#i'm glad you sent me another :d

[lilasamaaa]

The night we met | Lando Norris x Reader

Genre | Fluff.

Word count | 2.6K

Warnings | None for once! Enjoy some peace.....

Summary | When Reader's best friend sets her up on a blind date with one of her long-time friends, she expects anything but the evening she's about to experience.

Author's note | This piece is the result of yesterday's poll! Another poll will be coming soon for y'all to decide what's next :)

"I'm really not sure if it's a good idea, Alice," she sighs, looking over at the bed where her friend is seated, behind her.

"What makes you say that?" Alice replies, arching an eyebrow.

"I have a list of reasons, actually," she states, pulling out her phone.

"You and your damn lists!"

"I know you hate them, but they help me clear my mind," she says, clicking on a note.

"Alright, let's hear your reasons then," Alice laughs. "But I'm warning you, I'm going to dismantle them one by one."

"Okay," she starts. "Reason one is : I don't know him."

"That's kinda... the whole point of blind dates," her friend says, rolling her eyes.

"Well, you agreed to this. I did not. You know how anxious I get when I don't know people," she says, head low.

"Lando is a really nice guy," Alice says, coming close to her friend and stroking her hair. "I just know he'll put you at ease right away."

She takes a few seconds to think, biting the inside of her cheek. It's not the first time she's about to go on a date with someone she's never met before. Even though she doesn't know him, she's not really worried about Lando. She's more concerned about herself, to be honest. She's not a model of eloquence, doesn't consider herself particularly pretty. She's sure her date will do his best. What she's not sure about, is if she'll be able to overcome her own anxiety about the whole situation.

"Reason two, then," she says, focusing back on the note. "I don't know a thing about racing. What are we even going to talk about?"

"Well, something else. I'm sure Lando would be delighted to talk about something other than work for once," Alice replies, winking.

She wasn't lying, she thinks. She really has an answer for everything.

"Shoot me with reason three, baby," Alice says, letting out a laugh.

"Reason three," she replies, eyeing her friend. "Let's say I don't fuck up, which would be a miracle in itself, and we hit it off. How am I supposed to maintain a long-distance relationship? We're not talking about Brighton or Cambridge, we're talking about another continent. Several times a year."

"Well, I'm glad you're thinking so much ahead," Alice replies, earning a frustrated grunt from her friend. "There'll be plenty of people who are in the same situation as you. You can always ask for advice from other WAGS," she concludes, laughing.

"You're insufferable."

"Was there a fourth reason to debunk, or are we done here?" Alice asks.

"There is, actually. That's the last one," she says, staring at her phone. "Every time I've gone on a date like this, without having seen the guy... They were never really... to my taste," she begins. "So I've never kissed them, never went any further. But if I like him, what am I supposed to do?"

"What's the real question?"

"Am I supposed to kiss him on the first date? I don't want him to think I'm easy. Is it better to play hard to get and..."

"Wow, you're overthinking this," Alice says, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't have any answer to give you. Just... Go with the flow. And if you're not sure about what to do, let him take the lead. Okay?"

An hour later, she's walking through the streets of Bristol, trying to calm her breathing, her thoughts, her already racing heart. She's checked the address Lando had sent her about ten times before leaving Alice's apartment. On principle, she takes out her phone, checking one last time. Her phone indicates that the restaurant is less than a minute's walk away, at the corner of the street she's on. There's still time to turn back, she thinks, before gathering herself. No. He doesn't deserve that.

In front of the restaurant, she casts a quick glance inside, checking if he's already there, before remembering that she doesn't even know what he looks like. Well, she has a vague idea. She's seen pictures on Alice's Facebook and Instagram over the years, but his precise features escape her. She remembers curly hair, beauty spots. Not much more. She's not sure if she would recognize him in a crowd.

She pushes the door and slips inside the buzzing restaurant, politely greeting the waitress who welcomes her.

"I have a reservation for two," she says. "The name's Norris."

"Ah yes, he's already here, in the second room. I'll take you to him," the waitress replies, flashing a smile.

Her heart stops. He's already here? She deliberately arrived fifteen minutes early to have time to settle down quietly, to gather herself. To wash her hands if they're too sweaty. This was not how it was supposed to go at all, she thinks, feeling the anxiety rise.

The waitress guides her through the tables to the small room at the back of the restaurant. On the way, her brain disconnects, giving way to total panic. I knew it was a bad idea, she tells herself, biting her lip. I'm going to make a fool of myself. The waitress suddenly stops, saying something that her brain doesn't comprehend before walking away and she looks up, meeting his gaze.

Oh, wow, she thinks, eyes widening. That man is too handsome for his own good.

"Hey, it's nice to meet you" he says, extending a bouquet of white tulips to her. "Alice said those were your favorites."

She smiles, taking the bouquet before burying her nose in it. Alice, you little sneak.

"Thank you so much," she replies, feeling her cheeks flush. "They're stunning."

Lando pulls out her chair before sitting back down, not taking his eyes off her. Feeling his gaze on her, she dives intensely into reading the menu. Or rather, she pretends to, because she's not even reading, just trying to avoid the attention the driver is giving her.

"You seem nervous," he states, still looking at her.

Feeling her cheeks turn red, she holds her menu higher in front of her face, hiding a little more. "Hey," he says, putting his finger on the menu to lower it. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just really bad at this," she replies, finally looking at him. "Dates, conversations, one-on-ones. It's not about you, I swear."

There we go, she thinks, head low. We've been sitting for ten minutes and I've already messed everything up.

"Would you like to go somewhere else?" he asks, and she looks up, furrowing her brows.

"What?"

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, that wasn't the intention," he says. "A romantic dinner may be a bit much for a first date. So, if you want to go somewhere else, do something else, it's not a problem."

"But... We're already sitting," she says, confused.

"It's no big deal," he replies, shrugging. "The restaurant is packed, they won't go bankrupt because we leave. We can just tell them we don't like anything on the menu."

She lets out a laugh, covering her mouth, astonished by the driver's suggestion.

"If you could go anywhere, a place where you feel comfortable and safe, where would you go?" he asks, his big eyes detailing her.

She thinks for a moment, looking upwards, biting her lip again.

"If we really had no limits... I'd go to the sea," she replies, thoughtful.

"Let's go then," Lando says, rising up and taking his jacket.

"What? Lando, we can't do that," she says, still sitting. "The good beaches are like, an hour drive away."

But Lando has already circled the table, jacket in hand, extending his hand to her.

"My car's parked outside," he replies.

She doesn't understand what's happening, so for once, she sets aside her brain and listens to her heart, grasping his hand and allowing him to guide her towards the restaurant's exit, the driver only stopping to explain briefly to the very understanding waitress that an emergency has come up and they have to leave, carefully slipping several bills in her hand as a tip - and as compensation.

Outside, Lando leads her to his car, their hands still intertwined, her heels clicking on the cobblestones. He opens the door for her and she slips inside, her heart racing.

"I've never done anything like this in my entire life," she says, staring straight ahead.

"You should never force yourself to do something you don't want to do, though," he replies, looking through the rear window to reverse, leaning indirectly towards her. His scent reaches her nose and she can't help but look at him closely, detailing every detail of his profile. His clear eyes. His beauty spots that remind her of constellations. The curly lock of hair that crosses his forehead.

"Does Ogmore work for you?" he asks, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Ogmore's perfect," she replies, eyes glistening.

They set off, and as the English countryside landscape passes by through the window, she notices that for the first time since she left Alice's apartment, she isn't feeling anxious. Her heart still beats just as fast, sure, but she suspects it's not really because of stress anymore. Lando rummages between their seats and eventually pulls out a cable, which he hands to her.

"I don't mind driving, but you're the DJ," he says, laughing. "Put on some music. Let me know who you are."

She grabs the cable before connecting it to her phone, scrolling through her Spotify playlist. So you want to know who I am, huh? she thinks, blushing again, before clicking on her favorite song.

The first notes of "I'm Outta Time" by Oasis resonate in the car, and Lando shoots her a surprised look.

"I actually love that song," he says, smirking. "What does it tell about you?"

"Well," she starts. "As you must be starting to suspect, I strongly identify with the idea that the sea is the only place that manages to calm me down, where I truly feel free."

"I'm with you on that one," he replies.

"And then... It's quite personal, but to me, the song's about someone who's lonely. Someone seeking comfort, a pillar, someone who can support them through everything. But also someone they'd be willing to let go out of love."

