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#i don't want to do this for anyone else ever
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feral omega reader x task force 141
I've read a lot of Task Force 141 being assigned a group omega to force them to chill tf out as an all-alpha pack, BUT!-- imagine instead of taking one from a roster, Price just one day comes back from a mission with an omega he picked up from God knows where, cradling her like she's an injured cat.
The man's got tousled hair and a few scratches on his cheek from trying to wrench poor you out of a dangerous situation. Stuck under a fallen building or in an enemy prison cell, maybe--but that doesn't matter. You're coming home with him cause you've got nowhere else to go. And now you're essentially the feral wet cat adopted by these massive, powerful alphas. Cause omegas are supposed to be sweet and soft and tiny, and they just wanna protect you, but you're only tiny. And you've got a whole lot of teeth. It's both equally endearing and concerning.
Of course, the boys can handle you, though. And by handle, I mean, "Here, kitty, kitty. Please don't bite me this time. See, we're friends now!" At least that was how Soap put it, whereas Price and Ghost just sat in the same space with you until you learned that they were chill. Gaz made peace offerings with food. Soap was the last to enter your good graces.
Meanwhile Kate just tolerates you, since she doesn't know what the hell Price was thinking.
"You could've had anyone from the list, you know. A proper omega who knows how to cook and clean."
"Ah, but where's the fun in that? 'sides, she needed a home like the rest of us."
_
Bonus Thoughts:
Once you've calmed, you're still feisty--just feisty with everyone else but 141. Kate is somewhat of an extension. Not quite pack but trusted by your packmates. You eventually settle for glaring at her from across the room.
Heats? Yes. Sexual heats? Not quite. I imagine feral reader only ever being cuddly during her heats, at least at the start. But do with that what you will--it's one of the few times she initiates touch first. That, and when she's the possessive one--not the boys.
She's also definitely a bit of a kleptomaniac. She's already got one of Ghost's extra masks, Price's bandana, etc. from when they all gave her random stuff to get her used to their scents, but once she's gotten over fighting back, she wants more, more, more. Shirts and jackets start going missing. Even pillowcases. They catch on, of course, but nobody finds anything until Price opens his closet one day, and BAM--one messy hoard of a nest.
"You could've just asked."
Mildly disgruntled hissing.
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A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton
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Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: none
wordcount: +3k
a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite ❤️❤️
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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The room was buzzing—cameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.
Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.
The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.
He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.
“Okay, so this should be easy” he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didn’t want to disturb the couple’s chemistry “No serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. We’re here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, y’know, juicy enough to make people smile.”
Lewis’s wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husband’s space, raised an eyebrow. “Define juicy” a sly smile tugging at her lips.
The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people don’t already know. Maybe embarrass him a little—" he motioned to Lewis—"but in a cute way.”
Lewis shot the director a mock glare “Right, you don’t really need to ask her that” he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.
His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. “Promise not to dig too deep. Unless we’re talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...”
Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Not the beach sneakers again! One time and I’m branded for life.”
The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.
There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.
The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. “Alright, alright. Let’s save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, it’s just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.”
His wife reached over and squeezed Lewis’s hand. “No promises.”
As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gestures—the way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.
They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.
The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wife’s chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.
Except this wasn’t quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.
The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.
“Alright, let’s get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?”
Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. “I’ll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.”
She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. “Bandanas?” she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. “You sure it wasn’t the Timberlands?”
Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. “Not the Timbs,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.
“Yeah, the Timbs” she said, fully grinning now. “Let me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suits—”
Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I still stand by those, alright? I don’t care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.”
She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.
“Okay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?”
Lewis’s wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. “His sense of style,” she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.
Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. “Seriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guy’s sense of style?”
For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at him—his bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crack—she broke. Her laugh wasn’t exactly loud but it filled the room.
“Okay, fine!” She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “It was your eyes.”
Lewis’s eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.
She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. “They’re intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... it’s impossible not to notice.”
Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. “Well, damn” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.
The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.
“Next one—‘On what occasion have you lied to me?’”
Lewis’s eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. “Uh… Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?”
Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!”
He winced, trying to play it cool. “I mean… It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“Oh, I noticed,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!”
The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.
“Roscoe was the perfect scapegoat…” Lewis defended himself.
“My poor baby” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You threw him under the bus!”
“He didn’t seem to mind,” Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. “But hey, I bought you new ones”
She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.
“Have I ever made you jealous?”
Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. “She has, yes.”
His wife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? When exactly?”
He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. “Come on, give me the details.”
Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. “The silver dress” he said, voice low.
For a second, she didn’t react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. “Ohhh, that night!”
Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.
“That night was something” she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.
Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you think it was so funny.”
“Oh, babe, you were so grumpy” she teased, nudging him with her foot.
Lewis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.
“What’s a song that reminds you of each other?”
This time, she didn’t even hesitate. “A Life Like This by Nao.”
Lewis’s face softened immediately. “Why that one?”
She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. “Because... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasn’t really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.”
For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed him—no amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.
He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really gonna get me emotional, huh?” he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.
She just smiled; her eyes full of love. “That’s the plan.”
The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.
“What’s something you wish you did more often?”
Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Lazy mornings.”
She smiled, nodding. “Yeah?”
“Yeah” he said softly, his eyes on her. “No alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.”
She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. “Yeah.”
Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.
“Okay love birds, next up ‘What is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?’”
She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. “The necklace you gave me on our third date.”
The director blinked, looking between them. “Third date?”
“Oh yeah” she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. “He was whipped by then.”
Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You make it sound like I was proposing marriage.”
“You weren’t far off, though” she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. “He gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this guy is serious.’”
Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew what I wanted.”
“That you did” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.
“Yeah” he grinned. “No point in playing games.”
She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. “It’s not just the necklace though. It’s what it represented. He was showing me he wasn’t just there for fun—he was there for real.”
Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”
“When did you first know that you were in love?”
This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. “In love with whom?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, don’t start.”
She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. “I knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.”
Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, didn’t remember that.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could’ve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.”
Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.
“What’s your favorite memory of the two of you?”
Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That time we missed the flight in Paris.”
She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. “Nooo, not that!”
“Yep,” Lewis said with a smile. “So we were in Paris, right? And someone—” he pointed at her playfully, “—was absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.”
“It would’ve!” she protested, already laughing. “The traffic was insane!”
“Yeah sure” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, ‘Let’s just get a cab,’ but nooo, you were determined.”
She shook her head, smiling. “It was an adventure!”
“It was chaos and we missed the flight by hours” Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.
“But honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we weren’t lost within ourselves.”
Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. “You never told me that was your favorite memory.”
“Yeah” he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. “I felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.”
For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.
She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch “I think that’s my favorite memory now, too.”
Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras weren’t even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.
The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.
“Alright, now to wrap this up ‘When can we expect little Hamiltons running around?”
Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughing—only this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didn’t.
Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ooooh, good one.”
“You had to go there, didn’t you?” she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “Real smooth.”
The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Well, you never know, right?”
His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. “When you least expect it”
The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. “Any plans in the near future?”
“Oh, besides, like, tomorrow’s plans?” she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.
Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoe’s bath time…”
The director chuckled, shaking his head. “Dodging the question, I see.”
Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. “We’ll let you know when it happens... maybe.”
And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called “cut” for the final time.
The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.
Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.
“That was a bit mushy, wasn’t it?” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.
Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. “Just a little. But you started it.”
She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Tou’re not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.”
He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.
She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. “Good. I like you better that way.”
She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. “People are going to think we’re a pair of softies.”
Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Let them.”
She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. “I guess it’s not the worst thing to be.”
He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. “Nah, it’s not.”
Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rolling—just a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.
Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.
For a second, she stiffened—more out of surprise than anything—but then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.
“Alright, lover boy” she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. “What’s all this about?”
“Just holding you” he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. “Feels like we haven’t had a minute to ourselves in forever.”
She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck “You’ll get them,” she promised quietly. “We’ll make time.”
Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he started, his tone teasing “about those Timbs.”
She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. “I thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.”
“I never agreed to that” he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. “I’m still rocking them, remember?”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well, at least one of us has evolved.”
He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”
“I do,” she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. “I really do.”
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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 13 hours
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“𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐦𝐞” •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
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synopsis: asking sylus to be more rough with you…don’t do it again.
tags: rough, spanking, edging, manhandling, creampie, degradation, explicit, vulgar, doggystyle, tears, etc.
wrd cnt: 0.9k
a/n: this one was sitting in the drafts for like a bajillion years i think
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You learned your lesson now, don’t ever tell Sylus to be more rough.
It’s not like he can’t be, or doesn’t want to; because fuck does he want to.
It was for your own well being that he didn’t go too far.
So let’s say it’s your fault he’s absolutely destroying you right now, your face pushed down onto the pillow while his other hand grips tightly on your hip.
“Sy-lus…wait!” You plead, your cheek squished onto his silk pillowcase while you beg for him to slow down, only to hear a deep, rich, almost mocking laughter.
“Don't tell me you're crying already Kitten? You wanted me to rough you up a bit, what’s wrong now?” He says, his voice not far away from a growl.
You can only cry into the sheets, feeling his throbbing cock stretching out your walls as he pounded you in so hard there was sure to be a dent in the mattress. Your walls would remember the stretch and think only of him. He was ruining you for anyone else.
“Please- S-slow down…” You mewled, juices spraying out and coating your clit as it drips down, teardrop shapes sure to stain the sheets.
With a tsk, Sylus pulled out of you, the sudden change making your body scrunch up slightly.
“A complacent thing like you doesn’t deserve my cock.” He spouts, leaving a hard smack on your ass and flipping you over. He takes your wrists in one hand, pulling them above your face and pinning you while his other cups your face harshly.
“Or maybe you want me to be even more rough? Ignoring your little pleas. “Is that it, sweetie?”
Truthfully you didn’t even know what you wanted right now, but the way he was throwing you around and speaking to you made everything inside you grow more warm and wanting.
So he made the decision for you, gently smacking your face like he wanted you more awake, on your toes l, before giving you a command.
“Up. Get on all fours. You know better than to disobey, don't you?”
You knew what was good for you, apparently not when you first asked Sylus to be rough, but you knew to not push him anymore.
You weakly crawl up, palms and knees smooth against the slippery sheets.
“Good. Spread your legs a little more, let me see how messy you are down here.” He says, clearly on a mission to embarrass you.
You hesitate but only for a second, spreading your knees farther and arching your back down to give him a good view.
“Mhmm, good girl,” He coos, taking his thumb and pressing it into your slit, letting your arousal drip out with every small press; making you clench your hole around nothing.
“This pussy is so needy…and you want me to stop? Look at you. Such a pathetic little thing.”
You shudder at his words, pushing your ass back to feel more of his thumb inside you.
But that wasn’t smart. He pulled out of you, licking his finger with a pop sound leaving his mouth.
“You want more? You were just begging me to slow down, make up your mind.” He says harshly, leaving no room for any negotiations.
“Tell me what you want.” He says hastily to bridge your silence, giving your ass a harsh slap to break it.
“W-want you to fuck me more Sy…” You say quietly, your ears heating up at how embarrassing that was to say out loud.
“Louder” Sylus takes a wack at your ass again, leaving a red mark of his hand.
“More- Please!” You squeal, your eyes shut and in recovering of his harsh treatment on your body.
Without a warning, he pulls your ankles toward him, making you fall face down onto the bed; dragging your lower half to dangle off the edge as you feel hour two feet slightly touch the hardwood as he pushes on your lower back; keeping your chest pressed into the bed and your rear against his cock, eager to pummel into your waiting walls.
“Why are you shaking kitten? I haven’t even done anything yet.” He says, dragging the tip of his cock up and down your folds, sadistically poking it in and out of your hole.
“But youre right, you should be scared.” He added, grabbing your arms and pulling them back again to cuff you into position with his large grasp.
“Are you ready?” He asks, putting up a loving front before he rams his cock into you when he hears you speak another “wait!”.
You cry out, his cock kissing the deepest parts inside your velvet folds over and over at a speed you’ve never felt before.
“You’re crying again honey? You’re squeezing on me so tight…I think you like this.” He says, laughing softly as he speeds up, even as he’s fucking you on the end of the bed the bedframe starts to hit the wall with each thrust.
“Sylus-! Fuck…I-I’m gonna cum…” You whimper out, your throat dry from your moans.
“You better.” He threatens. “You’ll cum and you’re going- to. thank. me.” He says sternly, giving you a hard thrust after each word; pushing you over the edge.
You cry out, feeling the bubbling knot in your stomach tighten before coming completely snapping.
“Fuck-Sy…Sylus! T-Thank you…thank you-!” You repeated over and over, like a chant to your god.
He barely stopped, still thrusting into you, making sure you learn your lesson.
Only a few moments go by before he reached his own high, before you felt it.
He hopes you know this isn’t your last orgasm of the night.
