting tired of her

— user9 I think y’all are forgetting that they were together for six years, it was y/n’s first relationship, he dumps her out of the blue gets a new girlfriend within months. I for one would also go a bit crazy and need to be secluded on an island! Too bad I don’t have island money lmao

lewishamilton : I’ve been listening non stop! You truly out did yourself kid 🖤

y/bff/n : thank god you are not in Canada rn

y/bff/n : i was having a heart attack!

y/bff/n : you need to tell me before you travel across the world! We cannot have a repeat of last time.

— yourusername : have I really traumatised you that badly?

——y/bff/name : yes

—— lewishamilton : yes

—— yoursiblinguser : yes

—— friend1 : yes

—— danielricciardo: yes

—— oscarpiastri : yes

——yourusername : now hang on @oscarpiatri I don’t even know you!

— — oscarpiastri : wanna change that?

——- user11 : not you going after your dad’s ex

——-user14 : about to be a messy family reunion

——-danielricciardo : check that Aussie charm 🇦🇺

user7 : okay someone please talk about the lyrics????? Right off the bat it’s unhinged?? “WHY YOU WANT ME WHEN YOUVE GOT A GIRL??!” No cause that is so true like @charles_leclerc why are you still contacting her when Alex is right there?? (Liked by yourusername)

— user8 : ‘knowing it’s selfish, knowing I’m desperate’ oh she’s DOWN BAD!!

— user7 : you get it… cause DESPERATE, you’re describing yourself as desperate?? Bad bitch down in aisle 4 I fear!

user9 : lmao no cause you’ve outdone yourself! What do you mean ‘my man is my man, is your man. Heard that’s her man too’

— user21 : no cause she really is not a serious individual 😂

— user10 : the song is a bop don’t get me wrong but am I the only one who’s thinking about Alex in all this??

— user11 : poor girl hasn’t done anything apart from like a serial monogamist…

— user12 : I mean after this release Alex just needs to count her losses and leave him (liked by alexandrasaintmleux)

— user13 : oop- not her liking… clock it! But at this point I think this is just a messy situation where everyone’s gunna lose. Especially Alex poor girl never stood a chance

user22 : I just keep him satisfied through the weekend!

— user23 : you’re like 9 to 5 I’m the weekend!!!!

— user24 : make him lose his mind every weekend!!!!

sza : please god never let me be this down bad over a man 🙏🏾

— yourusername : now I know you’re not the one talking 🤨

badgalriri : 🖤

donatella_versace : DONATELLA VERSACE 💜

user17 : release the album NOW!

user18 : I’m sorry but weren’t we just mad at her? Releasing a song doesn’t make you automatically in the right? In fact even the song paints her as a bit of a villain :( I can’t imagine poor Alex listening to it.

— user19 : right? She’s practically begging him to cheat with her

— user15 : i really don’t know how to feel about the whole situation but it’s definitely not a good feeling…

••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee @callsignwidow

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 7

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Prequel (All Falls Down)

Series Masterlist

“Soo.” Elijah trailed off as he and Kiyana were driving to the restaurant. “That was your ex-husband huh?” 

“Yeah.” She said “I’m so sorry about that..” She apologized again. “He wasn’t supposed to be there.” she paused. “Him or his cousin.”  Elijah laughed. 

“It’s no big deal. Trust me. I’ve dealt with worse from my ex-wife. Her brothers are still on my ass to this day.” He chuckled again. 

“Oh you were married?” Kiyana asked, perplexed because he never mentioned it.

“Is that a problem?” Now Elijah was confused. Not even 10 minutes ago, he thought he was about to have a melee with her ex husband and his cousin. He cut his eyes over to her before looking back at the road when she didn’t answer. “Ki?” 

“No, it’s not a problem.” She shrugged. “I just thought you would mention it by now.” She paused, and turned her head to look at him. “It’s not a big deal though.” 

“You sure?” Elijah asked as he pulled up to a red light, now turning his full attention to her. “I don’t wanna start us off on the wrong foot.” 

“Ohh, there’s an us?” She teased with a smile, feeling her cheeks heat up. 

“There’s definitely an us. I normally have a rule that I don’t date coworkers but, it’s just something about you Kiyana.” There goes them butterflies again. She thought as their faces inched closer. He cupped her jaw and Kiyana felt her heart rate spike. Just as their lips were about to connect, the car behind them honked causing the both of them to jump away from each other. 

“Fuck!” Josh cursed as he watched Kiyana get into Elijah’s car and drive off. This was exactly what he was afraid of. He stomped past Joe and into his former home. “Samara!” He called out, softly though, still mindful of his sleeping children.  “Mara?!” He called out again, rolling his eyes as she strolled out of the kitchen munching on his children’s Doritos. 

“What?” 

“What restaurant did they go to?” He huffed when she shrugged and pushed past him to sit on the couch. “Samara ,please.” Josh begged. “I know I fucked up by doin' what I did. But shit, I can’t just give up and go let her fall in love with someone else. I won’t be able to take it. So please, just tell me what restaurant they went to.” 

Samara felt her hatred for Josh slip away. While they were never close she still considered him a friend and one thing about Samara was that she hated seeing her friends hurting. “Fine.” She sighed out. “But you have to answer my question first.”  Josh nodded immediately. 

“Aight, whatever you wanna know.” 

“Why did you do it? What made you cheat on Kiyana?”  oh Josh gulped.  “Josh?” 

“I don’t know. “ He said and Samara sucked her teeth. “I- we were arguing about her not listening to the doctor about not stressing. I just wanted her and Kairo to be okay.” He walked over and sat down on the couch next to her and put his head in his hands.  “You know the same thing happened when she was pregnant with Kehlani.” Neither one of them heard Joe as she entered the house and stood right by the entrance to the living room, listening to their conversation. “Her auntie died and..” He blew out a breath. “She wouldn’t relax, she wouldn’t just stop and not stress. I already have one dead kid. I didn’t want another.” 

Samara nodded, remembering how Kiyana blamed herself for years for the death of Kehlani. “So that’s why you cheated?” Josh scoffed and shook his head. 

“Hell no. I just- I wanted to vent. Everyone around me kept talking about how Kiyana felt and..” He paused and sniffled, wiping his eyes. “I- it’s selfish but damn, Kenneth was like a dad to me too. When Kish and my mom were going through it Ken and Ms Imani welcomed me with open arms. I just wanted to vent to someone who wouldn’t say oh well it’s Kiyana’s dad. And Shanté was there at the right  time. It wasn’t my intention to start the affair, I just wanted someone to talk to and things went too far.” 

Joe let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He couldn’t intervene with Josh and Kiyana nomore. He had already done enough damage by sleeping with Kiyana and truth be told, Josh was his favorite cousin and even if Joe thought that Kiyana should be with him, he didn’t want to hurt his cousin more than he already did. 

“The Grand Marlin.” Samara said after a minute of silence between her and Josh. “He took her to The Grand Marlin.” 

Josh pulled Samara in for a hug and thanked her. “Do not fuck this up again Joshua. I swear on my life I will make sure she fucks every single one of your family members.” Josh sucked his teeth and pushed her away from him. 

“Damn Samara.” She shrugged and pointed towards the front door.

“Go, before she falls in love with him or something.”  Josh nodded and rushed towards the front door, only to be stopped by Joe blocking it. 

“Uce come-on. Don’t do this to me right now. You proved your point already.”  Joe shook his head and put his hands up defensively. 

“I just wanted to apologize to you Josh. You my family and I should have never took it there with your wife.” Josh sucked his teeth. 

“You don’t mean that shit. What you want me to go get my wife back so you can fuck her again.” Josh felt the urge to pummel Joe so he took a deep breath. “ Getcho’ big ass out my way Joseph.” 

“Josh, this is the most serious I've been with you in years. I’m sorry.” Josh narrowed his eyes at Joe. Not believing him in the slightest. But he couldn’t worry about Joe right now, right now he needed to get to Kiyana. 

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Kiyana smiled over at Elijah as he pulled out her chair for her. “I’ve never been here before.” 

“No problem Ms. Jackson. I plan to give you a lot of first time experiences” He winked back as the waiter came over and asked for their drink orders. 

Elijah kept a smile on Kiyana’s face all throughout dinner. And if Kiyana was being honest, this was the best date she had been on in years. 

Her weekly ‘dates’ with Josh were just them going out to dinner, nothing special or spectacular. He stopped making her feel special a long time ago and she had just gone with the flow because she loved him. 

“Hey that’s your ex-husband right?” Elijah’s voice broke her out of her thoughts and she turned her head in the direction he was pointing to see Josh arguing with the maitre’d and pointing in her direction. 

“Oh my god.” She muttered, covering her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing. Just give me two minutes please.” She said, biting her lip as she stood from the table and walked over to where Josh was making an ass out of himself. 

“All you had to do was let me through dickhead.” He sneered at the man, who was only trying to do his job. 

“Joshua.” Kiyana hissed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and dragging him outside of the restaurant. “What are you doing?!” 