Lando turns his head towards her, and she gets lost in the softness and understanding reflected in his eyes. The song comes to an end, and she clicks on "On Melancholy Hill" by Gorillaz.

"I promise I'm not depressed," she says, meeting his gaze, while he lets out a laugh.

"This one's talking about the sea, again," he states.

"There's that," she says. "And there's this dreamy feeling. It's about frustration, about pressuring yourself to achieve big things, when maybe..." she stops for a second. "Maybe just being with your person is enough. Maybe there's no need for more," she finishes, looking out the window, troubled by the feeling of having said too much.

"I get it," he says, still looking at the road ahead.

"You do?" she asks.

"Of course. I'm not the last one to have dreams and goals, as you can imagine. But at the end of the day, when all that's over, what's left? What do you turn to?"

The rest of the journey goes on in the same way. She plays a song, explains why she likes it, what it makes her feel, what it reminds her of. Lando listens attentively, interweaving her narrative with his own anecdotes, sharing his thoughts, his fears. That's much more intimate than a restaurant, she thinks. But somehow, she doesn't mind.

Forty minutes later, a sign indicates that Ogmore is the next exit, and Lando turns onto the narrow road, which soon becomes a path. They leave the car in a parking lot, where only a few cars are parked before embarking on the sandy trail. Before them, the sun has begun to set, tinting the sky with orange, pink, and violet hues.

"Just in time," Lando says before plopping down on the sand. She sits beside him, closing her eyes. Absorbing the healing sound of the waves.

"Thank you so much for this, Lando. You have no idea how much it means to me," she says, feeling emotional.

They both lie there, side by side, without saying a word, lulled by the sound of the waves.

"Do you remember the night we met?" Lando suddenly asks, looking at the sky and the stars that the onset of night begins to reveal.

"What do you mean?" she asks, turning on her side to look at him.

"It was last year," Lando starts, as she furrows her brows, completely lost.

"I'm not sure I understand," she replies, confused. "I've seen you in pictures... But this is the first time we meet."

"Alice's birthday, in London," the driver specifies, and she dives into her thoughts, trying to rewind time. "You were wearing a black dress. Backless."

"I... I remember the birthday, and the dress," she begins. "But I don't remember you. Well, I remember Alice saying you had something come up," she continues, lost.

"I had a work function, couldn't get away. But I still stopped by, dropped off Alice's gift," he explains.

"I'm sorry, Lando," she says, embarrassed. "I don't remember seeing you."

"We crossed paths in one of the hallways of the bar. You were leaning against a wall, talking to someone... Jeff? Greg?" he says, closing his eyes as if trying to remember.

"Jeff? My boyfriend at the time?"

"Yes, that was him. You two were arguing about something, I can't remember what. The tone started to escalate, and you walked off towards the restroom."

"I remember that."

"I found myself in front of Jeff, and I told him, "You shouldn't argue with a pretty girl like that. She deserves better". He told me to fuck off, to mind my business, and left," he recalls, laughing.

"Wow, I had no idea," she says. "Him and I broke up like, four months after that anyway."

"I know. Alice told me."

"Why would she tell you that? It must not be of much interest to you."

"I'd mentioned to her that I found you beautiful. In fact, to be honest, I think I said you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen," the driver says. "So one morning, she texted me. Said something like... "She broke up with Jeff. Time to grow a pair."

"Wow," she says, laughing in shock. "I didn’t know that."

Silence falls. Neither speaks for several seconds. He, wondering if he's said too much. Her, wondering what she should conclude from the driver's words.

"So..." she starts. "When Alice told me that she had planned a blind date..."

"It was my idea," he says, meeting her eyes. "But we couldn't say that."

"Oh, my god," she says, laughing again. "I can't believe you two."

A particularly turbulent wave crashes at their feet, making them yelp and quickly stand up. They're suddenly face to face. Wrapped in a heavy silence. One that cannot last.

"So you did, then," she finally says.

"What?"

"You grew a pair," she replies as he bursts out laughing.

"You're not angry at me, are you?" he asks, taking a step forward.

"I'm... quite surprised, I won't lie. But I'm not angry, no. I've never had a first date like this," she confesses. "I've never felt so listened to, so understood... In so little time. It started off badly, and yet you... you made me feel like I could be myself."

"You can," Lando says, taking her hand. "That's all I want."

"Will you think I'm moving too fast if I kiss you?" she suddenly asks.

"No," he says, coming closer until their breaths meet. "I won't."

[luveline]

whenever youre free!! can you please write a spencer x reader where we meet spencer during an early season where he’s still cute and awkward maybe we date too but something happens and we don’t see him for a long time only to meet him again when he’s older and hotter (post prison) and there’s still crazy tension after all those years. in love with your writing btw!!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok :D ♡ 1.2k

cw vaguely suggestive theme

Looking at Spencer, you could almost think you were fresh out of college again, unsure of yourself and in need of a friend. 

He'd been much more than a friend. It's why you're here. 

The cake might have been a bad idea. You hold it between two hands, the subtle smell of chocolate rising from the box's ill-fitting lid. Your breath catches, words coming out wonky, "Hey. Spencer?" 

He looks up from his book, startled at being found, you think. "Y/N?" 

He looks the same. 

Obviously, he's older. He has facial hair and his curls are styled rather than having been left to their own devices, but you feel as hopelessly enamoured with him as you had years ago, because he still smiles like a puppy dog.

You're twice as surprised as he is when he stands from his coffee table to hug you. The cake box wobbles in your hands as he squeezes you, swaying you from side to side, his laugh warm in your ear. 

"What are you doing back here?" he asks, diving backward to see your face. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." 

"I still had JJ's number, you know, from when I wanted that address, and she texted me to say you'd been released, and I," —your voice curls tighter, are you talking too much?— "know you might not want to hear from me, but I was worried about you. You were my best friend." 

His smile flickers. You press the cake into his hands. 

"That's for you," you say. 

Spencer's wavering smile turns to the box. He sets it down on the table beside his coffee cup and tented book, removing the lid carefully. You remember suddenly how nice his hands are, and the tracing of his fingertips down your bare shoulders. Goosebumps erupt along the ghost of his touch. 

"Well done on not being a criminal," he reads, snorting. "Funny. Little too soon." 

You feel like your stomach's fallen out, but he drops the act with another laugh. 

"Oh, you're still a jerk," you say. "I'm glad something hasn't changed." 

"You think I've changed?" he asks. 

"You didn't get any taller, if that's what you're asking." 

Spencer's smile turns fond. It's the sweet, sticky smile he'd always give you before he'd tell you he loved you, or that you were the best best friend ever. Or that last night, when you followed him hand in hand down the long hallway to his bedroom. 

"I wasn't that much of a jerk, was I?" he asks. 

"No, you weren't." You hold your hands behind your back. "Could I join you? Just for a bit?" 

"You brought me a cake. I can't say no, can I? Of course you can sit down. I'll get you a coffee, okay?" 

He touches his hand to your arm as he passes. You sit down in the seat across from him, sick with what-if and should-have. What if I could've stayed? Maybe I should have done more. But when Spencer ignored the letters you sent him while he was incarcerated, you figured you'd done more than he wanted. The cake was a last ditch effort, spurred on by JJ's text that read, I think he'd be really happy to see you. 

Spencer puts a china cup down in front of you. You take a sip, muscle memory, and grin at him shyly as he slides into the seat across from you. "You remembered." 

"I remember everything." 

"Right. Your photographic memory." 

"Eidetic, and sure, but I wouldn't forget about you." He reads your shyness for what it is, worry you've overstepped. He's too perceptive to trick. "I think I tried, but… I have so many bad memories, I wanted the good ones to keep." 

You can't imagine the things he experienced in prison. JJ couldn't tell you much. You knew from how you had to address his letters alone that he was sent to a general correctional facility in Mexico, rather than the protective custody he'd needed. He doesn't look terrible considering, but you've barely seen him since you had to leave. He's aged well. The only worry is his dark under eyes. 

"We had a good time," you say gently. "I knew you'd need that. That's why I sent you all those letters, you know? I wasn't trying to come back into your life, I know I don't deserve it after I left, but I couldn't stop thinking about you by yourself." 

You stare at his book. 

"How many letters did you send?" he asks. 

"I don't really remember." 

"I didn't get one." He grimaces. "I didn't get any from my mom, either. Think it was a coincidence?" 

Spencer's time in was kind of sick. He stabbed himself, made friends with criminals, played a lot of chess, and learned how to make tacos in a doritos bag. It was also arguably the loneliest and most degrading time of his life. 