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whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
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kick-a-long · 2 days
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i find it so desperately sad that goyim generally would be so much less antisemitic if jews started physically fighting back with guns or sticks in every country. calling for the murder of muslims all over the world, if the jewish population was big enough to have large scary groups of crazy fringe fundamentalist synagogues all over the world, a billion strong, that preached murder and hate so goyim could look down on jews like some noble savage in need of assistance and western education and protection. so we could be reformed in obvious patronizing ways because there were so many of us that we had militant violent fringe extremists, like christians and muslims have, mixed in with the normal jews.
if jews didn't have such a reputation for success and intelligence maybe conspiracy theories would stop blaming us for controlling the world. if we felt less in danger maybe we wouldn't be so obsessed with long term survival.
is antisemitism some warped form of envy? maybe. what sucks is that jews are no better or worse than anyone else. some jews are brutes and some are the most wonderful people imaginable, just like any other group. what sucks is we don't all live up to the reputation of tactical geniuses and wizards with mind control magic. all of us jews are just tired and abused humans who have lived with 2000+ years of generational trauma and the endless fall out from a popular jewish book written 3000+ years ago describing the best practices of jewish culture. It has some great stories, histories, life advice, diet recommendations, hygiene, and rules about how to treat others.
is that such a crime?
trying to show a path forward? not demanding anyone else follow those rules but wanting to do our best to follow them anyway? how to live a good life that makes the world better and makes you proud to have been on earth for the time you were there? jews fail to do this all the time, just like everyone else. I fail all the time. why are people so obsessed with that? people say shylock is a stereotyped antisemitic character but,
"I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge! The villainy you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."
so why do jews always have to be the better man? why do we have to apologize for being angry and sad and hating the people that attack us? that was written by Shakespeare, a christian in the 1600s who often was in debt to jewish money lenders, the only profession left to jews at that time. even he saw the double standard. it makes a good point.
now, i don't want vengeance, i don't want violence, but i feel vengeful. i feel angry that i am unsafe because of play actors and terrorist supporters who want revenge for jews existing but scream bloody murder when jews refuse to dig their own graves, beg forgiveness for ever being born, and lay down in them to be mocked and pissed on and abused in the worst ways imaginable for the entertainment and conquest of it. i want peace with them. they are as human as i am, full of foibles and anger. i want nothing to do with them. i want them to never come near a jew again for the rest of time.
i am sad. all i want is to feel my feelings and advocate for what is the most ethical and practical work around to a world filled with unending suffering while i am still alive. i want them on thier side to live in the world they want and me on my side to live in the world i want. why don't these children of all ages, lost in delusions of fantastical battles and ultimate good and evil, see that? why can't I be a human first as well as a jew first? why do they ask me to pick? why am i not allowed to pick?
it's been almost a year. we're all so tired.
I'm going to a music festival. I'm trying to decide whether to wear a star. why is it dangerous to wear a star around my neck?
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Stirring the Quiet - Brewin' Between the Lines
Jenna Ortega x Female Reader
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Summary: Y/N is still reeling from her run-in with her favorite actress, Jenna Ortega, as she tries to keep things cool in The Daily Grind. Between casual conversation and a shared love for horror novels, the lines between star and stranger begin to blur. As the café empties out and the night winds down, an unexpected moment catches them both off guard—proving that sometimes, the best connections are brewed in the quietest of moments.
Word Count: 1.5k
As I poured the caramel syrup into the iced coffee, my mind raced, replaying the moment Jenna Ortega pulled down her mask. My hands were slightly shaky, trying to maintain focus as I finished off the whipped cream swirl on top. It wasn't every day your favorite actress sat just a few feet away, waiting for you to bring her a drink. The—Jenna Ortega. It wasn't just any celebrity—this was her. I'd admired her ever since her performance on Wednesday. A week ago, I was geeking out to my friends after watching her take on the role of Astrid Deetz in Tim Burton's Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. When she appeared as a cameo in that recent Sabrina Carpenter music video, I was convinced she could do no wrong. I'd followed her career for years, through every role, every transformation. And now here she was, casually sitting in my café, probably just wanting to be treated like anyone else.
But it wasn't just anyone else to me. This was the actress I had looked up to for years, and I was the one making her coffee. I could already feel my face growing warm with the realization, but I pushed the thoughts aside. Stay calm, Y/N. It's just coffee. As I finished the drink, placing it neatly on the counter next to a napkin, I took a deep breath and reached for the tray, trying to look like I wasn't about to freak out. Just as I turned to deliver the order, Wilma emerged from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. She gave me a sideways glance, then noticed the look on my face. She smirked, walking over with a bounce in her step. "So, how's Hoodie holding up?" she asked, leaning against the counter, clearly entertained by whatever she thought was happening. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."
I tried to play it off. "It's nothing—just another customer, you know?" Wilma wasn't buying it. Her smirk widened as she crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. Just another customer? The same one who's been looking over their shoulder thrice this week? Oh, please." She leaned closer, her voice lowering like she was about to spill the juicest secret. "You're acting like your celebrity crush just walked in or something." I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and quickly shook my head. "Wilma, seriously, it's nothing. Just another order." But Wilma raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced. She wasn't going to let this go. "Just another order, huh? You've got that look, Y/N. I know that look. Spill it." She glanced toward the booth, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Wait a minute...don't tell me. Jenna Ortega? Oh my God—it's her, isn't it? I shot her a desperate look, hoping to shut her down before she made a scene. "Wilma—" But she was already grinning ear to ear, loving every second of this. "Holy crap, Jenna—freakin'—Ortega is in our café! And I threw you right into it! This is too good." I sighed, knowing there was no way I could stop her now. "Wilma, keep your voice down! She's just trying to be left alone." Wilma's eyes sparkled, totally unfazed. "Well, aren't you the lucky one? Getting to talk to your celebrity crush? And here I thought you'd hide behind the counter all day." She gave me a playful nudge, clearly enjoying herself. I huffed, trying to control the blush that was now spreading across my face. "I didn't have a choice. You practically pushed me into it." Wilma laughed, crossing her arms, satisfied with how things had turned out. "Well, looks like my plan worked. And now, you've got a story to tell." I glared at her, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the assist, I guess." "Anytime," she replied, still grinning. "Now go deliver that coffee before it melts. Don't want to keep Jenna waiting, do you?" I took one final breath to calm my nerves, grabbed the tray with Jenna's iced coffee, and shot Wilma one last look as I headed toward the booth. "You're enjoying this way too much." Wilma winked. "Oh, absolutely."
With the tray in hand, I made my way toward Jenna's booth, taking slow, deliberate steps, trying not to trip over anything that could make this moment even more awkward. My heart was still hammering in my chest, and I swore I could feel Wilma's eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as she watched me. Jenna hadn't noticed me yet. She was sitting in the booth, quietly absorbed in a book. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of the page as she read, the soft glow from her phone resting nearby. For a second, I hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her peaceful moment, but I had to deliver the iced coffee she was waiting for. I cleared my throat quietly, just enough to catch her attention. "Your iced coffee," I said, setting the tray down gently on the table. She blinked, looking up from her book, pulling her hood back slightly as she met my gaze. A small, genuine smile tugged at her lips. "Thanks," she said softly, closing the book but keeping her finger between the pages to hold her place. "No problem," I replied, stepping back and clasping my hands in front of me, trying to act casual. My eyes flickered to the book in her lap; the title was just barely visible. I recognized it immediately— it was a classic horror novel I'd read a few years back. Of course, she's into horror. She caught me looking, and instead of feeling awkward, I smiled. "So...do you come here to escape, or is this just your go-to spot for caramel iced coffee?" Jenna smirked, taking a sip before answering. "A little bit of both. It's hard to find places like this in Hollywood—where people don't care who you are." "We're not big on the whole celebrity worship thing," I replied. "I mean, everyone needs their coffee fix, right?" "Exactly." She smiled again, this time wider, her eyes lighting up. There was something refreshing about the way she relaxed here. It felt like she wasn't just Jenna Ortega, the star of the screen, but a regular person looking for a little peace. I noticed the book still resting in her lap. "is that The Haunting of Hill House?" Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and she was clearly surprised I recognized it. "Yeah, it is," she replied, glancing down at the cover. I've read it before but thought I'd revisit it."
I nodded, a bit of my nervousness fading. "Good choice. Shirley Jackson really knows how to mess with your head, right?" Jenna's smile widened a little as she leaned back in her seat. "Exactly. It's one of my favorites. Creepy, but in a subtle way." I found myself relaxing, the conversation flowing more easily than I expected. "Yeah, the tension in that book...you just feel it building, and you don't even realize you're holding your breath until something happens." She chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Right? I love that feeling when a book gets under your skin." For a brief second, I forgot she was Hollywood's it girl. She was just another person who loved horror novels, just like me. "Well, I'll leave you to it," I said, realizing I'd been lingering too long. "But if you need anything else, just let me know." Jenna picked up her iced coffee and smiled. "Thanks. I will." I turned and headed back to the counter, feeling Wilma's eyes follow suit the whole time.
The second I made it behind the counter, she sidled up next to me with a wide grin. "Sooo? How'd it go, mascot?" she teased, elbowing me. I huffed, rolling my eyes. "I didn't die, if that's what you're asking." Wilma laughed, leaning against the counter. "Oh, come on, spill. Did you chat with her? Did she say anything?" "Yeah, we talked a little," I admitted, feeling the blush creep back onto my face. "She was reading The Haunting of Hill House—you know, classic horror stuff. I tried to keep it cool." Wilma raised an eyebrow. "And?" "And she was super chill about everything. We even geeked out over Shirley Jackson." Wilma's grin widened. "Looks like Jenna approves of your horror knowledge and barista skills. You must be so proud." I groaned, shaking my head. "Please stop." She shrugged, smirk, plastered. "Hey, who knows? Maybe she'll come back just for you." I sighed, rolling my eyes. "If she does, I'll need more than coffee to calm my nerves next time." Wilma chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Nerves? More like butterflies." I shot her a look but couldn't help smirking. "Yeah, and hopefully, I don't spill anything on myself next time." Wilma nodded, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough, superstar. Just remember me when you're living the high life." I glanced back at Jenna's booth one last time. She was already back in her book, occasionally sipping her iced coffee with a relaxed expression. "I guess we'll see in the future."
Three hours until closing, the café had settled into a familiar lull. A handful of customers lingered in their cozy corners, sipping the last of their drinks and enjoying the quiet, low hum of conversation around them. I busied myself behind the counter, wiping it down out of habit, but as I worked, I couldn't help but feel proud. This is exactly the vibe we had hoped for when Wilma and I opened The Daily Grind—a safe haven for anyone who wanted to escape the hustle and bustle of Hollywood, whether they were famous or not. Our little café has become a sanctuary where the pressure of being judged is nonexistent. It was calm, cozy, and welcoming—a little quiet in a city of lights, cameras, and action.
The cafe itself radiated that comforting atmosphere. The evening sun filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm amber glow over the space. The walls were painted in soft, earthy tones—warm beige and deep mocha—creating an atmosphere that wrapped around you like your favorite blanket. String lights twinkled gently overhead, casting a soft, golden light across the mismatched cushioned chairs and rustic wooden tables. Above the tables, lush green plants dangled from the ceiling in macramé holders, their vines cascading down like little waterfalls of greenery, adding a fresh, earthy scent to the room. The plants brought a touch of nature inside, softening the edges of the café's industrial-chic décor. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the faint scent of vanilla candles that burned on the windowsills. The rest of the evening went by quietly, with a comforting rhythm of soft chatter and the occasional clink of mugs. I was leaning over the counter, enjoying the calm, when Wilma came up beside me, holding a pink box. "Hey, mascot," she said, nudging me gently. "It's three hours to closing. Why don't you take this over to Prima?" She lifted the lid to reveal a perfectly frosted strawberry donut with rainbow sprinkles. "Prima?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the nickname. Wilma smirked. "Yeah, Prima. It means 'first' in Spanish—like the top of her game. She's Hollywood's leading lady, right? It fits." I rolled my eyes but took the box from her. "You and your nicknames." "Hey, it's fitting. Now go give her the donut before I eat it myself," Wilma replied with a chuckled.
As I made my way over to Jenna's booth, I could feel the familiar flutter of nerves returning. She was still engrossed in her book, oblivious to the world around her. I cleared my throat softly as I approached, setting the box on the table. "Hey, I thought you might like this," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's on the house." Jenna looked up, blinking in surprise. "A donut?" She smiled, peeking inside the box. "With sprinkles?" "Strawberry frosted with sprinkles," I replied a little too quickly. "One of my favorites." Her smile widened, and she closed her book, giving the donut her full attention. "Thank you. This is...really sweet of you. Literally." I laughed softly, suddenly feeling a bit less nervous. "Well, we figured you could use a treat, seeing as you've been hanging out here for a while." Jenna nodded, taking the donut from the box and tearing off a piece. "This place is a perfect hideaway. I don't think I've ever felt this...relaxed in public." "Well, that's exactly what we aim for," I said, smiling as she took a bite of the donut. Jenna smirked and raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting playfully. "And here I thought you were going to spill the sugar again." I chuckled, feeling the heat creep up my neck. "Hey, I managed to keep it together this time. Progress, right?" She smiled. "I'll give you that. But if you need a backup plan, I think the sprinkled donut would cover for any future spills."
Fifty minutes before closing. I was wiping down the counters when Wilma came up beside me, pulling off her apron and holding her bag. "Hey, mascot," she said, glancing at the clock. "I've gotta head out. Time to pick up the little monsters from soccer practice." I raised an eyebrow. "The twins?" She nodded, rolling her eyes. "Yup, those two can't stay out of trouble. If I don't get there on time, they'll probably have convinced the coach to let them play goalie...at the same time." I chuckled. "Good luck with that. Go, save the day." Wilma gave me a dramatic sigh. "You know me, always the hero. But seriously, are you okay with closing up tonight?" "Yeah, I've got it. It's a quiet night." Wilma smirked. "Alright, just don't let Prima keep you past closing. She's still over there, right?" I glanced over toward Jenna's usual booth and shrugged. "I think so. She's been pretty quiet. Probably lost in her book." Wilma, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Well, don't let her charm you too much. I'll see you tomorrow, mascot." With that, she gave me a quick wave and hurried out the door, leaving me alone to finish up the last stretch of the evening. The café slowly emptied out, and as I tidied up, I assumed Jenna had left too. After all, I hadn't noticed her in a while. But as I wiped down the tables and put the chairs up, I glanced over at the window and froze.