“Tryna stop you from making a mistake. I’m so fucking sorry Key.” He whispered, cupping her face in his hands.  “About everything. About Shanté.” He swallowed hard when he saw her flinch at Shanté’s name. “About not sticking up for you at J’s party. About everything.” He repeated and Kiyana started shaking her head. 

“No.” She laughed as tears started to well up in her eyes. “You can’t just come here and ruin my date. You have no right Joshua.” She pushed him away from her. “You cheated on me, there is no apologizing for that, not after the shit I put up with from you and your family for years.” 

“Kiyana please - “ 

“Go home Joshua.” She muttered, blinking her tears away. She was done crying over him. “I’m trying to move on, you need to do the same.” Josh felt as if Kiyana just reached into his chest and pulled his heart out, as she gave him one last look before turning and walking back into the restaurant to continue her date. Leaving him heartbroken and empty. 

🙃

Y'all think Josh can actually win her back or y'all think Kiyana is over him and nothing her can do will fix or change anything. ?

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

A/N: Sorry this took two weeks 😭. I was just feeling a bit stuck with this chapter. Hopefully chapter 8 won't take another 2 weeks.

🏷️: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @empressdede @harmshake

@theninthwonder @alyyaanna @nbanenefrmdao @badbitchcentralinc @abadbitchblogs

@raya-hunter01 @msbigredmachine @dietothemusic @paigereeder @amandairene88

@woahthatshitfat @tian-monique @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @allmyn1ghts @wrestlingprincess80

@reignsboy19 @cyberdejos2 @saintaquarius @bebesobrielo @scarlettnoir01

@alichesmi @xiamentshoneypot @hunnidmilly @jeyusos-girl @li-da-savage

@qveenmikaelson @black-yn @mzv11 @shantinextdoor @sheydnni

@zillasvilla @thatone-girly @xmonetsworld @jeysbae @kill-the-artiste

@simpin4pixels @mindairy @that-one-anxious-mango @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @vebner37

@trashbin-nie @adoreesun @meggylynnloves @shayaaaaaaa @angiedawn02

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You Take (4)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, voyeurism, longing

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every Breath You take (3)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You wake, once again, from a deep slumber you yawn and look around your bedroom. Last night you had the best dream.

Your dream man stepped out of your dreams and came to you to cuddle you in your bed. His scent still lingers on your clothes, and you sigh, wishing he’d stayed for a little longer.

“Well, he lives only in my dreams,” you press the plushie your secret admirer gifted to you to your heart. No matter what your colleague says, you cherish the cute cat. Whoever sent the flowers and the plushie to you must mean well.

You put the plushie away, putting it on top of your pillow. “Sorry, I got to go to work,” you sigh and pat its head. “I’ll be back soon, and we can cuddle some more.”

While you reluctantly slip out of bed, already regretting it the moment your feet touch the cold floor, Bucky watches you get ready for work.

He hums as you stretch in front of the wind. “We could work out together,” he says. “I think we will start with an easy workout.”

Alpine meows and turns their attention back toward the food in the bowl.

“What do you say, Alpine? Do you want to go shopping for her?” Bucky rubs his scruffy chin. “Maybe we could accidentally bump into her next time she goes grocery shopping.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, it’s too soon. We need to get to know her even better.” He lies to himself. Bucky is scared to mess things up and tries to buy himself some time. “We’ll send her another gift today. I hope she’ll like it.”

“You got another gift from your stalker,” your colleague wrinkles her nose. She huffs because you ignore her jab. “You should call the cops or something. I just know that guy is a creep.”

“Why?” you look at the new gift. Your secret admirer sent an orchid to you this time. A beautiful yellow phalaenopsis. “They sent me an orchid. I love them.” You smile and carefully run your fingertips over one blossom. “I got them in many colors. How could they possibly know I didn’t have a yellow one yet.”

“Stalkers gonna stalk,” she quips while glancing at the orchid. “I’m telling you; they are going to become creepier in no time. Soon they will send you underwear or shit.”

“Underwear,” you gasp. “Oh, my.” You touch your heated cheeks. “You think they’re going to send me underwear? Maybe lace or satin.”

“You’re…crazy,” she huffs and storms off. “If you disappear, I won’t call the cops.”

You shrug. “I don’t know what’s her problem. The orchid is beautiful, and they didn’t do anything wrong. It’s a nice gift, nothing else.”

“Alpine!” Bucky calls for his cat. “She’s back and she got the orchid.” He grins when you step toward the window to place the new beauty on your windowsill. “She likes the orchid.”

Alpine ignores its owner once again. The white furball prefers getting comfortable in Bucky’s lap. “What else could we get for our girl, Alpine? We gave her flowers, a plushie, and an orchid.”

He wrinkles his forehead. “I got it!” Bucky jumps up, much to Alpine’s chagrin. The cat lands on the floor, hissing at their owner. “I’ll gift her my first edition of The Hobbit. She’s got a lot of books, but no first edition.”

Bucky walks toward the shelf he bought some weeks ago. A single book and his sunglasses the only things the only things he placed on the shelf. He grabs the book and smiles.

“I hope she’ll like it as much as I did when I read it for the first time.” He flinches at his own words. A memory wants to flash up in his mind, but he pushes it away.

Most of the time Bucky doesn’t allow himself to think about his life before Hydra.

Even if those memories are pleasant. It pains him to remember his life before the winter soldier, and all the losses he had to endure.

“I need to buy more wrapping paper, Alpine. Make a mental note.”

Bucky carefully puts the book on the small table next to his armchair. He’ll wrap it tomorrow and send it to you. Bucky wants to see you smile again.

“Ladies, we got a new roommate,” you talk to your orchids. “She’s a little shy, so be nice.” You giggle at your silliness. “Yellow queen, welcome to my home.”

You step away to admire your windowsill. “So beautiful. I wonder if he knew that I didn’t have a yellow one yet. He must be very observant. I can’t believe my colleague called him a creep. My secret admirer was nothing but kind to me.”

Smiling you just look at your collection of orchids for a moment. It makes you feel calm and happy just looking at them.

Sometimes, if the world gets too much you get lost in daydreams of flowers and fairytales. You are enchanted by the pretty flowers until you remember you had plans for tonight.

“Shoot! I still need to get changed. My show starts in not half an hour!”

Today, you leave the curtains open. Not only in your living room but in your bedroom too.

You slowly strip your clothes off and put on a show for your secret admirer. He won’t see much because you didn’t switch the light on, but you want him to see you for longer than a few moments.

If he’s not brave enough to talk to you yet, you’ll wait for him to reveal himself.

All you know is that he’s out there, watching over you like a guardian angel.

Part 5

Tags in reblog.

[solarmorrigan]

For the fanfic mash-up prompt list, what about 2. Historical and 73. Stranded due to inclement weather?

Me, a history minor, upon reading this prompt: I've never learned anything about any period in history ever in my life

But! After drawing a blank for a while, we've got some vaguely Great Depression-era Steddie

Fanfiction Trope Mashup: 1. Historical AU + 73. Stranded Due to Inclement Weather

cw: brief assumed infidelity (not actually, though)

-

The drifter is handsome, beneath the smudges of road dust he’s picked up from traveling; his long hair is tied back from his face, revealing a soft mouth, high cheekbones, and eyes you could get lost in. He’s carrying a guitar on his back and not much else. He isn’t dressed nearly warm enough for the weather as it is, and certainly not for the snow that the heavy clouds above are threatening.

Steve already knows he’s going to invite him in.

“I don’t give handouts,” Steve says, mostly for himself, so he can pretend he isn’t a soft touch.

“I’m not asking for a handout,” the drifter says. “I’m more than happy to work for a meal.”

Steve pauses, like he’s thinking. There isn’t much left to the Harrington farm these days; they really only have the house, the barn, and enough land to keep some livestock – mostly chickens. (Robin loves the chickens; when they eat one, she makes sure they thank it by name, which Steve personally thinks is weird, but whatever helps her part more easily with them, he guesses.) The chores don’t take long, usually, but with Robin gone for the week, visiting her mother a few towns over, there are still a few things that need doing.

“Guess I could use a hand,” Steve says, and the drifter smiles at him, bright and dimpled, and Steve can practically hear Robin tutting at him – such a sucker for a pretty face.

At least the imaginary Robin in his head is easier to dismiss.

The drifter—“Eddie,” he introduces himself with a firm, calloused handshake—stores his guitar in the kitchen and gets to work helping Steve around the farm (such as it is). He doesn’t seem to have much familiarity with farmwork specifically, but he’s a hard worker and a good listener, and he slots in right alongside Steve with surprising ease.

He’s a bit of a talker – a storyteller, more like, spinning all kinds of yarns about his travels, half of which Steve is sure can’t be true, but which have him hooked anyway. Eddie seems to like him that way: his attention so focused on Eddie that he almost forgets what he’s doing several times throughout the day.

The hours fly by; the wind gets stronger, and you can almost taste the snow on it. Steve gives the animals one last check, makes sure everything is ready to weather a storm should it come, and then he and Eddie hurry inside the house. Steve cooks while Eddie washes up, and they eat sitting at the kitchen table like Steve and Robin usually do; there’s no one to impress by sitting in the overwrought dining room that had always intimidated Steve as a kid.