One coffee becomes two, two becomes a third to go. You feel a hundred emotions but there's one that stands out the most as you drift around Pentagon City with him —wanting. You want him to be your best friend again, to rub your back and hold you when you're tired, to take you grocery shopping in his beat up P130. You want him to kiss you like he had, like he was searching for something, but he's changed so much that you don't know if your Spencer is still in there, under everything, or if he'd even want to.

"You live in the same apartment?" you ask. 

"Can you imagine how much it would cost me to move that many books? Paying the rent turns out cheaper," he says, the two of you walking in the grey street. "What about you? You didn't come all the way here to see me." 

"I actually did." You rub up the length of your upper arm, sheepish. "I did, Spencer." 

For a while, all you can hear is the plastic rustling of the bag held in his hand. 

"Thank you for writing to me. I didn't get to read them, but it makes a difference." 

You lift your head to meet his eyes. He holds your gaze, a charge behind his dark brown eyes. You used to think his irises and his pupils were one and the same, but you can see now that there are flecks of light in his irises. His hedging of thick lashes kiss in the corners as he slowly, slowly smiles. 

You glare at him. "Don't." 

"Don't what?" 

"You know what. You're doing that thing. Pretending you're not trying to make me nervous." 

"I'm not doing that. Flustered, but not nervous." Is he smirking?

"Flustered," you repeat, your smile stupidly big now, cheeks aching. "Yeah, right, Reid."

His pinky brushes yours. You don't have any proof that he's doing it purposefully, but he is. 

"Do you want to get something to eat? You can tell me what you were writing in your letters. I'd really, really like to know." His voice is threaded with a familiar timidity for the first time since you reunited. 

There you are, you think happily. "Sure. You buy me a sticky bun from our old place and I'll tell you all my written secrets." 

"Deal." 

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Broken Hearts and Valentines Cards.

Steve sends you a card for Valentine's day, it's just as a friend... Eddie isn't so happy and his mouth runs away with him, which you overhear.

Eddie Munson x Reader, Jealous Eddie, Kinda mean Eddie at the end, sorry 😌 bit of an angsty fic instead of a fluffy Valentines.

❤️

Steve had overheard you speaking to Nancy and Robin about Valentines Day. It was a few days before the big day, and you were mentioning that you hadn't been sent a card before.

"It would be nice wouldn't it? Even to receive just one card, normally it never used to bother me but-'' You trail off, your chatty demeanour soon becoming shyer, hesistant to speak.

"But you wouldn't mind a card from a certain metalhead'' Nancy teases and you nod, then sigh.

"Never going to happen though" you reply, and Steve stays in the background so you don't realise he's heard. Robin catches his eye and must realise he's scheming after hearing your confession.

If you wanted a card then Steve was going to send you one. After all what could go wrong?

...

Valentine ''cupids'' were wandering the cafeteria handing out Valentines cards. The cupids in question were some reluctant and some eager students, they were holding indivual boxes labelled Valentines mail.

Eddie was ranting at the Hellfire table, he dreaded this day and all the bullshit consumerism that came with it.

"I can't stand this shit. It's just another day that corporates use to trick the gullible into buying manufactured shit" he snaps.

"Tell us how you really feel dude" Gareth jokes, then quietens at Eddie's sharp look, Eddie doesn't notice how quiet you've grown, the sad look on your face at his words.

Then something unexpected happens, one of the cupids comes up to the Hellfire table and drops a card right in front of you.

There's a stunned silence, you pick up the card and hold it gently. You've never had a card before... Who sent it?

You open it and smile at the cute picture of a kitten and puppy snuggled up together. Hearts surround them, it's really adorable.

The card is signed from an Admirer, heat floods through your body and you beam. Even if it's from a friend, it's still very sweet and you hold it reverently.

"Who sent it?" Jeff asks curious, he peers over your shoulder. ''Ooh an admirer" he teases.

Eddie frowns "Why not just sign who it's from then?" his big brown eyes narrow at the card. You tuck the card into your bag and shake your head.

"It's romantic, or just being sweet. People can be sweet and not have a motive Eddie" you point out to him.

Robin passes you and grins in delight.

"I'm glad you got it! Steve will be pleased, he was like an anxious mother hen this morning" you blink surprised, oh.

"Harrington sent it" Eddie yelps and Robin nods to you, beaming.

"Mmm, overhead you saying about Valentines Day, got it in his head to send you a card" she explains.

"That is so sweet" you beam, remembering to thank Steve next time you see him. Meanwhile, Eddie was still quiet, which with him was never a good thing...

❤️

Family Video was one of Eddie's favourite places, he loved finding new horror movies that he hadn't seen yet, along with D&d and playing the guitar, it was one of his favourite things to do to pass time.

Steve was working today with Robin and Eddie discreetly watched him. Dustin sung Steve's praises and Eddie had gotten to know Steve, knew he was a good guy-better than Eddie ever thought. Rich, goodlooking and the chick's loved him but he was a genuine nice guy.

So Eddie couldn't explain why he was so angsty at the thought of Steve sending you that card. Did he like you as more than a friend and wanted to ask you out or something?

"Hey Steve, what's the deal with you sending that card?" he blurts out. Steve raises an eyebrow, folds his arms across his chest and frowns.

"I don't see the problem? I was being a good friend" Steve shrugs and Eddie follows him around as he puts away the videos.

"Do you like her? Is this what it's about?" he demands. Robin, who's listening to the whole conversation is quiet. Until Eddie keeps going on about it and she finally snaps.

Robin rolls her eyes. "Eddie, I'm going to be completely blunt, because you're annoying me right now with how much of a dingus you're being. You're jealous. Sooner you admit it to yourself, the better you'll feel"

Jealous, there was no way he was jealous Eddie scoffs. Robin didn't know what she was talking about.

"Jealous of what? I don't see yn like that at all, she's not my type. She's too into romance, fairytale shit. Nope, no fucking way" he doesn't notice Steve's wide eyes or Robin's furious look.

Confused he turns around, you're standing shock still, looking at Eddie with heartbreak in your eyes.

"Nice to know what you think of me Eddie" you murmur quietly and leave. Robin curses him out as she follows you, leaves Eddie with a horrid sinking feeling in his chest.

Fuck.

[writingstoraes]

the other side 🥡

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!horner!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this was actually a request but it somehow got lost in my inbox so im so sorry to whoever requested this 😭 i hope you still see this though and i hope u like it! lmk what u guys think hehehe

about: fans adore your support for ferrari, given your dad is literally their rival's team principal.

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 1,201,294 others

ynhorner had the best view at monaco 🏎️

(ps. i hope my dad isn't using his instagram right now)

christianhorner I have no words....

ynhorner see u at home 😘

redgirlz LMAOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY

maxverstappen ??? Hello

ynhorner hi, max :)

daylightcharles if years ago you told me christian horner's own daughter would be openly supporting ferrari i would have laughed in your face

hamilecs not charles liking this 😭

sainzlines QUEEN DO U PLAN ON WATCHING SOMEDAY AT FERRARI'S GARAGE 🎤🎤

ynhorner i would if i'd still be my dad's daughter afterwards

ynhorner

liked by christianhorner, landonorris, pierregasly, and 1,028,248 others

ynhorner i may scream "forza ferrari sempre" during race weekends, but i am my dad's daughter still 🫡

therealgerihalliwell There we go, Dad was waiting for you to wear that 😊

ilpredestinato she is me and i am her (i too, would support ferrari to hell and back)

lovesgasly my ferrari queen ❤️

britcedesbros LOVE THE JACKET drop the link pls 🙏

ynhorner dad brought it home after seeing me check out another ferrari cap 😆

ynhorner recently added to her instagram story!

ynhorner

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, therealgerihalliwell, and 1,019,294 others

ynhorner clearing my gallery so enjoy this race week’s dump! life's good when i'm not torn between two teams; i can bust my lungs out to "super max" and forza ferrari my way every sunday ❤️

queensland mother pls tell me that man is just an uber driver

charlierari That's literally Charles 😭 loverslane reaching we can't even see the face???

paddockgirlie MAM IS THAT CHARLES PLS SPEAK INTO THE MIC

ynhorner i think my lawyer says i'd rather not say anything 😅

maxverstappen Glad to know "Super Max" is on your playlist

ynhorner are you kidding? i play that when i drive so i can get to where i'm going faster christianhorner Your karting races are not an excuse for you to overtake whenever you want, Y/N ynhorner it's okay i'm driving a ferrari anyway :D

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 1,503,994 others

ynhorner okay maybe there's another reason why i love ferrari, but it's really not my fault they signed someone so breathtaking and loveable to be their driver 🤷‍♀️

merchamilton someone check up on christian quick

sainzzzzham Y/N IS UR DAD OKAY 😭

ynhorner oh don't worry about him, i'm sure he'll be fine!

charles_leclerc Saw the sign today, apparently that's why you sent me out to buy red poster board?

ynhorner yes, gotta stick to my ferrari girl agenda

paddocklovez MY NEW PARENTS ❤️

maxverstappen Finally, growing tired of hiding Charles when he visits the garage 😐

christianhorner So you were in on this? maxverstappen For legal reasons, I will be blocking you.