She was still there
Curled up in her hoodie, her head resting against the window, she looked peaceful, completely engulfed in her book. Her iced coffee was finished, and the remains of the sprinkled donut sat on the napkin, crumbs scattered on it. It was only twenty minutes until closing, and I realized I'd have to get her attention. I changed from my apron and walked over. "Jenna?" I called softly, not wanting to startle her. She didn't respond, enthralled with the pages. After another unsuccessful attempt, I reached out and gently tapped her shoulder. She jumped slightly, eyes widening in surprise as she looked up at me. "Hey," she said softly, clearly shaken out of her book-induced daze. I chuckled, stepping back. "Sorry, I hate to bother you, but it's closing time." Jenna blinked, glancing around the now-empty cafe. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she realized she was the last one there. "Oh, wow, I didn't even notice. Sorry about that." "No problem," I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "Take your time packing up." I tried to make the situation less awkward as she gathered her things. "You know, I've really enjoyed watching you in... well, everything," I admitted, feeling a bit shy. "Especially Wednesday and Beetlejuice 2. But I've been a fan of your work for a long time." Jenna smiled, her expression softening. "Thank you. That means a lot."
She slung her bag over her shoulder and paused, glancing at me curiously. Actually, can I ask you something?" I blinked. "Of course." "What's your honest opinion of my acting? I always like hearing what people outside the industry think. It's...different." Surprised by the question, I hesitated for a moment, but then I nodded. "Honestly? I think you're amazing. Every time you're on screen, it's like... all eyes are on you. You make it look so effortless like you become the character. It's impressive." Jenna's cheeks turned a little pink again, and this time, I knew it wasn't my imagination. "Wow," she said softly. "That's...probably the nicest feedback I've heard in a while. Thank you." We walked out of the café together, and I didn't realize she'd been walking with me to my car until we reached the lot. We stood there, lingering momentarily, both of us realizing simultaneously. Jenna giggled lightly. "Looks like I walked you to your car instead of the other way around. Guess you've got me charmed after all." I laughed, feeling my own cheeks heat up. Before I could respond, two men in casual clothing approached us from the side, startling me. I froze, eyes wide, but Jenna remained calm. "Don't scare her like that," Jenna said, scolding the men. "Apologize." "Sorry, ma'am, one of the men said quickly, looking genuinely sorry. "They're my bodyguards," Jenna explained, turning to me. "They're with me 24/7, but I told them to give me space in the café. Guess they couldn't resist checking in." I let out a breath, feeling relieved. "That makes sense. We've got a security guard next door at the boutiqué, so I get it. I've also seen bodyguards hang out in the café, keeping an eye on things." Jenna nodded, smiling. "I'll have to bring them in next time for a coffee." I grinned. "Yeah, and I'll have to tell you about the crazy stuff I've seen. We've got some funny bodyguard stories." Jenna raised an eyebrow, her smile playful. "I'll hold you to that. Sounds like a promise," "It's a promise," I said, trying to keep my voice steady though my heart was racing. As Jenna opened her car door, she paused.
"By the way, I never got your name." "Oh," I stammered. "It's Y/N. But everyone calls me Y/N/N." "Nice to meet you officially, Y/N," she said with a smile. "I'm Jenna, but you already knew that." I laughed. "Oh, you're Jenna Ortega! No way you looked familiar!" She laughed, waving as she climbed into the car, her bodyguards following suit. I watched them drive off, and once she was out of sight, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I climbed into my own car, pressing my hands to my face and letting out a small squeal into the steering wheel. "I guess Wilma was right again...she's never going to let me live this one down," I muttered dreamily, starting the engine with a grin still plastered on my face.
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mustainegf · 2 days
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This is a crazy sad idea I had the other night
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁹⁸⁷
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I wake up to the pitter of rain against the windows. The air was dead, with the smell of old wood and the remains of cigarette smoke from the night before. The house held its breath. Lying there, in sheets that smell of memories, the leather and aftershave smell with the damp air and cleaving to everything in this room. His room.
James has left his space this way ever since, the mess of records that he insists have some sort of order, utter chaos to anyone else. Guitars leaned against the wall, scattered papers on the desk. Hard to tell, really. A few half empty beer bottles remained on the nightstand, one of them with the label peeling off where his fingers had unconsciously picked at it.
I sit up and blink away fogginess in my head. My body is heavy, I'm trying to move underwater. Really, I don't want to get up. I want to be wrapped in the warmth of this room, in the memories that lean against me from every corner. But I know I cannot stay here forever. The guys will be up soon, and we'll all gather in the kitchen, making laugh, eat whatever we can find, making plans for the day. It's 1987, and life moves fast. Even if I don't feel like keeping up.
Lately, James has been different. Quieter. Or maybe I'm just noticing things that were always there. The way he sometimes stares off into space, his fingers tapping out rhythms for his own ears. The way he lingers a little too long in doorways, expecting something or someone to appear. He doesn't talk about it, though. None of us do. We just keep going, acting like everything is okay.
Maybe he's downstairs already, fiddling with his guitar, a low hum of his voice humming along to whatever song's in his head. I smile at the thought. James Hetfield. My roommate, my best friend, and sometimes... I don't know what. Something more, maybe. Or something less. It's hard to define what we are.
I drag myself out of his bed and into my jeans,the necklace around my neck is getting heavier with the days. The little locket inside, the one I never take off, a picture of him. I rarely open it. I don't have to. I can pull up his face on the screen in my head anytime. Those diamond cut blue eyes, that wonky smile capable of illuminating the whole damn room.
I trudge softly down the stairs, trying not to make any noise. I used to joke this place was haunted, maybe the ghosts of musicians still waited here, looking for their chance at popularity. James would laugh at me for it, calling me ridiculous, but sometimes. Sometimes, I truly wish it were. And maybe it is.
But it's still an empty kitchen. No James, no one else. Just the light patter of rain, the ticking of the clock on the wall. My face droops immediately. He's probably out in the garage, messing with his guitar, or he went for a drive. That's what he sometimes does when his head needs clearing. I'm fine. I'll see him later.
I sit at the table, running my fingers over the grain of the wood in an absent circle. The house is too quiet. Too still. I shut my eyes and try to recall the last conversation we had, but it's all hazy, reaching for smoke. My mind drifts and for one moment, I might have sworn I heard him, his voice calling my name up the hallway. I snap my eyes open and my heart's racing. But there's nobody.
Just the house. Just me.
I shake my head, feeling pathetic. Need to stop doing this, stop waiting for things that aren't there. I'm not some little girl anymore.
But still… I was hoping the house was haunted.
I lie later on his bed, gazing up at the ceiling, the Scorpions poster on his ceiling boring an image into my skull. The rain has calmed. I have no idea why I am in here. I should do anything else, do something else. Instead, I draw his pillow closer to me, inhaling into the now-faint scent of him that still clings to the fabric. I know if i keep breathing it in, it'll only smell like me. And that's no good.
I simply wish that he would just come back now.
I heard the opening of the door behind me, and my heart leaps half a second, hoping it is him, but it isn't. It's Cliff.
He steps inside, his eyes soft as they land on me, knowing exactly what's going on. That's always been him, kind and patient. He doesn't say anything, not for a minute or so, just walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress.
And then I don't know why, but I just start crying. It's out of nowhere, tears spilling down my cheeks before I can even attempt to stop them. They soak into James' pillow like a hello. It's kind of really embarrassing, actually. I'm not a crier. But here I am, sobbing into James's pillow like some sort of broken thing, and I have no idea why.
Cliff says nothing more, but reaches out and gently brushes my hair from off my face, and I imagine his touch is James'.
"He loved you, you know," Cliff says in a voice soft enough that it caresses my slow heart.
My body freezes up. "What?
"James," he says, his fingers still moving through my hair, soothing me like I was a little girl. "He was crazy about you."   I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "You don't have to say that, Cliff. I know you're just trying to make me feel better."
But he doesn't laugh. He doesn't even smile. He just looks at me with those sad eyes of his, chestnut hair falling slightly in his eyes.
"He was gonna tell you," Cliff whispers. "After the tour. He had this big, stupid plan. He wanted to take you out to dinner, make it all special, you know? He was nervous as hell about it, too."
Why is Cliff saying this? Why now?
Again, Cliff says, "He never had the chance." Cliff's voice is no louder than a murmur. "But he loved you. Really did."
I wrap myself into a tight, clinging ball with his pillow. "But he's still here," I choke. "James is… he's still here, Cliff. He's just… he's just out somewhere, right?"
There's such a long pause, when Cliff speaks again, his voice is full with a sadness that I don't want to recognize. But I do.
"He's gone, sweetheart."
I shake my head wildly, eyes refusing to believe what I already know is true. "No. No, he's not. He's coming back. He's just—"
"He passed, remember? Last year. The bus."
I stop breathing as the room tilts, heavy with fog, pushing against my skin, promising to smother me. I remember, yet I don't want to. I don't want to think about that night, the phone call, a feeling of my love slipping away.
"I saw him," I whisper, my voice shaking. "I swear, Cliff, I saw him. He was right here."
Cliff doesn't argue, won't try to reason with me. He just pulls me into his arms, holding me as I break apart. He strokes my hair, whispering soft words that I can't quite make out, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that James is gone. He's been gone for a year, and I've been living in this house, waiting for a ghost that will never come home.
Cliff lays me back down, tucks James’ blankets around me as if I am some sort of child. He doesn't leave, though. He stays beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder.
"He really did love you," Cliff says again, much softer this time. "More than you know."
The house isn't haunted. At least, it isn't haunted the way I wish it was.
I still wear you in my locket, James. I always will.
And maybe someday I'll find you again.
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fakeboycorrection · 2 days
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Fakeboy story time! This one's a long one, so I'm sure some of you dumber, hornier fakeboys will have to read it in multiple sittings.
Kai had always known that they were nonbinary, ever since they were young. People had always tried putting them in dresses, or getting them into makeup, but it had never felt right. Though, to be fair, typical masculine things had never felt right either. They just didn't feel like they were drawn towards either of those. And though they didn't have a word for it for the longest time, when they first heard about enby people, they knew that's where they belonged.
Going off to college was great for them. Kai had become part of a community of plenty of other trans people, learning about the culture and understanding that gender wasn't some binary thing based on genitals, but something on a spectrum that couldn't be encapsulated with just the simple terms that they had learned growing up. As Kai educated themselves, they grew more and more into a leadership role. Eventually, they even became the president of a group on campus dedicated to spreading the trans rights movement, focused on educating people and allowing themselves to liberate themselves from the restrictions of their genders, just like Kai had been, years ago. They spoke at events, handed out pamphlets, and spent long nights staying up with their trans friends, being a shoulder to cry on as they would start their journey into transitioning.
Of course, Kai also got up to some fun activities on their own, outside of these movements. As a young, sexually liberated enby, they were always looking for some ways to have fun with others and in private. Though they considered themselves a lesbian, and had plenty nice encounters with girls on campus, they had a lot more fun spending some late nights in their dorm room, masturbating to porn online. Some of it was more tame, some of it was more kinky, but it was always uplifting to women and enbies, showing the ways that their bodies could be used to empower themselves, sharing pleasure with the world. Kai loved it, getting deeper and deeper down these rabbit holes, until one day discovering a forum of people that used remotely controlled toys to connect with others around the world, allowing them to control vibrators and choose when to give pleasure out. Kai rushed off to the store, getting one, and logging back into the forum for some fun. They had a lot of fun with girls around the world, even some from different countries, until one day having an interesting encounter with an anonymous account from the site.
"Hey, you interested in some fun?" Was the message they'd received. Kai looked at the account it came from, but it was mostly blank, just saying that it was from a man who was about their age.
"Hi, sorry, I'm usually only into girls and enbies. Hope you have fun with someone else!" They replied, trying to let him down easy. They were about to set their phone down when they got another message.
"Haha, really? I mean, it all happens through a vibrator, and my account doesn't even have a face on it. You could pretend I'm anyone." Kai considered it for a moment. They were really horny after all, and they hadn't gotten any other requests. They decided to indulge, sticking their vibrator into their pants until it was positioned snuggly on their clit.
"Fine, let's get this going, oh mystery man." They smirked slightly, knowing that it would be fun regardless.
"See, there's a good toy." He replied. Kai felt the vibrator turn on, feeling like it was at max strength, causing an involuntary gasp to come out of their mouth. After taking a moment to collect themselves, they replied.
"Wow, going full force off the bat? Don't you know how to properly tease an enby?"
"Oh I know how to. Just giving you a taste of it, so you'll know what you're missing when I do this." And suddenly, the vibrations disappeared completely.
"Hey hey hey! I didn't mean take it away completely!" Kai sent quickly, wanting the pleasure back immediately.
"Then I guess you shouldn't have been so bratty. Apologize, and you can have it back." Kai rolled his eyes and sent a message back.
"Ugh, fine. I'm sorry." Kai waited for a second, but nothing happened. They checked their phone.
"Now, is that any way to apologize to the guy controlling your cunt? Have some manners." They read. Kai wanted to roll their eyes again, but actually felt something stirring inside them at reading that. They decided to take it seriously.
"Okay, I'm really sorry sir. It won't happen again." They replied. Immediately, the vibrator flipped back on, but only to about half strength. It wasn't perfect, but Kai wasn't going to risk losing it again by talking back.