Snow is falling thick and fast by the time they finish eating.

“I’m not enough of a bastard to send you back out in that,” Steve says, twitching the curtains aside to look at the way little drifts have already started to collect against the fenceposts. “You’re welcome to stay, if you want.”

“Well, I’m not enough of an idiot to turn you down,” Eddie replies, sending Steve a sly grin. “Anything you want me to do around the house to earn a bed for the night?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he nods towards the living room. “Keep me company by the fire for a while?”

It’s a bit of a gamble – if Steve’s read Eddie wrong, this could end very badly, but Steve doesn’t think he has. He’s always been good at gauging a person’s interest, and he’s certain he’d caught Eddie’s eyes wandering more than once when he thought Steve wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie spends a long moment regarding Steve. “I’ll do you one better,” he finally says, and reaches for his guitar.

Eddie’s voice is rough and low, not always in key, but sincere and achingly soulful. He plays like he was born with a guitar in his hands, pulling music from it a hundred times better than anything Steve’s ever heard on the radio. If he’d been distracted by Eddie before, he’s absolutely enraptured now. He doesn’t even realize he’s been steadily drifting closer to him on the sofa until their knees are brushing.

“It’s getting late,” Eddie says, glancing towards the clock on the mantle. “Am I going to bunk in the barn?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in the house.”

“Sure.” Eddie’s grin is slow-spreading as he watches Steve. “It’s pretty cozy down here by the fireplace. Sofa’s nice.”

“I could make you up a bed on the sofa.” Steve nods. “Or – there’s plenty of room in my bed, upstairs. Much cozier up there.”

Eddie’s grin is positively wolfish now. “You’d have me in your marriage bed?” he teases, and Steve shakes his head.

“My wife and I don’t share a bed,” he says (this is largely true, except when they have unavoidable overnight visitors, or when it’s very cold).

“No?” Eddie asks.

“We have an understanding,” Steve replies.

“Do you, now?” Eddie still looks like he isn’t quite sure whether to laugh or to eat Steve alive, but Steve only nods.

“She doesn’t mind if I have the occasional man around, and in return, I don’t mind if she has the occasional lady,” he explains softly. “And we keep each other safe.”

At that, Eddie’s grin softens, becomes warm, almost fond. “And who’s keeping you safe now? Inviting a complete stranger up into your bed." He shakes his head, still trying to tease. “I could be anybody. I could be a murderer, for all you know.”

“You aren’t,” Steve answers with full conviction.

The sincerity seems to give Eddie pause. “What makes you so sure?” he asks, and now he seems almost serious.

“Your eyes,” Steve says readily. “They’re too kind for you to be any kind of bad person.”

Those eyes go wide with surprise. “Well,” Eddie says slowly, “you’re one of the few people who thinks that.”

“Well, maybe other people need to pay more attention,” Steve says. “But if I’m wrong, and you do kill me, at least the last thing I see will be something beautiful.”

And that seems to do it. Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve, his lips chapped and warm against Steve’s.

“You might be the killer here, actually,” Eddie murmurs when they pull apart. “You’re gonna knock me dead with those lines, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Steve likes that.

“Better come upstairs with me and give me something else to think about, then,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t need to be told again.

The snow continues through the night and into the next day. Steve and Eddie go out first thing to check the animals, to make sure everything is holding against the wind and the snow, and then head back to bed, where they spend the remainder of the day. It seems unkind to send Eddie away in this weather, after all.

In fact, it’s still so cold by the time Robin comes back from her visit that Steve hasn’t yet had the heart to send Eddie away. And if he and Robin talk it over, and if Eddie is still around by the time the warm spring weather comes, and if Eddie just stays and stays, the only thing people in town ever really wonder about is how the Harringtons found the money to hire a hand for their tiny piece of land.

[daisyblog]

Wedding Bells

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN finally say “I do!”,

It was the night before the big day. The day that YN and Harry finally say “I do!”. Wanting to keep the ceremony very intimate, only inviting close family and friends, the couple decide they would get married in a small wedding venue that was tucked away in the countryside of Yorkshire. 

Harry had been whisked away from his soon to be bride, by the men but Louis stayed by his sister’s side for the evening. The two siblings were sat together on the balcony of YN’s room, silence surrounded them as they enjoyed a moment a quiet after a busy day. 

Louis eyed up his sister as she sat in her “bride” robe, her now large bump poking out, her hand that held her engagement ring stroking back and forth where the little Styles grew. “Any nerves Tiny?”. 

She glanced over at Louis, who was still sipping on his bottle of beer from earlier on in the evening. “No…nothing…I’m actually excited”.

“I suppose that’s when you know you’ve found true love!”. He thought out loud, knowing his sister was lucky to find that type of love when she was young. 

“Good thing we didn’t listen to you ey?”. YN tried to break the serious of the conversation, earning a smirk from Louis. 

“I was so annoyed…and now look we’re sat here on the night before your wedding!”. Louis reached over to hold her hand in comfort. 

“You’re the best brother…you know that don’t you?”. YN could feel the tears rise from within her chest, the moment making her emotional. 

“Of fookin’ course!”. Louis sassily pretended to flip his hair over his shoulder. “Now less about me and let’s get you into bed before I have the girls pestering me about you needing your sleep”. 

---

YN couldn’t believe how her evening had gone from calm and quiet, to the next morning being chaotic. Her room was filled with every person possible, her makeup artist and hairstylist were being put to work. Louis had left once he could see the chaos about to start, but not before whispering “it’s all about you today Tiny” in her ear and placing a brotherly kiss on her cheek.

After what felt like hours, YN stood in front her bridal party that included all his sisters and breaking tradition, Louis too. “I’ve never seen such a beautiful bride before!”. Anne was the first to speak, as she wrapped her arm around Louis who was gulping down his tears.

YN wore a flattering white grown, that showed of her bump elegantly as it flowed down her body and left a small trail behind her. Her face was covered in light make up, giving her a natural look to her pregnancy glow. Her hair was placed in a low up do with a slight curl framing her face.

“You look absolutely breathtaking!” Lottie complimented as she dabbed her eye with a tissue, careful not to smudge her own makeup.

“I hope Harry’s got some tissues ready…’cause he’s definitely going to need some!”. Louis caused the whole room to laugh as he all held their tissues ready.

A knock at the door disturbed them as they all looked at Mark who wore a smoke. “It’s time for a wedding!”.

YN couldn’t help but feel giddy knowing that within the next hour she would get to call Harry her husband and she would be Mrs Styles, no longer sharing a last name with her siblings. The thought caused an internal meltdown in her head.

“Tiny? What’s wrong?”. Louis was the last person to leave the room before YN. He hurried to her side.

“I won’t have the same last name as you or the girls anymore”. YN’s concern was real, her bottom lip quivering slightly.

Louis couldn’t get but let out a little chuckle. “YN…your last name may change today…but you’ll always be a Tomlinson in there.” He gestured to her heart.

“How do you always know what to say?”. She asked as she pulled herself together again, not wanting to walk down the aisle with tear marks.

“Stop procrastinating…you have a man waiting to marry you!”. Louis playfully moved YN closer to the door.

---

The sound of ‘Ocean Eyes’ by Billie Eilish sang through the room, as YN and her father stood at the double doors. YN couldn’t help but smile as she watched Daisy walk down the aisle first with Doris and Ernest, both holding her hand as they smiled at everyone the walked passed.

Next, Phoebe walked carefully behind, Olive in her arms wearing a beautiful ivory flower girl dress as she sat in her mother’s arms. The newborn caused the other guests to ‘awe’ at her cuteness.

Lottie and Lucky trailed behind the others, but the little toddler caused some laughter as he tried to run down the aisle.

Louis and Freddie were the last ones to walk down the aisle before YN. The bond they shared really showed as they both wore the same smile and how Freddie gave Harry a fist pump before he found his chair.

“Are you ready darling?”. YN heard her father as he held open his arm for her. His smile matching hers as he got ready to give his first daughter away.

“I think I’ve been ready for the last twelve years”. YN marched his smile as she spoke true words. She looped her arm through his and they both took their first steps down the aisle.

As she takes her steps down the aisle, she couldn’t help but notice all the familiar faces that had come to celebrate her and Harry today. The people she will always be grateful for.

She spotted Sarah, Mitch and the other members of the love band all sat in a row together. But causing her to smile and let out a giggle was Pauli mouthing the words “saucy” to her. These were the group of people who she got to call family for the last few years.

Next, she spotted Harry’s uncle, auntie and cousins, all smiling brightly back at her as they officially welcome her to be a part of their family.

The next three faces that all say together was a pinch me moment for YN. There sat Niall, Liam and Zayn, all of them amused by her jaw dropping expression that she quickly covered up. The three boys that took her on like a sister since she was sixteen, the ones who she caused chaos with on tour, the three people who always showed up for her.

Before setting eyes on her grandparents and siblings, three empty seats reserved for special people caught her eye and it was in that moment that reality hit her, her Mum wouldn’t see her marry the love of her life. But catching Anne’s eye brought her some comfort as she mouthed “I love you” to her as she wiped her tears.