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tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant (lmk if anyone else wants to be part of my taglist!)

notes: tysm for reading <3

[edgeray]

mygod that siren Arlecchino fic you did is *chef's kiss* IMMACULATE!!! might i request a continuation, mayhaps? Arle mentioned that she'd follow the reader as they sail, so maybe she misses them and either tries to climb onto the boat or the pier where they're docked to see them again? either hurt/comfort or fluff, the rest is up to you!!! love your work and thank you for fueling my Arlecchino obsession :] also i might pop back in here once in a while, may i be moth anon?

The Sea's Calling Pt. 2

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Part 1 link here. Yes, you definitely can be a moth anon! Hi :D. I already added you to the anon list. To other anons that have requested and I haven't gotten to, I do see your requests and if you gave yourself an emoji/name I already added you ^^. Anyways, back to moth anon. <333 I'm so glad you enjoyed my siren Arlecchino fic! As my first request I was kind of nervous about it but I'm glad that you enjoy! I'm also really glad that you sent this request! I did always want to write a part 2 but didn't have the opportunity until now. Thanks moth anon, for the reuqest and for enjoying my works!!  If you couldn't tell, I love the idea of found family pirates. One Piece did this to me. The ending turned out to be self-indulgent, forgive me moth anon ;) Even though it's short, this ended up being one of my favorites. Hope you like this one! Content warnings / info - monster x human, arle is ooc bc she's a siren, fem! reader bc pt.1 has fem! reader, suggestive at the end, 1.2k words

You used to think that the most beautiful thing out there was the sky and its stars–to you, nothing was more mesmerizing than them. They are so alluring despite holding this mystique, and they've guided humans on their naval journeys and inspired all kinds of stories of their origins. The stars were all that kept you company, even on the lonliest and coldest nights.

Now, however, the stars aren't your only company. 

“Guys, I'm going to go back to the ship. Don't wait up on me too much,” you to your fellow pirates as you stand up from the stool. You drop off some extra coins on the baa counter, in order to compensate for the plate that you will be ‘borrowing.’ You pick up the plate of your half-eaten slice of meat pie and sandwich and head towards the exit before one of your crew mates stops you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Turning in already? C'mon, stay a little bit. We've got enough money for a few more rounds of beer,” he says with a boisterous laugh. You chuckle lightly but shake your head. 

“No can do, sorry. Got something to do.”

“Uh huh, like your little siren girlfriend?” Another crew member states, her teasing smile widening as you flush. 

“One more? Jackie hasn't finished his story!”

“Let the darned woman go see her darn girlfriend, Goldie,” another gruffed with a shake of his head. 

“Fine, fine, go on ahead. Tch, when will I get my own smoking hot siren girl?” Goldie huffs, and you snort. Likely never, but you don't tell him that.  

“Thanks, I'll be back,” is all you say before rushing out of the door, nearly tipping over the plate before you balance it again. You wave them off and you make your way back to the docks. The walk is both short and long, and each step you take is filled with the excitement that buzzes through you. 

Even after these months, being able to spend time with her feels like bliss, like you have just found treasure. Sometimes, you forget she's a siren, she's ever so endearing and follows you around like a puppy. Oftentimes, when you're on the boat, you talk to her as she lingers by. The night after you first met the siren your crew had banned you from jumping into the waters because you had developed a cold which infected a good chunk of the crew; the cold wasn't severe for anyone but still. Since you can't be in the water, you often just talk to her from the railings and she answers. 

It's only when you're docked when you can finally touch her, but those times come rare. It can take days, sometimes weeks to reach an island to dock at, but when you do, you always take the time to sit by the shore. 

Finally, you arrive at the pier. “Arle?” You call out, and you see a ripple in the water. Grinning, you walk to the ends of one of the docks, setting down the plate a bit away from you. You remove your shoes and set them far away. Perching on the dock, your feet dip into the cold waters and you shiver.

You see something gleam in the corner of your eyes, the familiar shine of her scales. You then remember the food, and you start. “Wait, Arle don't splash–”

Too late. Something erupts from the waters and launches into you, a cold, heavy weight thrusting into your body making you tumble on your back on the dock. Pressed between the wooden planks and the creature that straddles you, you can't help but laugh and raise your hand up to her face, the now drenched food forgotten entirely. 

“Hey gorgeous,” you say as you stroke her cheek gently. She's the most beautiful treasure that you found among the seas. Arlecchino gazes down on you, her red pupils glistering as her arms wrap around your torso. She purrs, little fangs apparent as the tip of her tongue peeks out with her open-mouth smile. 

“Missed you,” is the first thing she says, before she leans her body against you, nuzzling her face into your neck. Your clothes get soaked from her, but you pay no mind. You stroke her wet hair, carding your fingers through her strands before kissing the top of her head. 

“I missed you too. Did you eat recently?” 

Sometimes she'd disappear for a few nights to search for another wandering ship for her meals but she never fails to find your ship again. You haven't seen her for a couple days before you docked her. 

Arlecchino nods. “Human food?” She questions. Her tail flicks, thumping against the wood out of eagerness. Although she enjoys the taste of cooked meats, beef especially, you don't believe it's as nutrition dense as… well, the main source of her diet, and it's hard to serve her cooked meat while on sea due to the issue of storing meat on ships. So, cooked meat has always been a treat for her. 

You nod. “You want to try?” 

She lets out an affirmative purr, and you help her sit upright in your lap. It's always a bit difficult considering she has a tail instead of legs, but she maneuvers her tail to encircle your waist, and you support her back with one of your arms. You silently mourn for your now soggy sandwich as you reach for the plate, using her tail as a flat surface. 

“What is it?” 

“Meat pie and a sandwich.” You take the fork and dig out the meat from the meat pie. Balancing the tender piece of beef on your utensil, you carefully guide it to her mouth. 

“Careful, it's hot. And don't bite the fork this time,” you gently warn her as she eats it. She squirms a bit in your lap, an indicator that she's pleased with the taste. 

“More?” You chuckle, adoring the cute plea in her eyes. 

You scrape out more of the meat until she's eaten all of the pie filling, leaving you to eat the pie crust. You're still peckish, so you start eating your sandwich, but not before fishing out the thick slice of ham from it, and giving it to her. If it meant you could watch the way her expression lights up again forever, then you would endlessly eat ham-less sandwiches and savor every cheese and vegetables sandwiched in between wet bread. 

“Did you like it?” You ask in between chews as she leans her head against your shoulder. She nods, and leans up again to place featherlight kisses on your neck. With the cold droplets of water and her frigid lips, it tickles you and you giggle. So adorable. 

You freeze up when you feel her fangs prick your skin and she looks up to you for permission. Another mating bite? You nod, wordlessly giving her permission, and you suck in a harsh breath as you feel her teeth sink in. Purrs vibrate coarse through her mouth as she pulls away, lapping at the mark and the texture of her tongue invokes a throaty groan from you, your body trembling with pleasure. 

Arlecchino leans away, but in her eyes, hunger burns in them. Her hands take purchase on your hips and she pushes your back against the planks. Her tail unwinds around your torso and instead coils around your ankles, securing them together.  

“H-here?” You question, flushing. Her hands wander lower, the sharp nails trailing lower to your thighs, where faint scratches scatter. 

The night that you first met her, she sang so beautifully for you. Tonight, you repay her back, singing out her name so tastefully. 

[stealingyourbones]

Not sure if this has been suggested before but what do you think about a DP x DC Cross where the JL discover Amity because the "It's Not Gay if he's Dead" joke escapes containment into mainstream? Also I love your blog! You're awesome.

aaaaa thank you sm hun! I really appreciate that :D I'm glad you enjoy my funky lil blog!

And now, I threw this idea at a fellow who is simply me with prompts but even more unhinged and they wrote a thing. I present to you, This:

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Escaping containment implies that the content got leaked somehow. 