"There we go, that's better. You look so cute in your profile pic. You shouldn't put such a bratty scowl on it." Kai shuddered with a bit more pleasure. They'd forgotten they'd posted a pic of themselves on there. Whoever this man was, he could see exactly what the toy he was playing with looked like.
"Oh come on, you get to see me, but I don't get to see you?" Kai responded, relishing the small amount of pleasure in their pussy. After a few moments a new message popped up, not text, but a picture of the mystery man's cock.
"You like what you see? I might not post my face on here, but I'd argue this is better." Kai stared at the pic for a moment in shock. It was a sizable cock, bigger than any of the toys they'd used in the past. Right after he sent the pic, the man turned the vibrator up, sending more pleasure into Kai's hole.
"Hey! That's not fair, asking if I like something, then turning the vibe up. Now I basically have to say yes..." Kai moaned slightly again. Though they'd only ever been fucked with straps before, they had to admit, the cock did look enticing.
"The only part of that message I choose to acknowledge is the "Yes". But I think we both already knew that was the answer, didn't we? :)" Kai chuckled to themselves. This guy was smug, but he wasn't wrong. This was already the most turned on they'd been while using this site, and the night had barely started.
"Yeah, you're right, okay... sir? Please, give me some more pleasure. I'll even say more nice things for you, like "sir". Kai responded, partially doing it to get more pleasure, but partially because it felt so good to be submissive. They hadn't talked to someone with this level of dominance in quite a while.
"Mmm, I do like hearing the title, but I think there's some other things you can say to earn more vibrations. Some more fun things... Some things you might not want to say..." Kai looked at their phone with a hint of apprehension, but upon feeling the vibrations drop once more, they responded.
"Like what, sir?" They replied quickly, hoping to get the vibrator turned back up as soon as possible.
"Admit that I turn you on more than any girl ever has." He replied.
Kai stared at their phone for a moment. This guy wasn't serious, right? They responded.
"Oh come on. That's not even true, I've been with plenty of girls. You're good, but you're not better than literally all of them." After sending this, the vibrations in Kai's hole disappeared completely. They frantically messaged again.
"Wait wait wait, turn it back up!"
"Not until I hear what I want to hear." He responded. Kai looked down at their leaking, needy hole, then looked back at their keyboard before typing out the next message.
"Alright, fine. You're... better than any girl I've been with... I'll say it, even if I don't believe it." Kai immediately felt the vibrator turn back up to full power, sending another involuntary moan out of their mouth.
"There we go, that wasn't so hard, now was it? And don't worry, by the end of this, that statement will be true. Trust me." Kai was starting to get annoyed at this guy's smug attitude, but had to admit. It felt a little good to say such dirty things. They'd always been attracted to people with vaginas, so saying that a man was better than them felt like something of a taboo. A good taboo. After a minute or so of relishing in the pleasure, Kai felt the vibrator slowly starting to decrease in power. They messaged back once more.
"Wait! Why are you turning it down??"
"You earned a minute for saying that. You earn more if you say more. That seems fair, doesn't it." Kai didn't feel like holding back anymore.
"Very fair, yes sir! Just give me more..."
"There we go, much better. I'll tell you what. I'll give you five minutes if you admit that you feel like more of a girl than a man."
Kai looked at this message, confused. They replied quickly, trying to get through this before the vibrator turned off completely.
"What do you mean? I'm an enby. I'm not a man or a girl."
"Yeah, but if you had to pick one, you'd say you're closer to a girl, wouldn't you?" Kai stared at this, thinking about it for a moment. Though they were an enby, they had to admit, they were more feminine than anything. This was just an admittance of that, more than anything.
"Fine, I admit. I'm closer to a girl than a man." Kai responded, feeling another wave of pleasure hit them as the vibrator turned back on. For some reason, this wave felt even more intense than the last.
"See, you're so easy to convince. And you have to say, it feels good to admit that you're a girl, doesn't it?" He replied.
"Hey, I didn't say that. I said I'm closer to a girl than a man. I'm still nonbinary." Kai replied. Though, reading "You're a girl" did send a strange twinge down their body.
"Sure, sure. I'm sure you're not thinking about how you're secretly just a slutty girl. I'm sure it doesn't turn you on to think about admitting that to me, a man, someone you're not even supposed to be turned on by in the first place." Reading that, Kai moaned again. They didn't even fully understand their own feelings at this point, yet it seemed like this man was speaking their thoughts before they could even think them.
"Fuck, how did you know what I was thinking? Also, still not fair! I'm only turned on by that stuff because you're pleasuring my hole when I was thinking about it." Kai responded, denying the allegations as best as possible.
"Maybe, but why were you thinking those things in the first place? Maybe those thoughts are more true than you realize..." Kai read this, getting even more turned on, feeling like they were getting closer and closer to an orgasm. At this point, they didn't care if it was true or not, they just needed to get pushed over that edge.
"Fine, maybe you're right, just please make me cum sir! I'll be a good little enby, or a good girl, just for tonight if you let me!" They responded, knowing that they were closing in on the end of their five minutes.
"Mmm, I don't know about that..." He responded. Kai felt a wave of despair as the pleasure started to fade from their pussy. "But I'll tell you what. If you can think of the most vile, humiliating, pathetic thing that you can admit to me, and promise me that you'll consider actually believing it, I'll let you cum..."
Kai was desperate at this point, so they gave in almost immediately. "I'm a girl. I'm a girl for you and I want to serve your wishes, sir!"
"That's not nearly enough..." He responded. Kai felt the pleasure disappearing even more. They continued, getting more desperate as the orgasm started to seem unreachable.
"Okay, um... I'll never be a man, or an enby! I'll always be a girl! A straight girl a cis girl, who thinks men like you are superior!" Kai held out hope, but the pleasure continued to disappear.
"Not quite enough... I need even more than that, pretty girl..." Kai was on the verge of tears at this point, desperate to cum. So desperate, that she decided to give in, and let out her deepest, darkest, most real thoughts and fears.
"I'll never be an enby because it's all bullshit! None of us are nonbinary, we're all just attention seeking sluts that need men like you to fuck us! Please sir, I'm just a desperate, slutty girl that needs your cock in me to fix me. Please please cum in me so I can cum, knowing that I'm serving my true purpose as girl, please a cis, straight man's cock! That's all that any of us trans whores want!" Right as she sent it, Kai felt a warm wave of pleasure flow into her cunt. Strangely enough, the pleasure hit her before the vibrator even turned on, though it did turn back on in the end, launching her over the edge and giving her the best orgasm of her life. She came, moaning like a girl, barely able to see as the next message came into her phone. She sat there for minutes, trying to get over the massive shocks of pleasure that kept flowing through her body. Eventually, she managed to regain her composure, panting with her tongue out, and picked up her phone. The next message she read made her heart skip a beat, and the needy, aching feeling in her cunt return.
"Good girl, cumming for me. Your moans sounded beautiful, but you're being a bit loud. I'm in the room above you. Come on up and see how a real man treats a girl, little Miss. "Trans Rights Club" President.
She'd never felt fear like she did at that moment. And she had never felt as horny as she did, walking to the stairs, and heading up into his room.
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abyssal-ilk · 8 hours
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A thing that people always forget when chastising vivienne for being so apathetic to cole is the fact that she is a circle mage. People whom are forced to learn that you should not trust demons nor spirits or else they’ll put you down AS A RITE OF PASSAGE. Think back to what Mouse says in DAO. “Keep your wits about you, mage; true challenges never end.” She knows that for the rest of her life, demons will tempt her and try to possess her. She has seen mages turn into abominations, knows how they get them- of course she will support templars who have the skills to subdue them. And now to have a spirit scurrying around without supervision what is the last bastion against a Tevinter Sidereal… I too would be worried as hell if i were a circle mage.
EXACTLY!
not only is vivienne a circle mage, but there are also a few other factors that play into it that make cole so untrustworthy to her. vivienne underwent her harrowing when she was young– in fact, she was the youngest mage to have ever gone through a harrowing and survived it. we don't get to learn much about what she went through during her harrowing, but we DO have this banter between her and cole:
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harrowings on their own are already traumatic enough, and with the added insistence from the circles that all spirits and demons are dangerous (which we see vivienne repeat above, "all it can do is harm."), it makes complete sense on why vivienne would be so put-off by cole! especially given how kind he is! she thinks that kindness is a ploy, and why wouldn't she if her harrowing was anything like the warden's in DAO?
and then that's not even acknowledging the fact that cole isn't just ANY spirit. he's the ghost of the spire. he's killed mages before and admits to doing so. and even though he was wrong to do so and realizes that what he did was wrong, that does not mean that vivienne automatically has to suddenly be okay with what cole did. of course vivienne takes cole being the ghost of the spire harder than everyone else in the inner circle. she is the only circle mage there. it is entirely plausible that she sees cole as a threat and views herself as being the person most able to recognize that threat because of what she was taught. it's why she struggles so much to empathize with cole on any level.
ive already talked about this briefly on another post, but cole is also fairly antagonistic to vivienne as well. it's easy to look at their dynamic and think that, well, cole is just trying to help vivienne but he... isn't? his version of helping her is prying into her thoughts without permission and continuing to do so even after she has shown clear discomfort with it.
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cole drags her worst memories and thoughts out publicly in front of not just vivienne, but the rest of the party and anyone else who may happen to be standing near them. it's DANGEROUS, what he does, because vivienne is a player of the game. her position at court is a precarious one, and to have someone like cole who can just pick into her brain whenever he wants with no repercussions? it's scary! it's scary because vivienne has no defense against it, especially if the player supports cole and downplays the harm he does. and what can vivienne do about it? she's an ally of the inquisitor, and that makes her cole's ally by proxy. telling cole to stop doesn't work, insulting him doesn't work, trying to get the inquisitor to intervine doesn't work– nothing seems to deter cole.
which is why THIS piece of dialogue is so important to me:
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despite everything i've said above, vivienne still cannot help but care about cole. no matter how dangerous he is, no matter what she was raised to believe, she still cares about him and worries for him. their dynamic is SO interesting to me and i really wish people dug into it a bit more rather than just dismiss it as vivienne being needlessly cruel to cole. it's so much more than that.
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chrissv4mp · 4 hours
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YOU REALLY, REALLY KNOW ME
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i never liked my crooked teeth.
you tell me their your favorite thing... anything else?...
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billie couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from you, and it went the same way for yourself. your eyes trained on hers, lips only inches away from her own, plump, red ones, bodies so close together it was like you two were a whole.
"what's wrong?" she speaks softly, her voice so quiet, almost like if she spoke even a little louder, the ceiling would cave in and trap you together. not that you would mind being stuck with her for an eternity.
the frown on your face isn't exactly unnoticeable, but it definitely wouldn't be noticed by anyone who had taken a quick glance at you. but, billie... she always knew whenever you were feeling down, "nothin'."
"then why do y'keep biting your lip, huh?"
fuck. she knew those little details. she knew every little detail of your life and your personality and almost everything about you. your eyes wander, hesitantly moving away from her face and looking down at the bed sheets.
they were still wrinkled from your... previous activities. it was a long night, and when you came home, billie saw those tired eyes of yours. she wanted nothing more than to take care of you, and she wouldn't hesitate to take you again if you needed it.
"jus'..." you sigh quietly, harshly biting down on your lip again. billie quickly moved a hand to cup your face, her thumb running along your bottom lip to tug it from between your teeth, "no more, mama, ts' gonna start to bleed."
her eyes were still focused on yours, her hand moving your head up to look directly into her eyes. you were safe with her, and she wanted you to know that. always.
your voice is shaky as you speak, your hand moving to her free one and interfacing your fingers. they fit perfectly in one another's, almost like you were made for her. only her, "marks—the stretch marks.. on my thighs."
"don't feel pretty," you confess, "wanna be pretty f'you, bills. you're so pretty, i—" billie quickly shushes you with a kiss. after a full 30 seconds, she pulls away, the both of you almost completely out of breath. your faces are flushed, saliva connecting your lips.
her eyes dart from one of your eyes to the other, then down to your lips and repeating the action over and over until she finds the words, "you are so unbelievably pretty, Y/N, don't ever tell yourself you aren't." she whispers, squeezing your hand softly in reassurance.
before you can reply, she pushes you off her lap, switching your positions so that you were laying on your back and she was in between your thighs, "these—" kiss, "—just—" kiss, "—make you—" kiss, "—even—" kiss, "—prettier.—" kiss.
she kisses every one of the marks she can reach, her thumbs rubbing circles on your waist. her eyes stay on yours, watching as your lips curve into a smile and tears form in your eyes.
"think you need a 'lil reminder, ts' that right?"
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@mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @xoluvx @hrtsdollie
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reyreadersblog · 2 days
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ALRIGHT Y'ALL MADE ME DO IT!!!
My unpopular tig/tgg opinions!!
FIRST!
These are MY opinions and i'm allowed to have my own thoughts on certian things, just as you are, okay..? Just wanna..get this out of way, i know everyone is respectful in this fandombut still.
1. this is something that should NOT be an upopular opinion. AVERY IS THE MAIN CHARACTER FOR A REASON. okay? She is a girlboss, and she needs more appretiation, cus literally search up tig on tt rn. Everybody and their cat named Stewie is talking about Grayson and Jameson? WHAT ABOUT MY MG AVERY? And if you see any post about her, it's probably a hate vid about how Avery should've kept the money...SHUT UP. Read what she said carefully..."no one deserves that kind of power.." and then think about it deeply.