As they reached the bottom of the aisle, she was face to face with Harry who was wiping away his tears at the sight of his bride. “You look so beautiful…you literally took my breath away”. He whispered as Mark placed YN’s hand in his. Louis took his place next to YN whilst Gemma remained by Harry’s side.

“Friends and family, we have come here today at the invitation of Harry and YN to share in the joy of their wedding”.

Harry and YN couldn’t help but get lost in each others eyes as the registrar spoke. They both felt like young teenagers again, as they let out childish smiles and giggles.

---

“The bride and groom have written their own vows and wish to read them…YN..you may begin”. The registrar instructed as he looked between the couple.

“Harry…I could stand here all day and list everything I love about you. But I think everyone in this room has already heard it a million times. From the moment I met you, I knew deep down you were the one. You taught me how to love myself, you showed me love on a different level, you have been there by my side through all the good and bad times and I will always love you for that. Harry you are my best friend, my soulmate and I can’t wait to call you my husband and the father to our children. This is our forever and always”.

YN took a deep breath and smiled up at Harry, as he used his knuckle to wipe his eye before the tear escaped. “I love you”.

“Harry…you may now read your vows”. The man instructed.

“YN…whilst you come across as sassy, strong willed and a bit of a potty mouth, what others don’t always see is your loving, caring and kindhearted side. I’ve been lucky to see that side of you for the last twelve years and I can’t wait to see it for the rest of my life. You’re the most beautiful, strong and determined woman I’ve ever met and I love you for it. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime and as much as I can’t wait to call you my wife, I’m even more excited for us to be Mum and Dad. I love you forever and always!”.

The guests let out a cheer as the couple finished their vows, causing the pair to go giddy with a coy smiles.

“Do you Harry Edward Styles take YN Olivia Tomlinson be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”.

“I do!”. Harry gave a boy-ish smile to his bride, one that showed his dimples as he placed the wedding band on her finger above her engagement ring.

“Do you YN Olivia Tomlinson take Harry Edward Styles be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”.

Without hesitation, a large grin shinning through that caused her eyes to sparkle, YN spoke the words Harry had longed to hear. “I do!”. She carefully pushed the band along his finger.

They both beamed at eachother as they waited for the famous next line.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife…Harry you may now kiss your bride!”.

Having been deprived of each others touch and presence since the night before, Harry wasted no time reaching for her cheek to bring their lips together. YN could feel them both smile against the others lips as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife. Their guests cheered and clapped as they watched on in happiness.

---

The reception area was decorated in fairy lights and Polaroid photos of YN and Harry were hung around the room, dating back from when they first met.

Harry and YN were sat on the top table, with Louis and her grandparents next to YN and Gemma, Anne and Des next to Harry. The newlyweds were in their own bubble as they huddled together, whispering in each others ears and stealing quick kisses.

With the guest all full from their three course meal and itching to get on the dance floor, Gemma rose from her chair as she was given a microphone to speak.

“Hello everyone…I’m Gemma and as the Best Woman I’d like to say a few words”. She glanced at Harry, before speaking again. “Harry…my baby brother who followed me around is married. For everyone who knows my brother, will know how amazing he is…he’s selfless, warm hearted and one of the kindest people you’ll ever meet. When I say I’m proud of you Harry, it doesn’t justify how proud I am…watching you grow from a little boy to a grown man has been an absolute pleasure. I love you baby brother!”. The guests all clapped as Gemma took a breath. “I will be honest…growing up I always believed there would be no one good enough for Harry…but the day I found out that YN had won my brother over, is the day I changed my mind. I’ve never met two people who are meant for each other, and as much as I would like to say welcome to the family YN…I think it’s safe to say you spend more time at my Mum’s than I do”. The joke caused a sea of laughter from the guests but also YN as she did spend a lot of time at Anne’s. “In seriousness…I wish you all the happiness as your family grows and I love you both!”.

Everyone lifts their drinks in a cheers and in agreement of Gemma’s words. Louis takes this as his cue to stand.

“‘Elle everyone…I’m Louis and YN has decided to be different and instead of having a Maid of Honour…she’s got me a Maid of Man…I know it’s exactly what I was thinking!”. Louis made the rook laugh at his attempt of a joke, only causing YN to playfully tap his arm. “For those who know us Tomlinson, you’ll know we’re a large family…I was an only child until YN was born. The day my first baby sister was born, was the day I met my best friend for life…from kids to adults we are inseparable and I wouldn’t have it any other way. YN…you’re a married woman with a baby on the way but you’ll always be my little sister and I love you more than you know”. YN wiped away her tears as Harry gently rubbed his hand along her back in comfort. “Harry…you’re my best friend and when I first learnt that you and YN were a thing…I was skeptical and went into big brother mode…but with some wild old words from Grandad Len here…I saw sense…and over the last twelve years I’ve watched your love for my sister grow…you have cared and supported her and our family though some dark times and I will always be grateful to you…but most importantly you’re the only person who could put up with YN’s pregnancy hormones because I’ve never seen something change so quickly!”. Louis’ sense of humour took a hit with the guest as they all shared a giggle, as Harry nodded in agreement. “But I wish you all the best in your long married life and your future together…YN…Harry…we love you!”.

“To YN and Harry!”.

---

Between her pregnancy bladder and large wedding gown, YN had spent the last twenty minutes with the help from Lottie in the ladies bathroom. But as she exited she was pleasantly surprised to see all the guest mingling.

She stood for a few moments of searching the room, she spotted her husband in the corner chatting away. YN made a bee line for him, not wanting to be away from him a minute longer than she needed to be.

YN slid up to Harry’s side, and naturally his arm draped around her waist as he pulled her closer to him. The couple shared a quick peck as they reunited.

“Well someone fookin’ pinch me but I swear I see One Direction standing in front of me”. YN couldn’t help but tease as the five boys all stood together.

“You never change do you babe? Still our number one fan”. Zayn laughed as his eyes scrunched slightly and his tongue poked through his teeth.

“I’m loyal Zayn…can’t say the same for you lot…eighteen months you said”. The boys knew YN was teasing but it didn’t stop them all from giving each other a side eye. “So is my wedding present a performance?”.

When the boys looked between each other but remained silent, YN broke the silence. “Well it was a try…I’ll have to get this little peanut to nag you when she’s here…you’re not going to say no to your daughter or niece are you?”.

“YN…it’s your wedding day…you’re not surely still going to talk about One Direction?”. Liam laughed as he noticed Harry give him a look of not to say a word.

“Exactly Liam…it’s my wedding day and I want One Direction to perform”. YN said with sass as she flicked her hip out and placed her hand on it.

“God I love you aye….don't ever change!”. Niall only encouraged YN’s behaviour, Harry could only assume it was because their friendship was so strong.

”On that note…I’m going to find Lottie again because this little bubba is sitting on me bladder again”. YN hurried off after placing another peck on Harry’s lips.

“And just think lad….you’ll have a mini YN running around soon!”. Louis playfully tapped Harry on the shoulder, causing the other boys to laugh at Harry’s wide eyes.

---

“Ladies and gentlemen…please welcome Mr and Mrs Styles to the dance floor for their first dance!”.

The newlyweds walked hand in hand to the dance floor, smiles beaming at eachother as wrapped his arms around her waist and YN’s reached up to wrapped around his neck.

When she gets that come-get-me look in her eyes

Well, it kinda scares me

The way that she drives me wild

And she drives me wild

They gently danced across the floor, both too busy wrapped up in each other to notice their family and friends watching on in awe, some videoing the special moment whilst others stood their and lived in the moment.

Beautiful, crazy

She can't help but amaze me

The way that she dances

Ain't afraid to take chances

And wears her heart on her sleeve

Yeah, she's crazy

But her crazy's beautiful to me

As Harry had his head resting near YN’s ear, he sang the words to her causing a shy smile to land her lips. After waiting twelve years, they were finally a married couple with their baby girl on the way and life couldn’t be better.

“I love you Mr Styles!”.

“I love you Mrs Styles!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Heya! Might I request something with a touch-starved Adam? That man definitely yearns for some genuine affection underneath all the “og dick” persona!! Thank you!

Touch-Starved Adam

Adam x GN! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, Fluffy

Request box: Open

Word Count: 1014

A/n: Thanks for the request! I’m so sorry for such an embarrassingly long time it took, I hope you enjoy! Sorry!!!

This man is 100% the most touched starved Angel in heaven. and he doesn’t even know it.

He knows he feels a constant absence when around people, especially when he’s alone. Genuine affection is just not something he has a lot of. Any winner who meets him sees him as an idol (How could they fucking not -Adam probably), any sexual partners only want just that, sex. Which, don’t get him wrong he LOVES sex but it’s just not the same.

The closest he gets to genuine casual affection is Lute who is, to be completely honest, ALSO touch starved so she rarely initiates any contact herself. But Adam loves any form of casual physical contact from her, fist bumps, putting their hands on each other's shoulder, whenever they shush each other. Adam may pretend to hate it but that little bit of contact has been keeping this man going for these countless years.