Maybe after so long with dealing with ghosts on their own, especially with ghosts that can control and use tech the people of Amity Park decide to self isolate. Phantom and Red Huntress are considered the only main heroes allowed in Amity, one out of pride and two out of concern of a ghost possessing an foreign hero. 

There was a fight and the tech isolation software glitched or a satellite picks up something on accident, letting a small leak occur. Nothing major, just a small joke. 

A blurry photo of a white haired teenager with a fancam like edit around him and the words "It's Not Gay if he's Dead." 

Which on its own wouldn't have taken off very much on the internet, but someone pointed out that the teenager was wearing what was very obviously a hero outfit. Leading to people wondering just who exactly this hero is or was. 

So they dig, and it turns out the “one” leak wasn't the only one to happen. 

The internet finds out there's not just one meme. There's hundreds of them. All originating from a single midwestern city and mostly focused around one person, the white haired teenager that is referred to as Phantom in most memes. 

Theres edits of a female musician with bright blue hair with text saying “that moment when a dead girl is your bisexual awakening” and “Its not a crush on a villian if shes not alive.” 

There's even photos of these slime-like creatures. With dozens of different memes referring to them. Varying from calling them green pigeons, to talking about tossing them like a sports ball.  

Theres even a photo of Dash and most of the football team are wearing group shirts that all say “It's Not Gay if he's Dead” with Phantoms logo on it, half as a joke and half because some of them would definitely date Phantom if they could. 

It's not even the Justice League that finds the jokes first, it's the younger generation of heroes. 

(It's how Tim asks Kon for a date. He sends a meme with Danny getting flunged in the worlds most tumbling superhero pose with the below text "It's not gay if he's dead." Tim immediately sends another text "But it is gay if he's an alien, 10pm picnic date?")

The different memes get passed around, none of them taking them that seriously, until it gets to Batman. One of the memes is sent in the bat group chat by one of the Bat kids to ask Jason about getting group Batburger later. “If your hero’s dead its not gay, it’s just hero worship, even if you want to meet him behind the Nasty Burger.” 

It's the hyper specific wording that gets Batman to look into it. He only finds the memes, nothing else. No town called Amity Park, no hero called Phantom, no trace outside of a reference to a defunct and wiped completely clean government branch and references to a nonexist law. 

This leads him to contact the Justice League, including the JL Dark, for a meeting. 

Surprisingly quite a few members recognize the teen outside of the memes. Flash, Captain Marvel, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Aquaman, and some of the JLD. The Flash refuses to say anything due to timeline continuum dangers. Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Martian Manhunter mention someone like him appearing in ancient texts, but nothing beyond that. The JLD that know are physically and contractually unable to say much beyond Phantom being a hero and very important. 

It’s Captain Marvel that genuinely knows anything about him. “That's Danny, he's pretty cool. He's even helped me out a few times!”

The rest of the JL are surprised, Marvel gets more questions and answers some of them. He doesn't share the knowledge that he's helped Billy at handling the whole secret child hero thing, and that he's welcome in Amity. Just enough information to make the League stop looking into Phantom, Ember, Cujo, all of Amity. 

It works, mostly. 

Batman has never been one to let sleeping dogs lie…

-From Bones’ GhostWriter, S.

[hoomandoescosplay]

Drunken Confessions | Vox x Reader Oneshot

I lean back in my office chair as I let out a long sigh. “Man this day was draining.” I stretch my arms up helping my body to relax before standing up from my chair.

My office door swings open as I stand and I see Vox using the doorframe for support. I eye him questionably as I take in his appearance.

He stumbles into the room without his suit jacket and his shirt slightly unbuttoned. He quickly walks over to me and pulls me into a tight hug putting most of his body weight on me.

As he holds me he looks down at me with a flushed case and half-lidded eyes. I wrap my arms around him to help support his weight and notice the strong scent of alcohol on him.

"(Y/N)..." he says my name with a flirtatious tone but in a whisper making his breath brush against my face.

“Yes Vox?” I reply back trying to gauge how drunk he actually is right now. He leaned down pulling me back into a hug burying his face in my shoulder and kissing my neck as he spoke.

"I'm drunk..." he mumbled, his breath warm against my skin. His eyes were half closed and his hands started lazily tracing patterns on my back.

He chuckled to himself, the sound slightly slurred from the alcohol. I tense up slightly as he kisses my neck but quickly relax as I sigh.

“I’m glad we’re self aware. Come on, let me get you to your room.” I try to gently pry him off of me so I can start leading him to his room.

He clings to me tightly, his grip refusing to loosen, still nuzzling his face against my neck.

"I don't want to go to my room," he whined, pressing his body against mine. "I want to stay with you." he mumbled.

I glance at the clock on the wall as he continues to embrace me. “Vox, it’s super late, you need to go to your room and sleep.”

He shook his head refusing to let go. Instead he starts leaning down and tracing his lips down my neck, leaving behind kisses. Once he reaches the crook of my neck he nuzzled against it.

"No..." he breathed. "Not tired, not done with you yet." his words were getting more slurred and his hot breath sent shivers down my spine.

My face immediately flushes. “Alrighty no more of that.” I pull him away from me but still hold him up so he doesn’t fall.

“We’re friends but we’re also coworkers and you’re way too drunk and clingy right now. If you don’t want to go to bed at least sit on the couch and let me get you some water.” I try to compromise with him.

He whined in complaint but relented and allowed me to lead him over to the couch. His drunken state and his clinginess made it difficult, but it didn't help that he refused to let go of me. Once we reached the couch, he sat down but continued to pull at me.

"You're warm." he mumbled, pulling me down with him so I ended up sitting on his lap. I sigh as I eye my mini fridge across the room with water.

As he sat sprawled out on the couch, and me now sitting on his lap, I can feel his chest moving with every breath he took and his heart beating.

He stared drunkenly into my eyes, his gaze hazy and unfocused. "You're pretty," he mumbled with a smile. His fingers were gently tracing the hem of my shirt.

“Even though I know you're drunk, hearing you give out compliments is very odd.” I joke. He looked up at me with half-closed eyes and a crooked smile as he continued tracing circles on my back and pulled me in closer.

"Maybe I should compliment you more often," he mumbled. He reached up and tangled his hands in my hair, staring at my face for a moment before his gaze drifted lower.

"Or maybe I just really want to make out with you right now," he added, his words slurring together.

We’re both silent for a moment as we observe one another. I feel myself tense up at the thought that just popped up in my head. “Do you like me Vox?”

He can’t possibly have feelings for me right? We’ve known each other for a while, but we just recently became friends. I’ve worked for him longer than we’ve been friends. There's no way he has feelings for me.

He kept staring at me with his drunken, lust-filled gaze and a crooked smile. He seemed to be processing my question, contemplating the answer.

Then he suddenly wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. "Of course I do," he mumbled, leaning down to press a kiss against the top of my head.

"You're beautiful and smart and... " he trailed off, his eyes wandering down as he started tracing circles on my back again.

As my body relaxes into his own all I can do is process what he just said. Vox likes me. Sure he’s drunk right now but for some reason I can tell he meant what he said.

His hands continued tracing circles on my back, occasionally making their way up to my neck and stroking my hair. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers lingering on my skin and occasionally digging lightly into my flesh.

He mumbled something I didn't quite catch as he moved his head down to my neck, burying his face against it as his lips lazily traced kisses down my skin.

As he kissed my skin, he began mumbling more incoherent praises and murmurs. He nuzzled his face against my throat, his breath hot and his lips tracing a burning path as he moved from my neck to my jaw.

“Vox.” I murmur out. He lifts his head up, looking at me with a hazy and unfocused gaze.

His eyes were half closed and his breath was warm and tinged with the smell of alcohol as he looked at me curiously. He seemed lost, like the sound of his name was hard for him to process.

"Yes," he mumbled, his words slightly slurred, his gaze still hazy and unfocused. He reached up to touch me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face with a lazy gesture.

“As much as I love this, you should really go to bed.” I give him a gentle smile as I squeeze his upper arm softly.

Vox groaned in response, his grip on me tightening slightly. There was a trace of drunken defiance in his slurred voice as he complained. "Don't wanna." he mumbled, his words slurring together. "Wanna stay with you."

I can’t help but let out a small laugh at his defiance. He’s so different when he’s drunk. “I never said I’d leave you. I just said you need to go to bed.”