2. I DO NOT WANT TIG TO TURN INTO A TV SERIES (or even a movie). i can't name all the reasons 'cus then the the list would be endless. First of all, i know, I JUST KNOW, they'll choose the worst cast ever. And even if they find the most accurate cast for the Hawthorne brother i will still be dissapointed, because the images of them i have in my head...THEY'LL NEVER TOP EM. second of all, they will leave out important moments, just as simple as it sounds, and trust me they will, just like they do with most of the live adaptations of books. Third of all, SHIP WARS!!! I phisically can't with ship war, like I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF EM IN THE PAST WHEN THE BOOKS WERE STILL COMING OUT. And just the thought of Averygrayson shipper saying "yeah Avery and jameson were endgame in the books but they might change it in the movie..." GIVES ME NIGHTMARES. and overall, not everything needs a live adaptation yk? sometimes things just have to stay the way they are.
3. ...this is a bit contrevertial.and i don't want to sound like a hater since i've said this a multiple times before but Rohan's pov was my least favourite in the grandest games. Purely bcs whatever Savannah and Rohan had going on...don't get me wrong, i like Savannah (even tho she did and said some fucked up things) and Rohan, SEPERATLY. But them being together...idk man, they were too..."booktokish" for my liking, yk? and i do love banter and teasing, but they were like basic "i like you but i like winning more" "couple". Not to mention they were so random...like where did they come from? I remember when we first saw Sav and Rohan having the same symbols on their cards i was very excited, i expected a different dynamic between them...PLUS THE WHOLE GAME THEY JUST WANTED TO FUCK💀
4. Hating Alisa Ortega and loving Grayson Hawthorne is CRAZYYY, and i'm saying this bcs they're pretty similar in different ways. And the thing is people are mad at Alisa for "saying mean words to Libby" (she was literally doing her job, you would understand if you were at her place) MEANWHILE GRAYSON LITERALLY THREATENED A HEIRESS! (sayin this as a Gray stan) *sigh* y'all are something else🤦🏻‍♀️.
5. Ohh...this one is risky...BUT CAN Y'ALL STOP ACTING LIKE JAMESON IS BLAMELESS?? all i see is Grayson slander, AND I UNDERSTAND, he fucked up, but saying "Jameson was so much better than Grayson" is a lie, at least for me. (He was better for Avery tho) he fs made mistakes that fandoms chooses to ignore. Like lets not act like treating Avery like a toy wasn't wrong. Lets not act like him blaming Grayson for everything wasn't wrong. Let's not act like him reminding Grayson of Emily's death wasn't wrong. And i know that later on both him and Grayson had a great character development, but still, i've never seen anyone talk about this.
6. This isn't about tig. But LIKING JLBS WORK AND BEING HER FAN DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE GLAZING HER💀 (talking about an argument i had a while ago...) like is it so hard for your brain to understand that it's called having an opinion. Idc if it's JLB or any other author, okay? Like i've read almost every Jlb's books and i love them, AND i also publicly talk about how much iblove her work, does that mean i'm glazing her? UHM NO WTF💀.
7. LET. PEOPLE. HAVE. PREFRENCE. (I'm talking about ships btw) . Someone prefers LyraGray over Averyjameson, and that's okay. Someone loves Averyjameson the most, and that's also okay, someone likes Libbynash more then Xandermax, AND THAT IS ALSO OKAY.
I'll probably do part 2, i have more to say i'm just really tired rn.
Also it's not proof read so sorry if there are many mistakes.
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v-h-lupin · 3 days
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Maurauders Era Characters if they were Demigods (with explanations)
ive been listening to Epic and rereading my harry potter writing (really trying to work on my fanfic, im just stretched kinda thin)
edit: here is pt. 2
anyway
this is pt. 1 because I will be doing more, and golden trio era characters too
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Remus Lupin:
This boy is the most Son of Athena kid i have ever seen in my entire life look at him He is so smart in so many different ways I just he's so quick witted and brave, and he was so ready to throw himself into battle. strategizing to use his unique attributes even when his superiors (who had political leanings) told him otherwise. But his intellect doesn't mean he has a lack of empathy he's also really crafty but not in the "hot gluing pieces of felt in the basement" type of crafty he's just got such a good mind
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James Potter:
Ok ok so hear me out Hermes. Hermes Hermes Hermes. Hermes is the god of so many things-- Jack of all trades, really, and James is just so damn good at everything he does. He's also incredibly fast on a broom. He makes friends wherever he goes (pretty fitting if your father is the god of travellers) and is mischevious without dipping into the villain area (most of the time).
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Sirius Black:
Aphrodite. Hands down. Did not have to think when I said this. Everyone at school is fully aware that he is attractive and he can charm almost anyone. he is very charismatic. He can speak French and I BELIEVE Italian... ok it just... makes sense to me... (btw regulus will be in pt. 2)
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Peter Pettigrew:
Also Hermes. Let me explain-- Beyond the fact that it would justify him feeling closer to James, we can use the other side of the Hermes coin for this. Hermes is the god of pretty much anything you encounter on the road. Hermes is not evil or anything-- but he does technically protect thieves and liars. Peter and James have parallels that make me believe both of them would be sons of Hermes, but their hearts were different.
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Lily Evans:
This one was hard. I was thinking Demeter- then Apollo- then Athena- Hestia isnt an option but like, it might fit if it was-- I'm gonna say Athena because while YES, she does learn healing magic, she's also just incredibly bright in general. She and Remus are both brainchildren ok She's also very witty in her comebacks and stubborn-- im referring to her behavior in general, not just when it comes to james. For example, even though Petunia hated her, she still was so determined to have a good relationship with her sister.
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Mary MacDonald:
OO, oo, i want to say Aphrodite, but then I remember that sirius is aphrodite and that would be WEIRD but if sirius was anyone elses kid, mary would be an aphrodite kid, i just, like? look at her. she celebrates her femininity, she's so confident in herself, i love her
other than aphrodite, I might say... Hebe. Seems like a deep reach, but she's the goddess of youth.
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Marlene McKinnon:
APOLLO. Apollo. Apollo. Marlene has always wanted to be a healer. She's also a great flyer. I don't know what else to say about it but like- Apollo? yes, yes
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suzannahnatters · 2 days
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I'm so obsessed with how SOFT Adar is to Galadriel, not just in ep6, but in 4 and 5 too. Like, when she captured him for interrogation, she tied him up, held a knife to his throat, threatened his children, and vowed to kill him. When he captured her for interrogation? He addressed her in Quenya by the name her husband gave her. He kept her safe from his men. He offered her roast rabbit and fresh berries. He promised her an alliance. When he DID chain her up, we even got some PRIDE AND PREJUDICE hand flex level tenderness. Adar didn't have to do any of that. He's an Uruk, for heaven's sake. He could have tortured her into giving him what he wanted.
Instead he chose to be soft. Why? Well, the Doylist explanation is that the writers of this show fully understand their assignment, to be kind and merciful and respectiful to their characters: if Adar is to get what he wants, it must be softly, not harshly. Bad things happen in the Tolkienverse, but we don't get dragged through it in explicit detail.
But the only Watsonian explanation my brain will tolerate right now is that he misses the flowers of Beleriand because he first met this woman dancing among them, and when they first joined hands they fell out of time while the stars counted out the centuries above them. And he's not that person anymore. He doesn't WANT to be that person anymore. He's chosen his new life and his new children and his new enemies.
But he still knows her better than anyone else ever could. More than ever now that Sauron has wormed his way into both their minds. And he can't resist the victory of showing her how much more alike they are than she's willing to accept.
A friend says that "there's tension, but it's not romantic tension". I agree that this doesn't HAVE to be romantic tension - but it is precisely what you would see if you WERE creating romantic tension. Because the fun of every enemies to lovers situation is this precise thing: a person who has every reason to want to hurt you instead chooses to show you tenderness, and that tenderness results in a trust far deeper than any hostility.
I don't know where this is going. After all, the tenderness in ep5 doesn't result in greater trust - it results in a betrayal, as Adar shows that his primary motivation was not an alliance, but information. Maybe he really did just want to show the elf that he was also a person, and not just a monster, and that's all there is to it. OR MAYBE HE'S REALLY CELEBORN. Because this Softness (TM) is exactly how I would be writing this season if he was.
I cannot WAIT to see where this is going.
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ivegotyourbackbuddie · 15 hours
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Ao3 Link because this one is a bit long <3
Buck ducks his head on his way into the station, hoping that it's one of those days where everyone else is too caught up in their own stuff to notice that he’s kind of spiraling.
It's not that he wants everyone to be going through stuff. And really, thinking that might bring it into existence, and the 118 already feels cursed enough as is. So, Buck really doesn't want anyone to be dealing with emotional baggage on the same level as what he's dealing with but-
"You alright?" Bobby asks as he turns off the stove, pulling everyone's attention toward Buck which is exactly what he doesn't need right now.
"Fine. Just thinking," Buck replies easily, ignoring the way Eddie is leveling him with an I know you're lying because you're a worse liar than Christopher look.
Before Eddie can say anything, Chimney points a piece of bacon at him and chimes in, "Uh oh. That's dangerous."
"What's more dangerous are the thoughts he isn't willing to share with the class," Hen says, eyebrows raised in an almost accusatory way. "So, what aren't you telling us?"
Buck shakes his head with a frown. "Nothing," he states, taking a place at the table and shoveling food on his plate, hoping it's the end of this conversation.
Eddie leans over and lowers his voice to ask, "You're not having nightmares again, are you?"
"No," Buck replies honestly, although after the events of last night, he just might.
"Maddie hasn't said anything, so it's not family related,'' Chimney very unhelpfully adds.
"Are you and Tommy okay?" Hen asks.
The grimace is entirely involuntary.
"Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner!" Chimney says with a laugh which dies down quickly when Bobby gives him a look.
"What happened?" Hen questions softly.
Bobby takes the opportunity to clear his throat. "Buck, you don't have to answer any of their questions if you don't want to, after all, we are all at work."
"When has that stopped anyone before?" Chimney asks, getting a swift kick in the shin by Hen in response.
The tiniest bit of relief floods his system when everyone stops pressing and moves on. Well, besides the occasional lingering glance of curiosity, they mostly move on. But the smallest part of Buck wishes they would press on because he has to tell someone, and while they are some of the nosiest people he's ever met, they're also family.
"I called Tommy the wrong name last night!" Buck blurts out.
Everyone stops mid-conversation to look at him.
"I called him the wrong name... and he left."
The amusement on Hen's face slips right off as she puts a hand over Buck's. "Oh, Buck."
Eddie swallows his food audibly before gently asking, "Left as in..."
Buck glances his way, taking in the soft sympathy in Eddie's eyes. "Left the apartment with a quick goodbye saying he needed time to think about things, and he hasn't talked to me since. It's been twelve hours."
"That's not too bad. What we really need to know is what name you called him. Then we can figure out the damage. And hey, I've had many girls call me the wrong name, and the longest I waited was maybe a day before speaking to them again," Chimney says.
"I don't think you're the best person to be giving advice about this," Bobby says with his ever-present small smile.
"Hey, I'm married now! I think I'm doing pretty great."
Bobby turns his attention back to Buck. "Hey, kid. We've all been there, okay? You're still in the early stages of this relationship, and it's natural to revert to old tendencies - including calling someone the wrong name. Hell, I've called Athena my first wife's name before; there's nothing to be ashamed of."
Buck shakes his head and stares down at the table. "But it was... really bad this time."
"This time?" Ravi asks in disbelief, only to be ignored as Buck continues.
"He didn't even look mad. He just looked... disappointed. And I thought it was something we could laugh off because really it was just a slip of the tongue! I mean, I didn't mean to call him 'Bobby!'"
An eerie silence settles in the station as everyone takes in what was said.
Buck tries to defend himself with a quick, "Uh-" But is immediately cut off by the bell going off.
On the way to the scene, everyone glances at Buck who finally says, "Okay, so Tommy has a daddy kink."
"Yeah, I could've gone my whole life without knowing that," Chimney sighs.
"And!" Buck continues, "Daddy and Bobby are... kind of similar sounding, you know? Daddy... Bobby..."
"If you say 'daddy' one more time, I will revoke Uncle Buck privileges," Chimney groans.
Hen shrugs and says, "There's nothing wrong with a daddy kink as long as everyone is consenting. Now a Bobby kink..."
There's a mixture of laughter from Hen and Chimney, an ay dios from Eddie, a mumbled what is happening from Ravi, and Bobby pointedly tries to ignore the conversation.
"We were in the kitchen and he handed me-!"
"Nope! I do not want to hear about your sex life, Buckaroo!"
Buck frowns at Chimney for a moment before his eyebrows shoot up in shock. "Oh! No! You all think I- Oh god. No. No." Buck shakes his head seriously and continues, "The kink extends outside of the bedroom. He likes it when I call him that all the time. Like when we're having dinner or when we're making dinner. Which is exactly when it happened last night. See, Bobby and I cook all the time, plus like I said Bobby and Da-"
"Alright, we're one minute out, let's wrap this conversation up please," Bobby says, as the tips of his ears turn red.
"Yes, d- Bobby. Shit," Buck mutters, ignoring the cackling around him. Who knew a minute could last so long?
Luckily, the call isn’t too bad – a car accident with the worst injury being minor airbag burns. They're able to clear the scene quickly - too quickly in Buck's opinion because none of them forget their previous conversation.
On the ride back, it takes less than a minute before Eddie asks, "So, I don't get it. You misspoke, and Tommy just... walked out?"
"If it was during sex... that would definitely be off-putting, but you would think you could just laugh it off even if it killed the mood," Hen thinks aloud, "But what exactly did you say when you called him Bobby?"