This is where you come in. You were a recent human soul to ascend to heaven. You had tried to do your best on earth and this was your reward for good deeds. You was a little shocked, not expecting you’d have been the best during life, but hey! You’re here now so, Yay!

Your excitement lasted a total of 5 minutes before you were crushed under the heels of near 20+ winners screaming something about “it’s him!”, only stopping once your halo was thoroughly crushed.

You picked yourself off the ground and dusted yourself off. You move your neck and pain shot through,

‘Yep, that’s gonna bruise’ you thought before turning your attention back to the crazed fangirl stampede in front of you. Over all the screaming and ogling, you heard a particular name that caught your attention, Adam. You walk over to the crowd, moving past the people. On the other side you see a tall man in white robes and a LED mask. He greeted the fans, took pictures, even signing some people’s… parts that you had rather not have seen. Eventually the crowd dispersed after getting what they wanted from him and leaving you alone with the tall Angel.

You weren’t really sure what you were even doing standing in the crowd in the first place but you were enamored by the man.

“Hey! What are you fuckin’ staring off to space for” the man, Adam you presume, yelled, now right in front of you. “What do you want? Photo? Autograph? Where do you want me to sign?”

You looked sheepishly at him before answering “oh sorry I’m- I’m not with them. I actually have no idea who you are… sorry”

Adam blinked confused before a wicked smile “oh I see well, behold your fuxking eyes, cause I’m the Adam!” He pauses for dramatic effect waiting for the excited reaction he often got only to be met with a confusing silence.

“Who?”

He scoffs “who?! You know, Adam, The original dick? The one that banged a chick a couple times and populated the beginning of humanity. Adam, ring any bells??”

“Sorry I’m not big on politics-“

Adam looked at you with both frustration and intrigue. It’s incredibly rare to meet a soul in heaven to not know who he is, let alone just not know him at all. This caught his attention though. He put his hand on your shoulder and asked to show you around to which you hesitantly agreed to.

The fact you didn’t know about his status as the first man really intrigued him. Which led to him asking you out (albeit with a lot of swearing and dodging the main question he wanted to ask) but ever since you caught on to it, you accepted his offer and you’ve both been together ever since.

Adam always initiated contact with you as much as he could. The feeling of closeness it brought made him much more happy than he would want to admit. But what really makes him happy is when you suddenly touch him without warning.

Considering he has gone most of his life without affectionate touches, his body has grown to be quite sensitive and ticklish, which he hates to admit. But it was the truth. He especially gets embarrassed when you accidentally touch his arm and he jumps, but ends up missing that slightest touch once it’s gone.

Once you found this out you made sure to give him plenty of physical contact. Regular hugs, holding hands, and eventually when he was comfortable enough, you would hold his face when he took his mask off.

That last one was the one that made him feel the most happy. Cause it solidifies your love for him. You both get look at AND get to touch the least observed part of his body than any other has.

Sometimes, after a long day of heavenly duties, all Adam wants is to go home and have you hold him, mask off. Just let you caress his face, give him a light massage as he tells you about his shitty day.

-

Your hands gently squeezed the flesh of his biceps, putting just enough pressure to make the aching muscles go numb with relief. The unmasked man’s face rest against your chest, getting comfortable by the second, his voice revealing the tension now leaving his body.

You continue putting your firm touch to a particular spot on Adam’s shoulder, feeling the knot slowly go away with each kneed of your fingers. Before moving down to the area between where his wings connect to his back.

“Fuxk- right there!”

You smile, putting pressure and massaging the area between his wings. The noises Adam was making could make someone assume some.. unholy things were being conducted. But it didn’t matter what others think.

Once you finished the massage you gave Adam a tap on the shoulder and he scooted up to the headboard , picking you up in his arms, cornering you both in his now tension-free wings like a blanket. You give him a kiss on the cheek before falling asleep in each others arms.

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024, #29 hero

Chapters 1 to 5 here on AO3

If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!

+++++

White Pony Tattoo - Part Nine (hero)

John turned around to head for the next bus stop, not knowing if he would even be able to get there. Taking a step and moving away from the tattoo shop seemed impossible. The weight of the world was crushing down on his shoulders and the outlook of not seeing Sherlock for at least a week cut deep into his chest and right into his heart.

The connection I’ve felt, being with Sherlock. Now that it’s gone, I almost feel sick.

John rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily.

Dear God, I think I’ve fallen for him. Fuck. Not just his looks, which are top notch of course, no, it’s the whole package of his personality. Even if he is a real dick at times. I can’t help it.

And yet, I’m wondering.

Did he feel it, too? He practically glowed down there in the lab, speaking to me, showing off his equipment. My appreciation of what he has achieved made him incandescent.

But does he like me back? As a person, as John Watson, the whole package I come with? Or was he just happy to have an audience that applauded his every move? To be forgotten as soon as I’m gone and out of his sight?

The gloomy thoughts clogged John’s brain and rendered him unable to walk away, condemning him to oscillate on the pavement in front of the shop.

“Oh, hello dear. You must be John?”

John was so preoccupied by his musings that he jumped badly when a woman’s voice suddenly adressed him.

“Erm, yes?”

Looking into the direction the voice had come from, John registered a frail but distinguished looking old lady. She had just sat down two heavy looking bags with groceries and held a bunch of keys in her hand. A large golden number dangled from the main key ring.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But you looked so forlorn and sad. Sherlock has not rejected you again, or has he?”

“Ah, no, he’ll tattoo me,” John quickly connected the puzzle pieces, “and you must be Sherlock’s landlady.”

“Tch, I forgot to introduce myself properly.” She chuckled and offered her hand. “I’m Martha Hudson. Most of the time I’m more like Sherlock’s housekeeper since he cannot be arsed to do the simplest household chores himself.”

Shaking her hand firmly, John laughed. “That sounds very much like him. Always thinking about ink, is he?”

“Yes, yes. He calls it the INK, written all in capital letters. It’s his greatest passion, he cares for little else.” She unlocked the front door.

This offhand comment struck a chord in John, one whose sound he did not really want to hear again. Doubt. Doubt if Sherlock really cared about him apart from putting INK on his skin. He shook himself mentally, trying to get rid of the anxiety that crept upon him like a feral beast.

“Pleased to meet you. Let me just praise the scones you’ve made. They’ve been the best I ever had.”

Mrs Hudson made a delighted sound. “What a charmer you are!”

“Just telling the truth.” John pointed to the grocery bags. “Can I help you with these?”

“Oh, please, if you don’t mind, dear. When the weather is like this, my bad hip is always acting up.”

John carried the bags into 221A, Mrs Hudson’s flat on the ground floor. He put them onto her kitchen table and was about to leave when she invited him on a cup of tea as a thank you for his help. Like every proper Englishman, John could not refuse.

“Did you know that Sherlock explicitly requested tea and scones for you today?” Mrs Hudson said when she handed John the cup with steaming hot tea, watching his face quizzically.

“No?” The undeniable sly look on her otherwise so friendly and open face caught John a bit on the wrong foot. “I thought it was the usual hospitality he shows to his clients.”

Mrs Hudson outright laughed.

“My dear, he never cares about hospitality. The clients come to him anyway, no matter how rude he behaves. Can you imagine my surprise when he asked me to provide tea and scones for your appointment today?”

She refilled John’s tea cup. “He said I need tea and the best scones you can bake when John comes back. Sherlock even added a please in an afterthought.”

“He was sure I’d come back and acept his offer. He just knew.” John shrugged. “He knew me better than I know myself.”

“Not the point, dear. Sherlock wanted to have tea and scones for you. He wanted to impress you and be nice. You must mean something to him if he goes to such lenghts, don’t you think?” Mrs Hudson winked and grinned.

John wondered if she had adopted this mannerism from Sherlock or if it had been the other way around.

“I don’t know. I’d like to think so.” John decided to be honest with Mrs Hudson. Somehow, he was convinced he could trust her. He added wistfully. “I really wish I would be more to him than just the next canvas to put his INK onto.”

“He’s had a hard time in the past,” Mrs Hudson said, “he doesn’t let people get close to him easily or quickly lowers the protective shield he’s put around his heart.”

“Really?” John wondered. “He seemed pretty open and relaxed when he showed me all the stuff in his ink laboratory in the basement.”

“He what?” Mrs Hudson cried out and jumped up. The hip was not bothering her now, apparently.

“John! He never lets people in there. It’s his sanctum sanctorum. It took four months and constant nagging on my behalf until he let me take a look and I own this house. If he shows it to you just like this, you have to be very special to him already!”

Blissful warmth spread through John’s body. His nerves tingled and his blood sang a dulcet melody full of hope. Could it be that…

John beamed. “Thank you so much for telling me, Mrs Hudson. That he cares about me.”

Suddenly, Mrs Hudson’s posture changed.

She fixated John with ice cold eyes, pinning him on the chair. Steel had replaced every trace of her earlier softness and age-related frailty. She stepped up to John.

“Just to give a you heads-up, you’re not the only person who cares about Sherlock.” Her voice was sharp, quiet and deadly serious. “Or protects him.”