His grip on me loosened slightly at my words and he groaned again, burying his face in my shoulder for a moment before mumbling something incoherent.

He seemed to be weighing his options, deciding between arguing or just giving in to my request.

After a moment, he seemed to give in and allowed me to lead him away to his room. His room wasn’t too far away from my office so it was a quick walk.

As soon as we got to his room I helped him sit on his bed and quickly grabbed a bottle of water for him before he could grab me.

He sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, a pout forming on his face as he watched me grab the bottle of water.

As soon as I handed it to him, he began taking big gulps from it. The water seemed to help him sober up slightly, his gaze becoming less hazy and unfocused.

However, the intoxication still seemed to linger on him as he still looked at me with a drunken smile and his cheeks flushed red. “C’mere.” He mutters out while tapping the empty spot next to him.

I obliged to his small request and sat next to him. He readjusts himself so he’s laying on his back and pulls me into him so I’m on my side with my head on his chest.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to his chest and nestling his face in my hair. As his fingers traced circles on my back, he let out a content sigh.

The sound of his heartbeat and the slow rise and fall of his chest creates a soothing rhythm that I can feel beneath my cheek.

“You’re comfy.” he mumbled against my head, his voice still slightly slurred and I began to smile. “Good you should be able to fall asleep no problem then.”

He smiled softly, his fingers now tracing lazy patterns on my back. "Mmmm I'll fall asleep... If you give me a kiss." he said in a half slurred whisper.

His gaze was still hazy, but he had regained some clarity as he stared at me, his smirk lazy yet cocky.

I start to laugh as his normal personality is starting to resurface. I sit up slightly and place my hand on his cheek. We stare at each other for a moment before I lean further in and kiss him gently.

He immediately reciprocates, the kiss slow and languid as his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

As the kiss lasted, he deepened it slightly, tilting his head to get a better angle. The kiss continued for a few moments before he finally breaks away, a small smirk lingering on his face.

“Hmmm I guess I can go to sleep now.” he said in a low tone. The smirk quickly became a smile as he pulled me back down and held me close to his chest.

“Good cause you’ve made me exhausted.” I joke as I wrap my arm around his waist. He chuckled softly, the sound warm and low in his chest.

He continued to hold me tight, taking a deep inhale before letting out a content sigh. His fingers lazily traced patterns on my back, slowly slowing down as his breathing became deeper and slower. He seemed to finally relax and let sleep start to take over his body.

“I like you too, Vox.” I whisper as I begin to fall asleep as well. Right before I fell asleep, I thought I heard him mumble something that sounded like "I love you" in a tired and slurred speech.

But I couldn’t be sure if he did say that in his drunken stupor or if my sleep-addled brain was just wishful thinking. Either way I was extremely content right now.

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello amazing fandom :) I have been itching for this ep since the moment D sent me the ep description for it. I'm glad they didn't spoil much of this ep at all. I have a lot of feelings for this one so might be so mini LOL Off we go.

6x05 The Vow

Oh my lord starting out hot with a romantic dinner and a kiss. Also want to talk about they both light up when they see each other. Like they're still in that honeymoon phase somewhat. They’re both so happy to see each other I wanna die. haha Lucy of course has to question the gift. Saying gift giving is not his love language. Damn they cute. Tim saying he is trying to change things up. I’m squeeing and we’re like less than a minute in everyone.

Damnit he’s so romantic with what the gift is. It’s her radio from last week. Oh my word. Lucy is in awe of this man standing before her. Oh my goodness we get a second kiss I’m squeeing so hard. *screams into a pillow* A thank you kiss no less. Loving how he has his hand wrapped around her arm. Pulling her in close for both misses. You know I should've known this ep was going to hurt with getting two kisses within the span of 3 minutes and a cute ass moment to boot.

Like in a video game where they let you stumble upon a bunch of ammo right before a massive fight scene. You know shit is about to go down with them supplying you like that. How I felt with getting cuteness and two kisses right away. I am so excited Tamara has appeared. Wouldn’t be the return of her if she didn’t cock block them. Tim shaking his head too. Classic. Lucy telling her it’s ok. Also LOVING that they have a pre-planned date night. Be still my heart.

Tim gets his cryptic ass phone call and immediately takes off. Lucy looks crushed for a couple reasons. First that he can’t stay. She was clearly looking forward to a night with her man all day. Second the fact he's so short with her. Breaking my heart 'Just wait.' Her Tim radar is going OFFFF Lucy looks SHOOK with his hasty departure. Her heart just walked out the door and it shows.

Oh my word I knew It would be from his military past. The blind spot for the most part we have with his character. I was hoping it would be. The Tim fan girl in me is psyched af. I was thinking who is this Ray and why is Tim so spooked? Then we find out this dude killed their friends and there’s a promise.... Uhhhh the promise is to kill him? Uh Timothy, my love you are a cop….

Oh Lucy is anxious af without him. Ugh she knows something is wrong immediately. Knows this man too damn well. Side tangent about to start. I know some people complained how long it took for them to get together blah blah. BUT I wasn’t. These moments right here are exactly why.

The fact that the very second he took that call she knew deep in her gut something was wrong with him. That is not a connection you get with someone overnight. That is years worth of working together, leaning on each other, learning about one another and seeing each other through a lot of things together. That connection and instinct on someone is built over time.

The beautiful recipe they have now wasn’t ready till we got close to it in s4 and even then they still had some tweaking to do before we reached S5. That being said I love her missing him. My guess is other than 6x01 they’ve scarcely spent a night apart. Also her Tim radar is going bonkers right now. She looks so sick to her stomach when she hangs up.

Tim seeing Lucy’s call going off and not being able to answer. It's clearly killing him. We see him take a beat and a deep breath. Clearly doesn’t want to be here rather be there with her. Last thing he wanted was his date night interrupted. Also she is his ‘go to’ for pretty much everything. You know its actively tearing him up to not answer her.

Oh my he was called the 'Reaper'? Holy hell why is that so attractive? Everything with Tim usually is. But hot damn that being his nickname in the service? I am fanning myself. Idk if that's wrong but I am haha But it does give us insight to who he was in the service tbh. You don't get called 'The Reaper.' without good reason.... Why Greer thinks Tim is going soft on him.

I do love Tim reinforcing the law also very attractive oh my goodness. You tell ‘em love. I don’t love this guy guilting Tim into keeping this pact. He’s SOOOOO loyal he’s gonna keep to it. Even at his own detriment. The man shoulders SO MUCH he already doesn't need to. Ugh Tim saying they’ve built lives. Yes you have. With Lucy. The love of your life you walked away from tonight to be here right now. After this chat I knew this ep was going to hurt so good. I could feel it.

The jokes in the car are cute was hoping he’d ask Tim about Lucy. Sadly we didn't' get this. This whole situation makes me nervous af. God Tim looks extra fine in this episode street clothes on him are a wonder. A delicious one.

My god this list of crimes this guy has done sweet lord. Stole money. Called in an air strike on his own men when they came for him holy shit …Wasn't enough to bury in a shoe box.....fuck they both lied to get Ray’s wife and kid death benefits and if they bring him in it’s a problem.

Crap this is so bad Tim... Saying they’ll get fired from their current jobs and be dishonorably discharged from the service. I’m nervous…this isn’t a good situation. Also not surprised in the least he broke the rules to take care of someone. That empathy of his ran deep before it got buried by his Isabel trauma later on.

First off let me say Eric KILLED ME in this scene. I was tearing up at how tore up he is about all of this. Tim wanting to take the fall.... Damnit Timothy you have a life too. Don't fall on your sword my god imma cry. Tim’s integrity is one of his sexiest traits IMO. I too have a deep sense of integrity drives everyone I work with insane. He’s in tears saying he would arrest him. Oh my word. I'm crying again. Eric killing me softly holy hell. I'm so mad at Greer for putting that on him. I had a bad feeling about Greer the minute he guilted Tim into this side OP.

How dare you put that on my Tim. He already has so much on his soul. A chunk of it not even his fault. The man is a deeper empath than he gets credit for. He absorbs the feelings and pain of those around him and shoulders things he doesn't need to. I'm learning in therapy I do the same thing. My therapist told me one thing to be empathetic. It's another to feel responsible for other's feelings or the outcome of actions I've taken and how it affects others. I feel like Tim is the same way. He's such an empath he's taken that responsibility to the extreme and is carrying things he doesn't need to be.