Buck shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he recalls the moment. "He just asked me to hand him the garlic powder, and I said 'Yes, Bobby' and immediately started laughing about it because I thought we could just laugh it off. But when I saw he wasn't laughing I apologized because it was an honest mistake, but he said the thing about taking time to figure things out, and he walked out."
"Maybe he didn't want to be compared to Cap because he's ancient," Chim jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
Hen laughs and looks at Bobby. "You have no comeback today?"
"Don't need one if being ancient got me Athena."
There's a series of cooing, awws, and catcalls from everyone as they're quick to tease Bobby who throws a proud smile over his shoulder. Buck tries his hardest to focus on the secondhand love he feels for their relationship but notices how dim it is when compared to his tarnishing relationship. Bobby must notice it because he's quick to say, "Tommy is a good man. He'll come around."
Buck nods, lost in the thought of what if he doesn't? and too distracted by it to conceal his other thought, "Yeah, if he can get over me calling him Eddie in bed then he should be able to get over this, right?"
A weird strangled noise comes out of Chimney's mouth and Hen's jaw visibly drops. But Buck's eyes shoot to Eddie when he realizes what he just confessed.
Eddie just smiles, looking disturbingly undisturbed and a little amused and maybe… proud?
A minute of silence passes by before Ravi of all people asks, "So is no one going to question what was just said?"
Eddie shakes his head and laughs. "Come on, you guys. You said it yourself it happens to everyone. And I've had my fair share of partners who have gotten offended because they thought I said 'Buck' but 'Buck' and 'fuck' sound very similar."
"Just like 'Eddie' and 'baby' sound similar," Buck rushes to say, jaw tight, nodding quickly in agreement.
"Yeah because I'm sure that..." Chimney trails off and throws his hands up. He shoots Hen a look and asks, "Do you want to take this one?"
Hen blows out a deep breath of air and shakes her head. "They don't pay me enough to even begin to unpack this."
Eddie rolls his eyes and bumps his knee against Buck's. "This doesn't change a thing between us, okay?” He lowers his voice to say, “And between you and me, there was definitely one time I clearly said your name, so I guess we're even."
"You realize our radios are all on the same channel, right?" Bobby asks with barely veiled amusement.
Eddie's eyes widen for a second before he straightens up and fixes everyone with a flat look, almost daring them to say anything.
"Does this happen often?" Ravi asks naively.
"With these two idiots?" Hen asks.
"Yes," comes the answer from Chimney, Hen, and Bobby.
Buck crosses his arms, but he can't feel too bad when Eddie shoots him a small private smile.
Soon enough, they get back to the station, and Buck can sense something is off when he's the last to get out of the truck.
"Someone is here to see you, Buck," Bobby says, his smile tighter than usual before he squeezes Buck's arm and walks past him. Buck glances over everyone else's shoulders and finds Tommy standing there, hands in his pockets looking slightly uneasy.
"So, I'm assuming everyone knows," Tommy comments to the group who all look around uncomfortably.
"I think Cap said something about cleaning something upstairs," Ravi says before running off. He's definitely one of their smartest firefighters and probably their least nosy - maybe there's a connection there. Buck doesn't have much time to think about it as everyone rushes past him, giving him looks of encouragement and poorly concealed grimaces.
"Hi, Tommy," Buck says, purposefully saying his name to prove to both of them that he's capable of it.
"Evan," Tommy replies easily. He glances up and sighs, "Let's go somewhere a bit more private, hm?"
Buck turns and finds everyone including Bobby leaning on the railing upstairs, trying to overhear. Buck furrows his eyebrows and frowns at them, shaking his head - although he knows if the roles were reversed, he would definitely be doing the same thing.
He follows Tommy outside and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely.
Tommy nods, the ever-so-slight smile appearing on his face. "I know." He just looks out around them, glancing up at the sky as if trying to determine the impending weather. Buck nearly makes a joke about it, but Tommy beats him to speaking first. "I'm sorry that I walked out like that. I should have said what it was that was bothering me, but I truly needed the time to get my thoughts together."
"And that's okay. You can take all the time you need."
Tommy nods again before finally looking at Buck. "Evan, I think we both know what I'm about to say."
Buck's heart sinks to his stomach as he shakes his head. "No, I really don't."
Tommy glances over his face, frowning for a moment before fixing him with a look of... pity? "You really don't know, do you?"
Buck shakes his head, but he's pretty sure he can tell when someone is breaking up with him. So maybe he should nod, but this feels like something more than that.
Tommy puts his hands in his pockets and takes a step closer to him. "The reason I left like that wasn't because I was angry that you called me Bobby. And really, it was funny as hell given the situation."
"But?" Buck can't help but ask.
"But," Tommy continues, "It was your reaction that startled me." Buck shakes his head, confused as ever. Tommy just sighs. "Evan, you were genuinely startled by it and taken off guard. You immediately laughed it off, and I knew it was nothing. But that made me remember the other time when you said Eddie's name-"
"Which was also an accident!" Buck cuts him off, quickly, almost desperately.
The look Tommy gives Buck nearly makes him want to take the statement back. "Please, Evan. You didn't just laugh it off then, and we both know it. And we always avoided bringing it up because we both knew what happened. From the beginning, I accepted that it was only a matter of time before you figured it out."
"Figured what out?" Buck questions weakly.
Tommy pauses, seemingly debating if he's going to tell him or not. Eventually, he settles on saying, "Both times were an accident. But one was an honest mistake while the other... wasn't."
There's a moment where Buck almost brushes it off and says I don't know what you're talking about. They were both a mistake. But he can't lie to himself or Tommy anymore, and he can see the moment that Tommy registers that, expression dropping to something somber but not surprised.
"You got my attention, Evan. But whose attention was it that you were really after?" Tommy asks, slowly backing away.
"I really liked what we had!" Buck interjects before Tommy can get away.
Tommy gives him a small smile. "I did too. But we both knew it was only a matter of time." He hesitates before walking up to Buck and pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. "Goodbye, Evan. And go talk to Eddie, please."
Buck huffs out a small humorless laugh, experiencing a weird sense of deja vu. He watches as Tommy walks away and doesn't say anything in response because if he fucks up his name one more time, he doesn't think he will ever recover.
As he makes his way back into the station, he notices that most people are upstairs actually minding their own business. But then he catches Eddie watching him carefully and slowly approaches him.
"I take it that went well?" Eddie asks.
Buck chuckles and glances over his shoulder to where Eddie must've had a clear view of their conversation. "Were you watching me?"
Eddie shrugs. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."
He says it so casually yet sincerely that it makes Buck duck his head, trying to fight the blush that threatens to color his cheeks. "Yeah, I'll be okay."
"So, everything is good then?"
Buck pauses and considers what Tommy had said – go talk to Eddie. “Yeah, things are… good.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows slightly, definitely not believing Buck’s weird tone.
Buck sighs and looks down. “Okay. They’re not good. But they’re fine. We broke up- amicably! And… I’m fine.”
Eddie takes a step closer and tilts his head down so Buck looks him in the eye. “Are you sure?”
It takes a moment for Buck to process what Eddie has said- he always gets flustered when he stands this close. He wonders how he pushed it all down before. But he remembers all the pep talks he would give himself to confess things to Eddie before finding out he was seeing someone new, and all the times he was with Christopher and knew that he would do anything for the kid. Anything meaning not dating his dad and fucking up their whole dynamic. And that’s the thing about Buck, he never knows how to keep a good thing. And if Eddie were the one to leave… he thinks it might destroy him.
“I will be fine,” Buck insists and plasters on a smile. “And don’t worry, I won’t stop your and Tommy’s whole bromance thing. So don’t stop hanging out because of me.”
Eddie frowns and puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb resting on his collarbone. “You know you’re my best friend, right? Even if I’m out with Tommy, you can always call me, and I’ll be by your side in a heartbeat.”
“Even if he’s flown you to a different state?” Buck jokes.
“I’ll make him fly back even faster. Maybe even see if he can land where you are,” Eddie answers, smiling wide and sincerely. Buck laughs.
They remain there for a few moments just smiling at each other before the moment is interrupted. “Everything okay?” Bobby asks cautiously.
“It will be,” Buck says with a nod because it will be.
He just hopes it will be sooner rather than later.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Buck’s in Eddie’s kitchen the Thursday after the breakup, staring at the calendar with the dumb circle around the date. Basketball pick-up game with Tommy.
Jealousy still swirls in the pit of Buck’s stomach, and he’s no longer trying to fool himself that he’s jealous of Eddie. He never really has been, and he wonders if Eddie knows that. Because Thursdays are Eddie and Tommy’s night. Even with Christopher’s absence and Buck’s extended stays at Eddie’s, Thursdays are the nights Tommy comes over to distract Eddie from the emptiness for a while.
But tonight, Eddie asked Buck to come over and have dinner with him probably knowing Buck would’ve had the tiniest mini spiral on his own. And Buck wonders what he’s done to deserve such an amazing best friend.
He glances in the pantry, wondering if he should tell Eddie to cancel the pizza order he'll be picking up on his way home in favor of Buck making something that will distract him from his thoughts. Just as Buck picks up his phone, there's a rattling of keys in the front door that makes Buck nearly jump out of his skin as he rounds the corner until he sees Eddie pushing the door open.
"You're early," Buck states as he takes the pizza out of his hands.
"Basketball ended early today," Eddie replies easily.
Buck narrows his eyes at him because he's pretty sure the only way that's true is if basketball ended early only for Eddie. "Right."
"I'm going to shower. Find something for us to watch tonight."
As Eddie goes down the hall, Buck calls after him, "You know you don't have to baby me, right?"
"Who else am I supposed to baby with Chris gone?" Eddie yells back, knowing that Buck can't really argue with him. He only wishes he had something to throw at him in response. He really should've made some popcorn.
While Eddie quickly showers, Buck set the pizza down in the living room and grabs two beers, plates, and napkins before settling on the couch. He opens Netflix and goes to his account, knowing Eddie’s is full of romcom suggestions that he pretends to hate, and picks out a random true crime documentary that fulfills Buck’s thirst for random knowledge and Eddie’s thirst for drama.
Eddie joins him a few minutes later wearing slightly ratty sweatpants and an old t-shirt that clings to his chest and arms just right.
Buck averts his gaze before Eddie can catch him staring, although he thinks he might be too late because he sees Eddie watching him carefully out of the corner of his eye. Buck grabs the remote and presses play in hopes of distracting him, but weirdly enough, Eddie’s gaze never really seems to leave him. At one point, Buck even glances over and gives him a questioning look which Eddie answers with a shake of his head before looking at the TV only to glance back at Buck a few moments later.
When the documentary comes to an end, Buck has absorbed about none of it and he doubts Eddie has either. So instead of talking about it, he grabs their empty plates and heads to the kitchen hearing Eddie trailing behind him with their empty bottles.
“Want another one?” Eddie asks as Buck rinses off their plates.
Buck shakes his head. He has a feeling that Eddie is about to ask him how he’s doing or something, and although another beer won’t really affect his cognitive abilities, Buck rather not take any chances. Once he’s through with putting the plates in the dishwasher, he turns carefully and leans against the counter, locking eyes with Eddie who lingers by the fridge, eyebrows furrowed in thought.
“Is there something you need to talk to me about?” Eddie questions, throwing Buck for a loop.
“Me? I was going to ask you the same thing after you found me more entertaining than that documentary,” Buck jokes.
Eddie frowns and looks away from him. “I did not.”
“Tell me one thing that happened during it.” And Buck really hopes he doesn’t say anything because he wouldn’t be able to confirm it.
Luckily, Eddie stammers for a moment before sighing, “I was staring out of concern after Tommy said…”
Buck's heart drops to his stomach as Eddie trails off. “What did he say?”
Eddie pauses and crosses his arms. “He asked if you had talked to me, and I told him you told me about the breakup, but he acted like there was something more that you needed to say.”
Buck crosses his own arms to try to hide how much his hands are starting to shake.
“Is there more?” Eddie asks.
There’s a moment where Buck almost says, No. I don’t know what he’s talking about. But then he hesitates, wondering if this is it. This is his moment.
Before he knows it, too much time has passed for him to lie and say there’s nothing, so Buck lets out a deep breath and takes a seat before he does something dumb like lock his knees for too long and pass out mid-confession. He looks up at Eddie who begins leaning against the fridge, head framed by one of Chris’s tests with a big A on it.
“I never told you why we broke up,” Buck confesses. “I never even told you the truth about why we started dating.” He pauses and looks down, unable to look at Eddie’s reaction as he continues. “You know, when I met Tommy, I thought he was pretty cool with the whole flying-a-helicopter-through-a-hurricane-to-help-us-without-asking-any-questions thing. I mean. Who does that? So, yeah I asked him for a tour because I wanted to get to know the guy - as a friend.
“And then, I saw him with you,” Buck looks up at Eddie, reimagining the moment. “And you were so happy with him. Happier than I’d seen you in a while, and I knew I should’ve been happy that you got a new friend. But I was devastated. And I felt so guilty about it, especially after the whole basketball thing. I told Maddie about what happened, and she told me all about this best friend she had and how she got jealous when she got a new best friend, and I thought… that was it. As selfish as it was, I wanted to be your one and only best friend.”
Buck pauses, wondering if he should cross this line, but Eddie nods gently in encouragement, brows furrowed as he takes it all in, and Buck continues, “But that wasn’t it. And deep down, I think I knew what was really happening, and I didn’t want to admit it. So, I changed the narrative in my head a bit… I think? Honestly, things aren’t one hundred percent clear to me about how I repressed it - but all of a sudden I was so sure that I was jealous of you. That I was jealous of you hanging out with Tommy. And that’s what I told him before he kissed me, and things just progressed from there. And really, I was happy with our relationship, he was great, and he was… kind of like you. But…” he trails off, words on the tip of his tongue but unwilling to fully let them escape.