It sent chills running down John’s spine.

Mrs Hudson briefly squeezed John’s shoulder. “If you hurt him, I’ll lace your tea with rat poison. I know a nice lad who is a building contractor and he’ll bury your body somewhere in a concrete slab.”

Theatrical as it might appear, John believed her every word.

And just like this, the fearsome avenging angel that had occupied Mrs Hudson’s body disappeared, leaving the nice old landlady behind.

“Do you want another cup of tea, my dear?” She asked sweetly.

In this moment John decided that Martha Hudson was a true heroine.

++++++

tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs  @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @calaisreno

[xxaraaq]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙑𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙚

masterlist

Synopsis | Alicent is a Godly woman who's morals stand high above everything else. She's given everything she's supposed to to the realm. She is so selfless, so fucking her husbands brother is the one thing she can keep to herself, right?

Word count | 1.5k

cw | Infidelity, spoken violence, corruption?

Authors note | Hi y'all. I know I haven't posted in literally the longest time ever but if I'm being honest I've been fighting with life it up until about a week ago it was beating my ass. Anyways, I'm back now, and I hope that this will make up for it, enjoy! Not edited.

She is a good queen.

That’s what she thinks to comfort herself whenever the regrets of her past set in.  She has done her duty to the realm, giving birth to formidable sons and a beautiful daughter. She did what she was supposed to do, she just happened to do it with the wrong man.

No one could blame her for her choices. Her husband, a now senile, miserable old man who had no romantic love for her, failed in his role as her source of comfort. Once Rhaenyra went off and fucked her uncle in a brothel, she felt as though she had no true friends, no real allies.

No one except you.

You were the youngest of you, Viserys, and Daemon. Meaning that you had no real responsibilities. You had close to if not no chance of inheriting the iron throne, and you accepted it. Instead of struggling futilely trying to climb your way up the line of succession, you sat back, kicked your feet up, and enjoyed the life of a royal, of a Targaryen.

With you and Alicent being so close in age, you only being four years her senior, she found it easier to converse and jest with you compared to her husband and virtually everyone else around her. You were light hearted, a companion she often sought the company of. And even though her fathers concern grew about the influence you have on her that grows with each passing day, she paid it no mind. After all, she was the queen, and no one could tell her no.

It was the day the ‘rumors’ spread about Rhaenyra that you swooped in. Exhausted, you were the first person she went to to deliver the news. 

“Your sister has ruined almost any chance she has at marrying a suitable lord.” Alicent huffs, pacing back and forth around the room. You chuckle, amused by the entire ordeal. “She is a princess, maiden or not, my brother will surely find a wealthy husband for my niece.” You say, trying to ease her nerves. It obviously doesn’t help, her looking at you like you have two heads. “This is nothing to joke about. Your niece might run your entire house into ruin with the horrid accusations circling about. Have you no care in what happens?” She yells, desperate to get you to understand her frustration in it all. “Accusations? Alicent, my closest friend, you are no fool. You and I both know she fucked my brother in a whorehouse. You can speak freely with me, I promise you that.” You stand from your chair, making your way towards her. You love your niece and brother, but you’re also not one to deny the truth.

A tear slips from her eye, the stress of it all pouring down on her. “Oh, my dear, don’t cry.” You cup her face in your rough hands. A chill runs down her spine, something she’s never felt before. The look you have in your eyes is not what she’s seen from you before. Your eyes are dark, a smirk on your face that means nothing but trouble.

“You are a good woman, I must say. A loyal wife, an obedient daughter, a great friend. You never fail to be there to fulfill the needs and wants from others around you. But what about your needs, hmm?” You ask, tone sultry with an emotion she can’t pinpoint. “I-I don’t understand what you mean.” She stutters, growing shy from your demeanor. “You know what I mean, Alicent. When’s the last time you’ve truly felt fulfilled? Rhaenyra is too busy chasing after Daemon like a lost pup to spend time with you. Your husband is still stuck on Aemma even though he’s the reason she passed on in the first place, God's rest her soul. And your father, as much as he may love you, sees you as nothing more than a tool. I am the only one who has genuine intentions for you. The only things I care about ensuring is your well-being and happiness. A life full of not knowing what it’s like to be pleasured and to bring pleasure is not one worth living.” 

She knows that you mean this deep down in your heart, and that makes her want to give in all the more. ‘We can’t, what if someone finds out?” She asks, fear covering her features. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Who would be so impudent as to try and tell the King that his youngest brother is fucking his wife?” You say. 

She thinks for a second, then two, then three. “I’m… I’m not certain that having an affair would be for the best.” She says, backing away until she hits the edge of a table. “Let me show you what I could do for you, please? If you don’t like it, just say the word and I’ll never make an advance again, I promise this to you.” You almost plead, desperation laced through every word you speak. You have to have her, you’re sure you’ll die if you don’t.

Her silence fills the room, making your heart beat all the more harder. You almost dropped to your knees to thank the Gods for having you in their favor the moment she nodded her head yes. It was slow at first, a kiss on the neck, a light caress on her thigh, but then you stopped holding back, and you took her to that table in a matter of minutes. You held your hand to her mouth, trying to keep her as quiet as possible as you fucked into her tight cunt with a fervor you’ve never felt before. Everything about her drove you crazy as you corrupted her. The scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, the way she so futilely used her hand to try and push you from her as your thick cock plowed through her. 

Your secret relations kept on through the years, past the birth of Ageon and the rest of the children. The both of you knew that all four of them were yours, words not needed to be spoken to know that you were the one to sire the king's heirs and not the king himself.

As everyone grew, so did the tensions concerning the birth of your niece's sons. You had to laugh when you first saw Jace’s brown tufts of hair. How could she be so transparent about her infidelity? It was Rhaenyra’s actions that truly caused the hatred to stir within Alicent. You knew as well as everyone else that it was only a matter of time before things grew too large to keep a blind eye to it all.

The day that Aemond was maimed was one that nobody could ever forget. It was truly just a blurry haze of squeaky voices, deep insults, and the sound of a sheathed blade. The royal blood that covered the pavement that night would never be forgotten. You were the one that escorted the queen back to her room that night, providing an environment where her tongue could be as loose as need be. You shut the door, the creakiness that shows its age filling the silence. “That vile woman and her, her…” She couldn’t even get the words out, she was so furious. “Bastards? Say it Alicent, we all know it to be the truth.” You say, leaning against the stone wall. She groans, hand running over her face as she goes back to her habit of pacing the room. “The king is so shielded by the love he has for her, he can’t even see the vile things she has done.” She says, pupils so dilated with rage she can’t see straight. “Must I remind you that we are in the same boat as her, only that her’s has started to sink while ours stays afloat?” You say, quick to point out the sins she has also committed. The words catch in her throat, taken aback by your sudden correction. “Are you taking her side?” Her voice trembles with stress as she picks at her nail beds. “Do you not remember how I to this day sneak into you room through secrets passageways to fuck you to sleep every night? How I’ve filled your womb with so much seed I’ve impregnated you four times? Or have you forgotten how all our children are bastards as well?” You say, your voice sarcastically sweet as you grip her waist, pulling her backside flush to her chest. You lay kisses on her neck and shoulders, soothing her tenseness almost immediately. “What happened to our son is a tragedy that may never be avenged. But as he said, the reward for losing his eye was much greater than the pain he suffered.” You whisper in her ear.

She is a good queen, she thinks to herself. 

She is a good queen, even as she lets you fuck her up against the bed posts, mouth cover by your calloused hands once more to keep her muffled sounds of ecstasy hidden from the outside world

-Nene

[zukkacore]

Crossposted to ao3

The morning after Frosty Fair Festival, Jace summons Porter to the principal’s office.

“I’ve been VP for five minutes, and I find out that one of the fucking Bad Kids is taking three simultaneous years of artificer class? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You can’t pin that on me, Stardiamond.” Porter’s laugh is easygoing, and he’s only half paying attention as he watches the smoke trail from the cigarette he’s waving around. “I tried to dissuade him. He put himself through that.”

“But you won’t sign his MCAT. Do you want his annoying little truant friend to hate you?”

Porter laughs. “Miss Faeth isn’t a truant, I’ve been taking attendance for her in barbarian classes nearly every day."

He takes a long drag. “Of course you have.”

“Miss Faeth hates me no matter what I do. If she hasn’t caught on to what’s going on by now, I think you can breathe. Besides, I like a challenge. Something you could stand to learn.”

He tries to take another drag, but his hands are shaking, he’s so mad. There’s a clenching in his chest where the shatterstar is placed, then a pain that radiates outward. He winces. “Be it from me to question your teaching methods, but. Do you know what the Bad Kids did to the last vice principal?”

“Hey. I brought you back once. I can do it again.”

“I—” He doesn’t want to talk about that right now. He’s not ready to talk about it. “Tell me, does getting chewed out by a devil because one of his best bloodrush players is swamped sound like a good time to you? Jawbone recommended I look into xanax, that’s how wired I’ve been. And that was before I got ‘promoted’.”

“I’m sure you could get your hands on some if you attended one of his orgies.”