I wanna hug him oh my god. His sigh when Greer left. My heart. I'm sure part of the reason he's hiding this from Lucy is the shame he feels. This man (Ray) stole half a million from the government then bombed his own people on his watch. Tim breaks the rules to make sure his widow and child are taken care of and its bites him in this ass. There is a reason he was/is so damn rigid as a cop. 'Rules matter boot.' His PTSD in a line. Anytime he has let his guard down and skirted the rules people have been injured (Mitch) or in this case killed. Ugh. My poor boy. The hitch in his breath like he couldn't breath that entire convo. I'm hurting so much for him in this episode.

Poor Lucy kept it together at work but lost it when he finally gets home. That look of hope when he walks through the door then instant anger. ‘Telling me you’re alive is not optional.’ Ugh she’s not wrong....I can only imagine what her anxiety was doing to her until he walked through that door. It's shown in her lines above. Her imagining him bleeding out somewhere.

She is not wrong it wasn't ok he didn't even tell her he was alive. I get why he didn't but he should've. Lucy straight confronting him. Asking him what the actual hell is going on with him? No one knows you better than her. You can't hide what you're going through. Tim of course wants to protect her from being fired and refuses to tell her what he's torn up about. Only alluding to it's serious enough if she knows she will be jeopardizing her standing at work.

Her saying 'Then what are you doing here?' God damn Lucy... telling it like it is. Holy hell. Poor Tim is so taken aback by her response. He breaks my heart when he says 'I came to see you.' Lucy has become his safe place. His comfort zone. So by default he came here to seek that comfort. She is home now and he came home. But she can’t comfort you when she doesn’t know what to comfort you for. This scene hurts to watch. Because he is DYING for her compassion, her warmth and just her. He is denied access because she is setting a boundary with this as she should. Tim needs to share the load with her. To tell her the truth. She is willing to risk her standing for him.

My god if she actually knew she would be kicking herself for how much he needs her right now. But she doesn't know so she sends him away. The tears in both their eyes His 'Understood'. Man is about to cry in front of her. I’m dying. Someone revive me. I’m dead and not in a good way. I’m crying. Eric and Melissa out here crushing it though. Gah Tim would rather blow them up and protect her than not ugh Timmmmmmm I get both sides of this. Tim thinks since this is pre-Lucy and could get her in trouble he needs to bear this alone. When she is begging him to let her share the load of this. Sending him away is her setting a boundary. That he needs to think not just of her but of them. To tackle things together. To stop protecting her.

They’re both hurting in this scene. But the issue at hand still is them only thinking in terms of 'Me' not us. Even though when one of them does this it’s to protect the other. That’s fine and dandy but when it come to them as a whole it’s a problem. Shit hits the fan they eject away thinking that’s the best course of action. It’s been an issue for some time this lack of communication. This is just bringing it to a head. They don’t think how can we tackle this together? They think how can I protect my person from this? Or protect their feelings by lying.

Also think that radio being in this scene was there for a reason. That radio is the representation of Lucy not telling Tim exactly how not ok she was in 6x04. She was so willing to pretend she was ok. And instead of leaning on him. Voicing that so they could tackle it together. She ran into the line of fire recklessly instead to prove herself worthy again. Almost killing herself in the process. Because she was in her head instead of communicating to Tim. These two gonna be death of me...

Wanna hug Lucy. She is desperate for any kind of help. So she reaches out to Nolan. John per usual is completely useless for her in a crisis. Man is as useful as using a fork to eat soup. These are the moments I miss Jackson for Lucy so much. He would’ve had a much better an answer. Then just ‘you're shit out of luck.’ That’s not enough damnit.

Nolan basically saying. "What are you gonna do?' with a shrug. If I could clock you John I would. I don't normally watch the preview for the next ep till I'm done assembling my thoughts. But with this one I couldn't wait. This is why Lucy goes to Angela next week about Tim instead. She needed a real grown up to help her with Tim.

We rejoin Lucy looking at her phone. Trying so damn hard not to reach out. To be the trusting girlfriend for her man. I know we're in a bad spot but Lucy calling Tim 'her man' gah yes please more of that. I am grateful for Tamara. She needs her right now since Nolan is useless af. Lucy is trying so very hard not to spiral out atm. She confronted him and it didn't go well. Lucy is feeling at a loss right now and rightfully so. I adore Tamara for making her laugh in this moment so very much.

The lesson's Tamara has learned is too damn cute. I loved it so much. Lucy needed this moment of levity and her pseudo daughter crushed it. We pan back to Tim also starting at his phone wanting to call. Ugh Tim what are you gonna do babe? You can’t kill him. Can’t turn him in. I feel sick lol Also once again amazing song to close it out. I watch the ep with my gaming headphones on. One because I love hearing Eric’s voice straight in my ears not gonna lie. Don’t judge me ha Also catch onto music more so with them on.

But back to the matter at hand…Now do I think they’re gonna break up cause he’s gonna protect her? I don’t. Their angst since they got together has always been productive. Is it gonna hurt like a son of a bitch before we get there? Yes.

My hope is this drives them to depend on one another more and not just straight protect each other at the detriment of the one they're ironically trying to protect. Better communication which has been an issue for some time. To learn to face these challenges not only head on but hand in hand while they do so. These are the types of things they need to learn before their relationship gets any more serious than it is tbh. So while this hurts like a lot it'll be good for them in the long run.

This season has EXCEEDED my expectations ten fold. If you aren't happy with this season idk what will make you happy tbh. I said the same thing about S5 as well. I cannot wait for next week. Which I am hoping is full of worried/feral Lucy and their reunion and growth from it. Phew feel free to comment any theories or thoughts on my first take thoughts I love them so. Also thank you everyone supporting these mini reviews you're amazing and makes the effort always worth it.

Side notes -non Chenford

Ok Aaron seeing his therapist at the bar excited for him I knew low key there would be something there.

Bailey and John seem so cold I know they’re on duty but even grey held his wife’s hand at the hospital…

Of course Smitty takes his break at a therapist office

Lucy’s joke about Celina omg LOL I'm impressed with such a solid joke when she was low key worried the love of her life was dying in a ditch somewhere...

Also clearly his therapist is a lying liar who lies but how can she not be? She's his therapist and WORK one at that. Be interesting to see how this unfolds.

[captain-mj]

May tumblr endure the pain of all the angst fics on it's sight for eating your askbox.

Well then, I'm really glad you liked the Selkie!Ghost prompt I sent in :D, I loved what you did with it ^^ -X/3NH

(If you want the old prompt just tell me)

Okay new prompt: Ghost is a monster that lives under the bed and in the closets of children. Soap has been the singular person he's haunted, not by choice, just because Soap won't have a single nightmare related to him. In fact, Soap sees him as a friend.

Ghost's kind feeds off nightmares related to them, so he's latched to Soap until he can get a singular nightmare out of him. But Soap is now in 141 and he still hasn't had that nightmare relating to him.

So Ghost now protects Soap because he's grown attached.

(Do what you want w this concept, but I was thinkin Ghost takes a shot for Johnny, but gets that nightmare he wants so bad, it's about him dying in Soap's arms. Ghost's now free, free to choose another contract, but he doesn't want to get anymore nightmares, he wants to be with Soap. (also his family isn't too nice cause "he's the reason SOap doesn't experience nightmares, he's doing it wrong" (No soap is just a massive fan of monsters and doesn't feel scared around them)))

Wow thats a lot, well enjoy ^^

Hello friend! I want to say, I absolutely adore your asks and I'm sorry for always taking so long to answer them! They usually need to be a tad longer than my normal stuff and I want to do them justice! Also, did some very mild experimentation with some formatting/punctuation. Nothing super noticeable but if you notice something looks weird, its on purpose!

Also, Ghost is also a child for the first portion of this. He matures a bit faster but their age gap is only really a year (felt weird writing about an adult monster under some kid's bed)

Ghost had never, ever heard of a kid like Soap. The kid was... well. If changelings were real, Ghost would put money on him being one.

Soap regularly grabbed spiders and played with him. Not the cruel playing of little tyrants that ripped their legs off, but a genuine, loving little thing. He'd pet them and let them crawl over his hands and set them outside when they started to get agitated.

Snakes fascinated him. The first time he managed to see one at school, he came home, sat on the floor and told Ghost all about it. How the scales moved and reminded him of Ghost's arms. Then he asked Ghost if he was a snake which made him lash out and try to yank the kid under the bed.

However, since Soap feared him no more than he feared snakes or spiders or soft kittens, he just went straight through him. It looked more like he tried to pat him than anything else.

Ghost couldn't believe it. Other monsters his age were back home! Bragging! And here he was, taking way too much time.