“But?” Eddie prompts so gently that Buck almost doesn’t hear it.
In one breath, Buck says, “But he wasn’t you.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up so fast that Buck would find it comedic if it was in any other situation. “So, you’re saying…” Eddie asks, head cocking to the side.
“Calling Tommy ‘Bobby’ was an accident,” Buck states, uncomfortably straightening up in his chair as he prepares himself for what he’s about to say. “Calling him your name was not.” And just to put the final nail in the coffin Buck says, “And it was never his attention I was after. It was yours. I wanted you, but I couldn’t handle the thought of telling you and ruining things between us. I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship or my relationship with Chris, but here I am… doing exactly that.”
Eddie purses his lips and nods for a few long moments before turning to the fridge and opening it up, grabbing two beers, and setting them on the counter.
“I’m good, Eddie.”
Eddie shakes his head. “No, these are both for me.”
Buck feels his entire being shrink in on itself and he wonders if this is the worst rejection he’s ever felt.
“To think,” Eddie clarifies quickly, walking over to place a hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb soothing over his collarbone. “About everything you said - which absolutely won’t ruin our relationship or your relationship with Chris. I promise. I just need a few minutes.”
And that’s all Buck needed to hear to know no matter the result of this conversation, things would be okay.
He stands up quickly, suggesting, “Why don’t I let you sleep on it?”
Eddie gives him a look mid sip that says no before he can actually say anything. “The only way you’re letting me sleep on it is if you stay the night on the couch because I’m not letting you doom spiral in your apartment.”
“I wasn’t going to…” Buck trails off when Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “Okay, yeah, I would’ve spiraled on my own. But let me at least give you some space to think.”
Eddie nods, eyes staring off into space entirely unfocused.
Buck quietly says, “Okay,” under his breath and goes to the living room, closing the kitchen door behind him. He takes a deep breath and settles on the couch, trying to make himself comfortable but failing entirely. He takes out his phone and starts typing a message to Maddie saying this is probably crazy but remember that time you said something like whatever I had to tell Eddie I would tell him in my own time? well, guess who just found out what you meant by that and told their best friend they’re in love with them???
But then he remembers Maddie will tell Chimney and Chimney will tell Hen and Hen will tell Karen and Athena and Athena would tell Bobby and… really he does not want everyone to know he confessed his feelings for Eddie before Eddie has time to process those feelings.
Buck sighs and goes through his apps before going to Google and looking through whatever is trending in searches before going down a rabbit hole that becomes a fairly decent distraction until he thinks Man, I need to send this article to Eddie. Then he gets an achy feeling in his chest.
Quite a few minutes pass before Buck gets a sudden dry feeling in his mouth and he realizes he needs water. This is arguably the worst time to need water when the kitchen is off-limits, but he doesn’t think he could drink straight from Eddie’s bathroom sink faucet without feeling weird about it. Plus, he’s sure Eddie will understand, and he won’t interrupt his moment if he’s quick about it.
So, Buck makes his way to the kitchen, pulling the door open only to find Eddie pushing it open on the other side.
“Hey,” Buck says with a small smile.
“Hey,” Eddie responds, eyes trailing over Buck’s features as if taking them in for the first time.
A few seconds pass before Buck finally asks, “Do you mind if I get some water?”
Eddie shakes his head and steps back out of Buck’s way. But as Buck steps forward, Eddie shakes his head and says, “Wait, I’ll get it for you.”
Buck frowns, trying to interpret Eddie's body language, but he's not sure if he's ever seen him so... nervous or maybe... flustered?
As Eddie walks back to where Buck is lingering in the doorway, his eyes roam over Buck before he snaps himself out of it, shaking his head and handing Buck a glass of water. He turns and rubs his hands over his face. "Dios," he mumbles.
Buck doesn't say anything as he sips on his water, leaning against the doorframe and taking in Eddie's spiral. It's simultaneously comforting and nerve-wracking. After a few moments of silence, Buck finally asks, "You okay?"
Eddie pauses and glances up at him. Buck's almost sure that Eddie is about to lie and say he's fine, but right as he opens his mouth, he closes it and shakes his head. Buck wants to step forward and comfort him, but he hesitates, wondering if the push into Eddie's space will scare him away.
Eddie takes a few steps toward Buck, effectively making Buck feel pinned up against the doorframe. "I have been trying to replace the hole Shannon left in my life since she passed. And I've been finding all these replacements that never felt right. Hell, I found Shannon's doppelganger, and it still wasn't right. And I always thought that she was just irreplaceable. And I was right. No one will ever be Shannon, and no one will be able to replace her role in Christopher's life or what I had with her. And that’s okay. But... while I pursued all these women for the wrong reasons, I never realized that Shannon wasn't the only reason why things never worked out."
Eddie takes a deep breath and takes another step closer to Buck. "There was always this small part of me that knew that no matter what happened with my relationships, it didn't matter because you would always be there - for me and Christopher. But I never really considered that this," Eddie makes a quick motion between him and Buck, "could even be an option. And I feel..." He trails off as he stares at Buck.
"Uncomfortable?" Buck asks slightly cowering in on himself, prepared for the mental hit Eddie's answer will be.
Eddie gives him a flat look, completely shutting down all of Buck's thoughts. "Like an idiot," he states as if it's the most obvious answer. Eddie crosses his arms and takes another step toward him. "I mean, I’ve always known you were attractive. Sometimes I would wonder what it would be like to be one of your girlfriends – especially when they didn’t treat you right. I would imagine what I would do if I was them.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “Hell, I used to call Ana your name often enough that Chris tried to make it an inside joke. At the bachelor party, I really should've known though because as soon as I saw you and Tommy together I felt... awful." Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "For a minute there, I was confused as hell wondering if I was suddenly homophobic."
Buck can't help but burst out laughing.
"It's true!" Eddie laughs and hits Buck on the arm. "I had to reevaluate my feelings when Karen and Hen walked in, and I became very aware that it was just a you and Tommy thing. Then, I thought maybe I was just jealous seeing you close to Tommy or maybe seeing Tommy close to you. But that didn't really make sense because I've been so excited whenever you hit it off with anyone else in my life."
"So, how did you rationalize that thought?" Buck asks, curiosity getting the best of him.
"I got blackout drunk and didn't think about it again." The answer is so immediate that Buck can't help but laugh again. Eddie smiles at him and nudges him on the shoulder. "I should say, I didn't think about it again until about half an hour or so ago"
Buck can't help but look at him a bit bashfully. "Sorry about that."
"Don't be," Eddie says, hand landing on Buck's shoulder. "Don't ever be sorry about telling me how you feel even if it sends me into an identity crisis of sorts."
Buck cocks his head to the side. "Identity crisis meaning...?"
"I might be into guys?" Eddie says more as a question than an answer, but it still makes Buck's heart skip a beat. "I'm not sure," Eddie confesses. He pauses, eyes roaming over Buck before breathing out, "I think I might just be into you."
Buck's brain lags for a few seconds as he processes what he's been dreaming about hearing practically since he met Eddie. After replaying the words in his head a few times, he can't help but ask, "Might?" But before Eddie can answer, Buck leans over far enough to set his glass down and effectively crowd into Eddie's space, "Because I know a way for us to confirm that you're definitely into me."
"Is that so?" Eddie asks, an amused smile gracing his face. The hand on Buck's shoulder slowly yet firmly travels up his shoulder to the back of his neck. "Do you want to show me?"
Buck doesn't trust any words that are about to come out of his mouth, so he lets out a shaky breath and nods, already feeling his cheeks flush and his eyelashes flutter involuntarily.
Eddie raises his eyebrows at him, and they both share a moment of this is really about to happen.
As they move closer together, Buck is sure something is going to interrupt them - like an alarm or an unwanted knock on the door.
But Buck's nose brushes against Eddie's gently, and then there's a breath shared between them before their lips connect gently.
Buck breathes in sharply, heart pounding in his chest, and Eddie responds by weaving his other arm around Buck's waist and pulling him in deeper as if he's trying to make them one whole entity. And who is Buck to deny him his wish?
Buck suddenly remembers that he also has arms which he uses to cup Eddie's face, and then he backs them up until his back is suddenly colliding with Eddie's fridge.
Eddie pulls back momentarily to make sure he's okay, and Buck laughs breathlessly before pulling him back in.
It feels like his first time on the job as a firefighter, the first time he and Eddie truly worked together as a team, and the first time he met Christopher. It feels right.
Buck smiles so wide that he has to pull away with a laugh that sounds almost like a sob, but he doesn't try to stop the happy tears that escape - especially when he sees Eddie in a similar state.
They both stare at each other in disbelief for a moment as they laugh and pull each other into a hug.
"I definitely just like you," Eddie chokes out.
Buck laughs and squeezes Eddie a little tighter.
They linger in the hug for a few moments longer than they usually would, swaying slightly. They slowly pull back to look at each other before resting their foreheads together. “This is real, right?” Buck questions quietly.
He can feel Eddie nod before he says, “It better be.”
Buck laughs softly. He pulls back and notices a faraway look in Eddie’s eyes. “You okay?”
Eddie nods and looks down. “I just wish Chris was here for this. He would probably roll his eyes at me and tell me that you were right in front of me the whole time. Or maybe he’d also feel like an idiot for not realizing that you’re all we need.”
Buck cups Eddie’s face again and redirects his gaze at him. “Hey, we’ll get to know what he thinks soon, okay? In the meantime, don’t you think it’s better that we work out all the kinks of turning what we had into something more before getting Chris involved?”
Eddie nods and laughs softly. “Of course, you already want to fix what we have before it's really begun.”
“I’m the guy who likes to fix things,” Buck says with a smile. “But I don’t think there’s much to fix here, you know?”
“Other than the years of dates, kisses, and declarations of love that I need to make up for,” Eddie comments cheesily.
Buck cocks his head to the side and feels his cheeks turning red. “Wow. Eddie Diaz is a romantic.”
“For you, I sure am,” Eddie flirts.
Buck can almost hear Christopher groaning at the line. “Declarations of love?” Buck recalls out loud.
A pinch forms between Eddie’s brows. “Yeah. You know that I love you.”
Buck frowns and tilts his head. “Really? Because I don’t think we’ve ever truly said that to each other.”
Eddie looks off as if trying to recall every moment they’ve spent together. He frowns and looks at Buck. “Another thing that should’ve made things obvious to us.” Buck laughs as Eddie smiles and grabs his shoulder. “But, just so you’re totally aware, Evan… I love you.”
“Yeah?” Buck asks with a big smile, already pulling Eddie back in for another kiss.
“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles against his lips.
A few moments later, Buck quickly pulls away and says, “I love you, too, by the way.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Buck laughs, “Good. But I’m still going to spend as long as I can proving to you that I love you more than you know. That I love you and Christopher more than you both know.”
Eddie smiles at him so sweetly that Buck almost forgets that he’s allowed to openly stare – more than that… he gets to openly stare at that smile forever. “And we’re going to do the same for you.” There’s a pause before Eddie gets a slight mischievous glint in his eye. “Just try to refrain from calling me ‘Bobby,’ okay?”
Buck sighs and rolls his eyes, pulling away to put his glass in the sink.
There’s a sudden loud chime, and a moment later Eddie gasps.
Buck turns to find Eddie turning the phone to him with a text from Christopher reading I’m ready to come home Dad. Love you.
“Scratch what we said about working out the kinks?” Buck says with a breathless laugh.
Eddie nods and kisses him. “Let’s go get our kid.”
29 notes · View notes
gloveslut · 21 hours
Text
oda died. chuuya has no idea.
babe, i'm back. ... hey, what's going on?
i'm leaving.
you're what? 'samu, did something happen?
stop fucking using that tone. or my name.
what the fuck? can you explain?
explain what?
everything?!
you knew it was only a matter of time. i don't know why you act surprised.
you don't wanna talk about it?
no.
...where to?
none of your business.
but osa- listen, you swore you wouldn't- ever-
i didn't swear shit to mafia.
...fuck no. that's not how you talk to me, you fucking piece of shit.
get off of me.
you're leaving me too! you swore shit to me!
you're nothing more than one of my mistakes.
i know you're lying, fuck, what's gotten into you?
i'm not lying, i can't bear even looking at you now.
but why? dazai, it's unfair to-
oh, and you're always fair to me? i know you're seeing someone else.
...who? tell me who told you that and i'll rip them apart, because it's fucking bullshit.
you're bullshit. all of you. it's your nature. quit playing the victim.
this is ridiculous-
and what are you gonna do about it? beg for me to stay? again? aren't you tired?
you know what? i am. because saying shit like that out of blue is too low, even for you.
i need to pack my things, get out of my-
who's blood is that? the hell is-
mine! it's mine cause i felt uneasy! stop sniffing around, you're not helping!
this doesn't look like- like- you know, there's too much of it, dazai, i don't understand-
you don't need to understand, chuuya, please, stop trying to get closer. you're not special. i'm not gonna take you with me so we can run off into the sunset.
but you can't do it completely on your own, god, are you even here with me?
i'm the one thinking critically right now. i can get killed otherwise, and i'm not gonna be alone.
...you can't just throw it at me like that. can i at least know when it started?
when what started?
well, your falling out? i guess i should've seen it coming with the way you hated introducing me to literally anyone.
i'm not here to fight about it with you.
but you accused me of cheating first thing i came in, idiot!-
i'm not- i was talking about him.
who? ...odasaku? ... fuck, i'm sorry for assuming- whatever, you do realise he's not gonna be here for you forever?