“Go to hell.”

“Likewise.”

They glare back and forth. Jace is used to getting into tiffs with Porter, but this—this is real.

 When he opens his mouth, his voice is quiet. “I don’t see why you can’t just sign the kid’s fucking MCAT.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the whole impassioned speech,” says Porter, “It’s nice to see you actually riled up about something once in your silver-spoon life, maybe finally you’ll start giving a fuck.”

“I’m not riled up,” says Jace, but he’s working to keep his voice steady.

He’s used to the assumptions about his life, and he’d much rather keep up appearances than let a soul know about his estranged parents or the mind that’s trying to kill him. That’s the thing about sorcery—when your power is innate, you can never stop being grateful. If things are fucked, they could always, always be worse. He has to be unassuming. He likes being unassuming, because a gift is not a threat. And if his student’s can see that this scary thing they can’t help doesn’t have to rule their life, then, yeah, he’s ok with being a little bit of a joke.

At least, he was ok with it, before Porter Cliffbreaker broke him and shoved a shatterstar into his gaping chest wound and gave him a choice: rage or oblivion? He made his choice. He can’t back out now. So doesn’t Porter see he’s trying to look out for him? “I just think it would make things so much easier—”

“For who? You? Pardon me for treading on your cushy little gig.”

“Oh, we’re way past that.” Eight months past, to be exact. His mind is drifting back fondly to bleeding out in the Mountain’s of Chaos. He’s grateful that it’s so early in the morning, that no one is around to cast Detect Thoughts.

“Thistlespring could use a little tough love. That’s just the way I teach, now that you’re in charge, you’re gonna have to deal with it. He’s an orc, Stardiamond—barbarism is in his blood. He just needs to apply himself. I mean, you’ve seen the kid play bloodrush, he’s a beast.”

He grimaces. Something about the way Porter is speaking, he can’t place it, but he feels sick to his stomach.

“Right,” says Porter, clearly misjudging the expression on his face. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt for you to show a little school spirit.”

Jace laughs sharply.

“Well. He’s a beast you’re gonna find yourself on the wrong side of if you don’t watch yourself. You know how The Bad Kids are—they worm their way into everything, and the goblin that Kipperlily hates, he’s the worst of all. You know, he ate—Forget it. I just. I don’t want you getting—” He stops just short of saying it. As much as Porter has personally fucked him over, he’s in it too deep. Despite everything, Jace cares about him. He’s just so tired of trying to make things work. “If… this plan is so important to you, you have to be a little more tactful and a little less—you.”

“You think I can’t take care of myself, Stardiamond?” Porter flashes an infuriating grin.

“I didn’t say that. I just said… Be careful.”

“I appreciate the feedback and the personal concern, veep, but trust me when I say you’re letting your personal feelings get in the way with this one.”

His face is burning up, and he’s certain he’s a humiliating shade of red. Jace doesn’t even have to say anything. Porter knows what a low blow that is.

“Yeah, well,” mutters Jace. “Multiclassing is not for everyone.”

“Right.”

Jace is a good sorcerer. So good that it’s hard to articulate to his students what to him is second nature. He’s not the kind of teacher who does lesson plans precisely because he was never the kind of student who needed to study. It’s eerie how much Porter in these moments reminds him of his own teacher—the kind of teacher who praises his natural gifts all day and was absolutely resistant to him looking into other classes because he viewed it as a waste, as noncommittal, as proof of his lack of dedication. 

Jace never got his MCAT signed. And he was… not prepared for the sheer volume of work required for even early level wizardry. He wanted it; he wanted to be the kind of dedicated person who could put in the work. Maybe his teacher had been right, maybe he wasn’t very bright, and maybe he hadn’t been cut out to be a wizard, but it did feel a little like he was thrown in the deep end and told to swim just to prove a point. He’s always been a slave to his impulses. And in the end, he ran back to sorcery where they welcomed him back with open arms because it felt good to be good at something.

He can feel the thrum of the shatterstar in his chest, anger coupled with shame. He hates himself for being Jace Stardiamond. He’s always taken the path of least resistance. 

He’s not even sure he could call himself a good sorcerer anymore. He’s never been the kind of wizardly person who innately finds the joy of learning and discovery. He’s never found it all that rewarding. But sorcery does require a kind of self-knowledge, a certainty of oneself that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Whoever he is right now is a stranger, buried under several feet of bitterness and self-loathing.

“What’s it to you? You don’t even give a fuck about your own students, have you gotten a soft heart about little Thistlespring all of a sudden?”

“I don’t give a fuck about Thistlespring! Don’t you get it?”

“Look, if he confronts me on it, I’ll sign the damn MCAT. Happy? I was only resistant at first because—well, I mean, have you heard that ridiculous song he sings? The kid’s not very bright.”

He doesn’t answer.

“I’ll get it done if it means that much to you. C’mere.”

Porter takes Jace by the hands, pulling him in so that he can wrap his arms around Jace’s waist.

“We’re at school—” says Jace, but his protests are half-hearted. He turns his head, and he can feel Porter’s lips press up against his cheek.

“Listen to me.” Porter takes his face in his hands. “I have everything under control. The Bad Kids are nothing, Jace. Trust me. They’re twig gremlins. Maybe I got a little overinvested. I can’t help it, I need recruits, and the kid’s a natural. But that’s not everything. He’s too… Too timid. Afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Embracing his power.”

“Are… Are we still, um—” Porter’s gaze on him is so intense, Jace forgets what he’s saying. But that drive that he sees in Porter, that deep need to push, to optimize, to always be the best—it’s always been a source of deep frustration for Jace. But he can’t deny those are the same traits that make Porter so easy to admire. Maybe it’s just a wish, but he swears he can see the same admiration mirrored in Porter’s expression.

He can feel himself being reeled back in. His life is currently a living hell, but something in him has always felt compelled to be worthy of Porter’s admiration.   

He wishes he could be the kind of person Porter wants him to be. He worries that there is no ascendant version of him, that this really is all his potential, plain and simple. But he’ll try. For Porter, he wants to be great.

They can hear footsteps on the other side of the door. Time for school.

Porter is quick to change gears. He coughs, clearing his throat as Jace is quick to step away. “Tell you what—I’ll get that straightened away, Stardiamond. I’ll sign the papers. Things were a little rocky at first, but you know what? He earned it, after the damn display of frosty fair. He’ll make a great… adventurer.” He’s watching. “You know. When the time comes.”

Jace sighs, but it does nothing to help release the tension in his chest. Yeah. Frosty fair. He has to make the announcement about that soon. He can feel a headache coming on just thinking about it.

Porter kisses him, but Jace is quick to brush him away and toward the door. “You need to go.”

Porter grins, and Jace can feel his heart skipping like he’s some teen adventurer with a schoolyard crush. “Tell me some things aren’t worth a little risk.”

“Well, I have to give a speech,” says Jace, following Porter out of the office. Jawbone waves at them, and Jace nods as he shuts the door behind them.

“Hey. You’re gonna knock it out of the park, alright?” He gives Jace a punch in the shoulder, and it’s so awkward that Jace would be charmed by it in any other circumstance. Like they’re amicable co-workers and not the bad guys. Like they’re not intertwined, Porter’s rage making a comfy little home in his ribcage. “We’re all looking to you, now, Stardiamond. It’s a heavy burden, but I can’t think of anyone else I’d trust more to handle the responsibility.”

Jace doesn’t bother to check his insight. If Porter says it, he’s ready to believe it.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | May 20th-26th 2024

Soooo looks like I had a slow week?

Happy 911 Finale week everyone, may the odds be ever in our favour 🙏

Complete

The Valentine's Grinch by giselleslash/@gigi-gigi (Valentine's Day, Getting Together | 2K | General): Eddie hates Valentine’s Day, but Buck loves it and everything is awful.

and we can stay all day by trippedandfell/ @trippedandfell (Zoologist Buck AU | 3K | Teen): “So let me get this straight,” Hen says, once she’s stopped laughing at him. “Your nerd crush-” “-Evan Buckley,” Eddie miserably interjects. “Your nerd crush,” Hen repeats, waggling her eyebrows. At the kitchen table beside her, Chimney is grinning like Christmas just came early. “Read your drunk tweet and then sent you animal facts via DM?” or: Buck's a zoologist. Eddie's pretty sure he's in love. (Part 1 of zoologist buck)

doing the things that animals do by trippedandfell/ @trippedandfell (Zoologist Buck AU | 3K | Teen): “Hey,” Buck says, reaching out to grab Eddie's hand. “How do you feel about red carpets?” “Tacky in a bedroom, decent in a living room,” Eddie deadpans, because he likes to think he’s funny. or: Buck's still a zoologist. Eddie's definitely in love. (Part 2 of zoologist buck)

perfect boys with their perfect lives by littlesnowpea (Post-7x04 | 4K | Teen): Eddie storms into Frank’s office, sits in the chair across from him, and crosses his arms.Frank waits. “I’m not homophobic,” Eddie explains, and Frank raises an eyebrow. “I’m not! I love Hen and I love Karen and I have never been homophobic in my life.” “So what’s the issue?” “Buck is bi,” Eddie bites out. “And I don’t like it.” There’s a long pause. Then: “Okay,” Frank says. “Let’s unpack that.”

🔥 This May Be Practice, But I'm an Experienced Idiot by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Fake Dating, kinda, Getting Together | 10K | Teen): Buck overhears a conversation between Eddie, Hen, and Chim and misunderstands it all. Or, the one where Buck thinks Eddie’s only asked him on a date for practice.

🔥 change the prophecy by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Alternate Timeline, Curse/Magic | 30K | Mature): Buck has never felt secure in any of his relationships; he’s been searching for someone to see him the way he feels he’s meant to be seen, but after things start going downhill with Tommy, he thinks that person might just not exist. Eddie cannot figure out what’s wrong with him when it becomes clear things with Marisol aren’t going to work out. But what if they’re both forgetting something?

WIP

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 11/19 | 53K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

🔥 stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting | 6/10 | 24K | Not Rated): Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other. As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight. Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?

Podfic

🔥 [Podfic] help me hold on to you by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder for theyarnmaidstale/ @theyarnmaidstale (Getting Together, There Was Only One Bed | 1-1.5h | Teen): Hotel mix-ups happen. Buck knows this. Mistakes get made. Certain firefighters named Eddie Diaz forget to make a reservation and they're left with whatever the hotel has available when they walk in requesting a two-bed room when all that's left is a single queen-sized. Or, five times Buck and Eddie share a bed, but not their feelings and the one time they share both.

🔥 [Podfic] I, Hildy by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder for whileyouresleeping/ @allyourfandomsbelongtous (S4 | 1-1.5h | Mature): It's not often that Buck is the sensible one in their little fire family - but seriously, someone has to let Eddie know that Hildy isn't taking over the world. That is, if Eddie would stop panicking about sentient technology long enough to listen to him. (or - the many ways in which Hildy interfered with Eddie and Buck's life, until they got the picture.)

🔥 [Podfic] beauty in the small things by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder for thisissirius / @thisissirius (Canon Divergent, Writer Eddie | 45-60min | Mature): I don’t want therapy. I don’t want to self-medicate. I don’t want to be a failure to my son. How, then, is a guy supposed to deal with everything he suffered during war without damaging himself and his family? Yeah, writing wasn’t my first thought either, but here we are. (Part 1 of the trees of vermont [Podfics] )

🔥[Podfic] preceded by chaos by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder for elisela/ @elisela (Canon Divergent, Not Firefighters | 30-45min | Mature): It’s easy to find work tending bar, easier still to flirt with everyone who passes by, to spend every night in a different bed. He tells himself that he’s having fun; he’s young, he’s sowing his wild oats, he has plenty of time to settle down. He tells himself it doesn’t matter if nobody wants a second date, if they don’t even want a first. (Part 2 of the trees of vermont [Podfics] )

🔥[Podfic] peace was never an option by Cass_Caelis/ @cassiopeiacaelis for trippedandfell/ @trippedandfell (Soulmate AU, Crack | 20-30min | Teen): Buck closes his eyes and tries to think of something that isn’t the curve of Eddie’s smile. Like the fact that he’ll have to try and beg Ravi for his couch back. Or that he’ll have to figure out a place to store said couch. Or that there’s something honking insistently beside him in the Jeep, far too close for comfort. Which - what? Or: it’s a beautiful day in LA, and Buck is being harassed by a horrible goose.

🔥[Podfic] Carbon Date Me, Excavate Me by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder for extasiswings/ @extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Archeology AU, Enemies to Lovers | 45-60min | Explicit): Evan "Buck" Buckley has made a name for himself as the independent bad boy of archaeology. At least, until Professor Eddie Diaz shows up with his fedora and good looks and starts beating Buck to the punch more often than not. Buck hates his stupid six-pack covered guts. Except for how... he might not.

🔥Medicine Man (PODFIC) by ToughPaperRound/ @toughpaperround // fic by LovelyLittleGrim / @lovelylittlegrim (Getting Together | 20-30min | General): Buck doesn't know what to do when Eddie kisses him on the forehead the first time (or the second time) but he does know he wants him to do it again.

🔥[Podfic] paint me a heaven with your bloodied mouth by MistMarauder / @mistmarauder for extasiswings/ @extasiswings (Getting Together | 30-45min | Teen): Buck. Four letters. One syllable. Eddie knows it’s a nickname. He doesn’t know why Buck picked it or why Buck seems to use it exclusively, but he figures it isn’t really his business. And also that it probably isn’t that deep—all of them use nicknames at work or otherwise in their daily lives. Eddie himself might find it weird if anyone outside of his immediate family suddenly started using his full name regularly after so many years of only rarely hearing it from anyone else. So. Eddie calls Buck Buck. And he doesn’t think anything of it. At least…not at first.

🔥[Podfic] and longer by far by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder for farfromthstars/ @buckactuallys (Marriage Proposal | 1.5-2h | Teen): Eddie’s been married once, and after Shannon asked him for a divorce and then died before they could do anything about it, he figured that was it for him. One marriage with all its ups and downs is enough for a lifetime. Granted, he didn’t think he’d fall in love with Buck and be lucky enough for that love to be returned. OR Everyone seems to expect Eddie to propose to Buck any minute now, which is annoying because Eddie doesn’t want to get married again. He's sure of that. Or is he?

🔥[podfic] I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by Itty_Bitty_Blondie/ @itty-bitty-blondie by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (You've Got Mail Fusion, S2 | 3-3.5h | Teen): When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other.

🔥Even the Bartender Knows (PODFIC) by ToughPaperRound/ @toughpaperround (Outsider POV, Getting Together | 20-30min | Teen): The Bartender at The Manhole gets a lot of guys coming into his bar who are questioning their sexuality. Helping them through it is kinda part of his job. But when a pretty Blond comes in and starts going on and on about how in love he is with his best friend, only for a man fitting said description of that best friend, walks in a few nights later going on and on about how in love he is with his best friend, well he's never seen that before.

[hippolotamus]

Truth or Dare tag game

Thanks for the tags @underwaterninja13 @tizniz @dangerpronebuddie @kitteneddiediaz @spotsandsocks 💖

Which friends/mutuals would you call to hide a body?

@blackandwhiteandrose @stereopticons @giddyupbuck @watchyourbuck

How many user subscriptions do you have on Ao3?

122 (☺️ thank you)

Do you have a crush on someone? OR If you're with someone, tell us one thing you love about them.

Always saves me the last bite of something delicious

What does the last DM/text you sent say?

I'm so so curious

List the three friends/mutuals with the best takes

always enjoy @gayhoediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz and am continually impressed, bewitched and bewildered by my wife @bidisasterevankinard

also @steadfastsaturnsrings @spotsandsocks

@daffi-990 absolute queen of sending hilarious gifs and jokes/puns

Share one of your favorite fics of all time

One??? Really??? Rude. I have so many, I'm going to list some underrated favs

i wouldn't call it a mission by ASweeterArrangement (I’m sorry I don’t know their current tumblr)

Spanish Lullaby by blackandwhiteandrose

Play me like a fiddle by JamesPearce911/ @diazsdimples

twist yourself around me by @stereopticons (Schitt's Creek)

red life might stream again by Underhung_Aura / @eddiebabygirldiaz

saving you, saves me. by @tizniz

in my head by @your-catfish-friend

Our Love is Like a Storybook Story (But it's as real as the feelings I feel) by Bob_loblaws_lawblog/ @bi-buckrights

[WIP] Three Taps for the Lombardi by Wildgirl93/ @wildlife4life

List three of your favorite content creators

I already know I'm forgetting people but...

Darling Talented Wife @lizzie-bennetdarcy her art and words are unparalleled

@loserdiaz another incredible artist

@loveyouanyway @giddyupbuck @theotherbuckley @djdangerlove your edits are phenomenal

@bucksketch @skyhighrollins911 @nymika-arts I’m in constant awe of their work

Write one thing you love about yourself

My dark, sarcastic sense of humor

Which fandom of yours (past or present) has the best fics?

Don’t get me wrong, 9-1-1 has great fics, but damn the Schitt’s Creek fandom has some of the most outstanding works. Like... dude.

Which creation of your own are you the most proud of?

This Lucy Donato artwork

I'm preemptively naming one of my WIPs, you're where I wanna go as a thing I'm most proud of because, even though the words don't happen nearly as frequently as I'd like, it is the most precious and special to me.

Have you ever read RPF?

And written

Tag the mutual(s)/friend(s) most likely to get away with murder

@blackandwhiteandrose @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

Tag the mutual(s)/friend(s) who know(s) the most about you

@blackandwhiteandrose @stereopticons (are we sensing a theme yet?) @diazsdimples @vanillahigh00

Now tag some friends to play!

@stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz mi amor @bidisasterevankinard

@elvensorceress @bi-buckrights @loveyouanyway @hoodie-buck @wikiangela

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @giddyupbuck @daffi-990 @vanillahigh00 @bucksbiawakening

@filet-o-feelings @lemonzestywrites @theotherbuckley @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes

@welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