...chuuya, please.
i'm not trying to scare you off and obviously i'm not any better but-
please stop. some... people were here, but they left, and it's not so bad. it's gonna be fine and we're gonna find the best place to hide, i don't care what you think of it, we're gonna be- fine-
honey... i didn't mean to make it worse, it's o-
no it's not! you know nothing about me or my friends, i'm begging you- just- fuck off-
i know it's hard and-
don't touch me! ... god, just go away.
...so you mean it.
yes. i fucking do. now leave. you can get suicidal and stick around this burnt house as long as you want later.
...fuck you. i can't stand you anymore.
oh yeah? news to me.
yeah, cause i fucking loved you! i put everything i had eating me from inside away and stayed with you up untill this point. i made my whole life evolve around you. jesus, i even grew my hair for you!
uh-huh.
and guess what! i never fucking liked it this way. i barely got anything out of whatever we had going on. you didn't even wanna give it a name. cause i'd eat it up. and i did.
right.
fuck, dazai, can't you have a heart for a minute?
yeah no, not around someone who thinks of me as crazy, but thanks.
i don't- what the fuck are you talking about?
all the... nice treatment you gave me was always based purely on the fact that i'm fucking broken and that you should fix me. not only it's incredibly fucked up, you also just can't. you always play god here and there but you don't carry the power of one, not even close.
now, i didn't even-
chuuya, please. i'm asking kindly. i can easily get it over with, but i don't think it'd be either rational or pleasant for you.
...just like this?
yeah. just like this. if you can't accept that you're not needed, then you earn all the hostility. i'm done with all this shit. let us both finally have peace. ... that look doesn't exactly evoke peaceful feelings in me.
i... i have so much to say, to- to ask before- and there's not enough time- huh, it seems like it's never the time. i don't know if i should waste my chance, though.
i mean, if you realise how useless all of our conversations ever were...
...
woah. okay. ... one last question.
if you promise to never talk to me again, go on.
...did you- it's hard not to- ...well, i know someone died. i just have to know, are you the cause?
yes and no. unfortunately, i didn't get to kill anyone this time. but i'm also at fault. great one. i'm at hurry. so may i be excused? ... you better not show up in my life later on. not necessarily because you're so distractive, it's just the way it- it has to be. have fun around here, but be cautious. you never know where your line's gonna end. or when you're gonna lose someone. i guess it would be even more heartbreaking to you, 'normal people'.
wait, are you saying-
i thought you stopped bothering me. ...nevermind. do whatever you want.
i can't believe you're doing this to me.
please, move.
dazai- baby, i was only trying to-
now, you shut it and let me go or i'll slit your throat with this shiny thing. ... cool. oh, and... your letters or anything like that will never reach me. we have nothing to discuss. nothing that is worth the effort. i also think you said everything you wanted to. ...thank you- for, uh, not whining too much. see you in hell.
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aromanticannibal · 3 days
Text
mha characters that are aro for CANON reasons (read: in which I reach increasingly further for canon evidence):
(Disclaimer: some of these can be evidence of characters being something else than aro (or ace) but this is my post and I can do whatever I want + /hj to /j to everything on there, when I say I start reaching I start REACHING. These are headcanons!)
Aizawa Shouta doesn't ever show romantic (or sexual) interest in anyone and is actively put off by Ms Joke hitting on him and the idea of getting married to her
All Might has NO experience with women according to Horikoshi (could also mean he has experience with men but y'know)
Ashido Mina really wants to be in a relationship but never fell in love (cupioromantic moment)
Both Bakugou Katsuki and Todoroki Shouto hide from girls crushing on them near the end, don't ever show romantic interest in anyone or get anxious or flustered near girls, Katsuki especially apparently never cared about girls (and vice versa) before and and Shouto specifically doesn't notice when he's hit on.
Iida Tenya is never interested in girls or men and is significantly more focused on both his studies and his friendships
My favorite headcanon: Uraraka Ochako's love for Izuku seems founded more on her admiration and people telling her she must like him (because boy and girl etc) than in actual romantic love, and she connects a lot with Toga (who also loves people in a non-conventional way)
Midnight doesn't have a romantic partner or anyone she regularly flirts with despite being a very beautiful and desired woman, and doesn't seem to have had any kind of romantic relationship with the three boys more or less her age she hung out with a lot (the rooftop trio) (she can also be seen as a cliché of aroallo person who only cares about sex so I'm claiming her).
Pixie Bob's obsession with finding a partner is giving "I've been told all my life that I HAVE to get married and I don't want to so I keep looking for the perfect match and not finding it because the man I'm looking for doesn't exist because I won't ever fall in love". Because by god you can't tell me the cute blonde catgirl isn't finding a boyfriend.
All For One only cares about his brother, I'd even argue he's aromantic asexual aplatonic etc. a-everything except familial and idk. quirkic. attracted to quirks.
Mount Lady is aro for the same reason as Midnight but because I think it's implied or canon that she's dating Kamui Woods, she's lower.
Midoriya Izuku is green so he's obviously aromantic and most of his flustered reactions to girls seem based more on shyness (and an obvious reaction to getting boobs shoved in his face) and sexual or aesthetic attraction than romantic attraction (he also has a very romcom view of what being boyfriend girlfriend is, ie. his reaction to Toga's confession)
Aoyama Yuuga's definition of love (according to his comment on Ochako being in love with Izuku because she was thinking "what would Deku-kun do?") is very weird and seems based more in things he was told or saw in fiction than feelings he would have felt himself.
Yoarashi Inasa is just so fucking weird with friendships and social cues he looks like he's trying to navigate the world while making absolutely sure NO ONE misinterprets him, which makes him both very aro and very autistic in my book
Kurogiri is literally a bunch of mist with little free will whose purpose in life is protecting this one boy, he's all the As.
Endeavor married for insane reasons and never even cheated on Rei after he sent her to the hospital (which a lot of men his caliber would do)
Ms Joke makes the idea of dating Shouta a joke and I think that's great. She's also green.
Miruko's chill and doesn't give a fuck, she's a fighting person, very Katsuki-coded in that regard I fear. She also works alone without an agency, which is giving aromantic for no reason other than I Said So.
Toga Himiko is a queer allegory that is generally interpreted as bisexual and biromantic but I think she can be interpreted as aroallo as well (way to love that’s seen as impure and unholy etc etc, notions of consent – taking people’s blood and hurting them without their consent which is for her a way to show her love, most of her attraction seeming physical or aesthetic rather than romantic, her parents telling her to repress repress repress instead of satisfying her desires in a safe way, the scene where she’s biting her wrist in her sleep???? etc etc) 
Twice never had a lot of friends and never had a lot of female friends and when he feels gratefulness and care for Toga it outwardly seems romantic because he doesn’t know what’s romantic and what’s not and hasn’t had a lot of female friends 
Dabi is giving aromantic aplatonic who only really loves his family but due to circumstances can’t love them healthily and ends up just hating them (the most intense feelings of love he shows are always towards Enji or Natsuo, and his apology to Shouto makes me think Shouto is also included in this – no evidence for Fuyumi and Rei but I can do what I want. He clearly cares for Twice and Toga too but it presents very differently, even after he’s revealed himself and doesn’t need to be as secretive). 
Shigaraki Tomura probably just doesn’t give a shit I’d say. He’s pretty apathetic when he isn’t fighting or angry or like doing his hatred thing, but he clearly cares about his teammates. 
Fatgum is foodpilled and studentpilled. He really loves food and he really loves his students he doesn't need no romantic relationship.
Jirou Kyoka takes a bit to warm up to Denki so I think she's demiromantic actually
Bruce (the third user of One For All). He just has such third wheel vibes.
Intelli Saiko because why would she bother with romance, it's so unpractical and illogical
Despite asking for boys' numbers all the time and being very aware of romance, Utsushimi Camie looks like she could NOT CARE LESS. aro
The fact that Hawks plays up the flirting with his fans is giving aromantic to me – obviously heartbreaker aroallo stereotype but I think he could also be ace, the aroallo part isn’t that important, it’s just that he’s always pretending. It’s giving still in the closet. Also I know he’s young and busy and Horikoshi doesn’t really put that much casual romance in MHA but it’s so funny that there isn’t even a sliver of a girlfriend implied in his timeskip. Hawks is Married To His Job. 
Star and Stripe is also absolutely married to her job. Also, lots of guys around her, lots of important and admired male figures in her life, and yet not a single crush from her. Points. Aromantic lesbian 
Nezu is a fuckass mouse I highly doubt he's attracted to humans in any way
Gran Torino is a single old man which is enough for me (though because I hate that fucker I think it'd be funny if women just hated him)
Where Is Shimura Nana’s Husband. 
Muscular only likes to kill, he doesn’t need romance nor sex, his only desire is Killing People and fighting. Same thing for Moonfish, he only wants to eat people (mood my guy) 
Geten is very hyper focused on making his quirk stronger, he doesn’t seem to really have any relationships.
Overhaul just fucking hates people
Again, Kendo Rappa only cares about fighting.
So so sad because I like his girlfriend but Natsuo is giving marrying to get away from his father
Koda Koji just had the vibes. He's so aroace to me. (aro Koda brain vs kodajirou brain fight)
Monoma Neito is such a fucking hater he just has to be aromantic
Wash is a washing machine
Honorable mentions:
List of characters whose only argument is they never show romantic attraction and don't talk much about romance or get flustered: Shouji Mezo, Sato Rikido, Tokoyami Fumikage, Shinsou Hitoshi, Yaoyorozu Momo, Sero Hanta, Hado Nejire, Togata Mirio, Shirakumo Oboro, Present Mic, Seiji Shishikura, Ryukyu, Gang Orca, Shishido, Centipeder, Ectoplasm, Hound Dog, Thirteen, Vlad King, Mandalay, Tiger, Lady Nagant, Mr. Compress, Tsukauchi Naomasa, Todoroki Rei and Fuyumi, Melissa Shield.
List of characters whose only argument is "they're green so they're obviously aromantic": Asui Tsuyu, Ibara Shiozaki, Tokage Setsuna, Kamakiri Togaru, Midoriya Inko, Ragdoll, Burnin, the Sludge Villain (I’m taking all I can get), Mustard, Ordinary Woman.
Bonus: characters that I can't make aromantic no matter how hard I try under the cut:
Gentle and La Brava, for obvious reasons. I feel like making them not love each other is like illegal.
Kudo and Yoichi. By god my brain will not accept it they're in love.
Amajiki Tamaki. I'm sure he could be aromantic but I can't let go of the Mirio and Nejire crushes (which are so real and true to me)
Yuyu (Nejire's friend), she also looks way too much like she has a giant crush on Nejire. Lesbian moment.
Best Jeanist and Edgeshot, they're giving high school sweethearts.
I put them in honorable mentions but I just have to mention Gang Orca and Shishido somewhere because the one baseball OVA made me think they're like the pseudo-enemies/rivals who argue all the time but somehow fight extremely synchronized when needed and ONLY fight each other because they're the only ones Worth It etc which is. Y'know. eye emoji etc etc
Sir Nighteye is literally in love with All Might
David Shield is literally in love with All Might
No really did you see David's wife? This man went and found a blonde blue eyed wife when he couldn't marry his blonde blue eyed best friend. His daughter looks like an All Might secret love child. I know whenever Dave hears Melissa call All Might uncle he dies a little inside because he wishes she could call him Dad too and he could call Toshinori his darling husband and
Rock Lock is happily married and I could never take that away from him
Spinner is green so I can kind of see him as aro but he’s giving madly in love with Shigaraki so much
Magne has a crush on Dabi in one of the Smash strips which is too funny to ignore I think she’s madly in love with him. And she’s right
I like kirimina so fucking much I genuinely struggle to come up with aro Kirishima headcanons. I think he could be quoiromantic but I also think he’s madly in love with Mina so I don’t know. 
Stain is literally in love with All Might
Ending (guy who attacked Natsuo) is literally in love with Endeavor
Garaki Kyudai is literally in love with All For One (“I miss your eyes” guy is so fucking devoted. The true doomed yaoi of MHA)
I know Rody is in love with Izuku he just has to be. 
To me Shindo Yo also has a crush on Izuku but also he's canonically dating Nakagame Tatami which is also cute.
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nqueso-emergency · 7 hours
Note
I'm so sorry babes that they're treating you like this. You have always come off resilient and human and honest. They can never take that away no matter how evil and aggressively they try. You deserve to be treated so much better regardless of anyones opinions surrounding the show. I want you to know that you don't have to be our martyr either. Your health and wellbeing should always come first. Yes, I'll say it selfishly. I don't want you to leave or change because of them, but if you ever want to, it'll be okay. We'll be okay. But you do it because it's what you want to do, not for them. They have no power over you. Those dusty lil shits can kick rocks. You've done more good for this fandom than any of those imbeciles could ever dream to imagine. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. They want to attack and tear you down because they're scared of the truth. They don't want to accept that they're the toxic part of the fandom, and that's a sad reality for them, but you babes, you've saved the day. You're a fucking rockstar. I would have quite this fandom if it wasn't for you. You've played a huge role in bringing US all together. Given us a place of solidarity. Allowed us to openly have strength and positivity and humor and vent our frustration during this hiatus all in a safe place. And again, I commend you for willing taking blow after blow and insults and unjust hatred to protect us. Sending some love 🫶🏾 I hope you and everyone else here get to experience more peace and happiness🫰🏽
OMGWTFTHATSSOSWEET
I read everyone's asks and I appreciate them all!! But I really wanted to share this one because I too hope all of you get to experience peace and happiness.
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❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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