"I'm going to kill you!"

Soap sighed. "You're always so grumpy. Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?"

"...I guess." Ghost pouted.

Soap smiled at him, radiant. Ghost wondered if he was made out of the sun.

The tea was delicious. He even got biscuits on the side.

"Why do you want me to be scared of you anyway?"

Ghost refused to talk to him about it, worried it would ruin his chances of ever going home. Soap smiled at him.

"Is it like a grade? If you scare me, you get a better grade?"

"Something like that." Ghost agreed. "I need to scare you."

"I will do my best to be scared by you!" Soap smiled at him and finished eating.

On Soap's thirteenth birthday party, far far after when Ghost should be long gone, he asked for some odd things. Horror posters and books about mythology. Ghost knew he was trying to get more information on him, probably to banish him.

Soap never did anything though. He continued to be his friend with so much ease. He also never told anyone else. At some point, Soap realized this was abnormal and instead of panicking like Ghost had hoped or maybe telling someone, he just moved on.

"We're friends. I couldn't endanger you like that." Soap had answered honestly when Ghost asked.

"We are NOT friends."

Soap smiled easily. "I'll get you to admit it one day. I promise." He gently nudged Ghost's shoulder. Ghost hadn't been touched in a while and the fact that Soap could touch him but he couldn't quite touch Soap was... weird. A little scary.

Soap smiled at him gently.

Ghost hated the day that... man put the idea of the military in Soap's head. He inspired Soap apparently. Sent him on this spiral to try to get into the military.

"Fucking hell, Johnny. The military?" Ghost sat on his bed and stretched out. His shadows had shifted from... well shadows into dark clothing. Recently, he had gotten used to adjusting them to look like a leather jacket, leather pants and dark gloves. If this so happened to be exactly like Soap's most recent movie crush, then it was purely coincidental. And if maybe, just maybe, Ghost enjoyed the lingering gazes from Soap, that was also coincidental.

He cropped up in Soap's dreams sometimes, but it was never frightening. The only reason he even knew was because Soap sometimes muttered his name in his sleep.

"It would be great! Going out there, helping people, good innocent people. Going on missions and adventures."

"Your brains being splattered against the ground. Dying. Fucking up and hurting people that don't deserve it." Ghost grinned, ignoring Soap's scrunched up face.

"Stop being such a bawbag. This isn't going to scare me so you're just doing it to be a dick." Soap hit Ghost with a pillow.

Ghost laughed and laid flat on his bed. He went quite when Mrs. MacTavish passed by, asking if either of them needed snacks. "She can't hear me, can she?"

"Course she can. Why couldn't she?" Soap tilted his head.

Ghost frowned. At this rate, he might as well just become human. He already fucking was. "How long?"

"About two years now. She thinks you're super shy." Soap explained, not understanding how terrible this was for Ghost.

Ghost dissolved, slinking under the bed.

"Wait, Ghost!" Soap looked under the bed. "Come on. Are you sad about your family again?"

"LEAVE ME ALONE."

Soap flinched and sighed. "I'll make you tea, okay?" He left Ghost alone for a bit while he did.

Ghost did miss his family. He couldn't go back until he fucking got a stupid nightmare and he was hungry because Soap's dreams were so fucking devoid of any fear. Stupid asshole.

The tea made things a little better.

When Soap finally got everything together to join the military, he was 15. Too young to actually join, but that wasn't going to stop the asshole. He planned to join and Ghost had to go with him.

The problem? While Ghost was roughly 16, he didn't have any papers saying he existed and he couldn't just wait for Soap to come home on his leaves. So he just made some stuff. Fake documents and different things. he was also very, very fleshy. Soap and him had touched hands and his skin felt the same way.

It disgusted him. He really, really hoped that while they were in the military, Soap would learn fear.

But that didn't happen.

Because Ghost was accepted and Soap wasn't.

"You're clearly too young. Try again next year."

Ghost felt his heart drop.

Shit.

This did not occur to him as a possibility.

Soap immediately started in on the man while Ghost sat there, stunned. He tried to smoke away. Dissolve and reappear miles away and back home.

His body refused. Panic flooded him.

No.

Fuck.

Ghost spent... three years? Time was weird. But he bumbled around the military. For the first time... ever, he ate what he was supposed to. Nightmares. None of them were good enough. They weren't Soap. It was better than the nothing he had been experiencing the past 19 years. That's when they reunited again.

Soap flinched when he saw him before hearing him speak and immediately brightening. "Hello... Simon."

"Hello, Johnny."

So Ghost watched out for him. He had to keep him alive and safe. Both because of his job and also because Soap needed to dream of him to set him free.

Soap still dreamed about him. Ghost could hear him speaking his name in the dark of night. Saying it with a tone that Ghost heard other people use in these scenarios. It was different than the playful manner of when they were younger. For some reason, it made Ghost's chest flutter.

Somehow, Ghost became a Lieutenant and Soap became one of his Sergeants. They worked together well and no one ever suspected it was because they were old friends.

Ghost had long since felt human. Any connection he had to being a monster gone. Even if he fed off the fear of his comrades, they weren't exactly Soap. He still had to eat human food and had human problems like cold hands.

Still felt pain.

The bullet went straight through his chest and the blood from his wound splattered all over Soap's face.

Soap's blue eyes widened. He was finally afraid.

It tasted rather bitter.

Ghost collapsed into him and Soap cradled his body. His blood covered them both.

"MEDIC!"

Soap screamed his little head off. So loud and insistent.

Ghost wanted to dissolve. Wanted to sink back into the darkness and hide under Soap's bed again.

"never wanted to join the military."

"Why did you then?"

"wanted to stay close to you." Ghost admitted, panting. His mask felt tight around his face. "it wasn't just a job for me. hadn't been for a while."

"The military?"

"No. Johnny." Ghost leaned up and kissed him through the fabric.

He finally dissolved.

His consciousness floated somewhere. It felt like home. He could still smell the soap Mrs. MacTavish used on the sheets.

Soap dreamed of him. Ghost was rather violently dragged into it, spectating whatever Soap finally put together.

The fear and adrenaline was intoxicating. Finally rid him of the awful feeling of being hungry that had plagued him for so long.

Soap held his body. It looked much worse than it was. The entire world seemed tinged with Ghost's blood.

"Please. Please. Stay with me." Soap begged, rocking his body.

Ah.

Johnny wasn't afraid of Ghost. He was afraid for Ghost.

How endearing.

The bond between them, the hold, snapped. Ghost felt himself start to spiral away from Soap, his body wanting to spin back into smoke.

But he dug his heels in.

"No." Ghost mumbled. "Got this fucking far. Can't ditch now." He had spent the majority of his life with Soap and he was realizing now that he wanted to spent the rest of it with him too.

It continued to drag him and he struggled and thrashed until his eyes flickered open to see Soap staring at him.

"You're awake."

"Fucking hell, don't stare at me like that. And I'm supposed to be the monster here." Ghost sat up, fully healed.

Soap went to stop him before pausing. "Always forget you're not human. You okay?"

Ghost nodded.

"Do you remember what happened?"

He nodded again.

"All of it?" Soap batted those damn eyelashes at him.

"If you're asking for another kiss, you can just lean down."

This kiss didn't have fabric between them.

[notahungryjoke]

Captain Domi interview

I: "How are you, what do you think about the match? Another win with a clean sheet, and another goal for you."

D: " The most important thing for me is the win with a clean sheet, me scoring a goal is secondary. I'm not at all satisfied with the first half, but I doubt anyone is, which is good, at least, we can learn from it. We reacted well however in the second half."

I: "What was the problem in the first half?"

D: "Only if I know... I don't know what happened. We made the same mistakes that we have previously discussed and promised to avoid. It was just one of those days."

I: "What can you tell us about your goal?"

D: "Uhm, funny story, because after we were done with the celebration, Lacika (nickname for Kleinheisler) told me that the only reason he lost the ball was so I could score a goal, thanks, I guess? *laughs* No, Lacika lost the ball, it happens, we reacted well, got the ball back. I saw Seffi (his nickname for Schäfer) on the wing, then I think it was Barni (nickname for Varga) who made the run [to distract the defenders], and then with some luck, but I managed to get [the ball] in."

I: "How satisfied were you that essentially it was the defenders who made the second goal happen?"

D: "We need everyone in equal measure, all eleven of us. The goalkeeper to do his magic, the defenders to do their longballs, the midfielders to keep the ball and pass to the forwards. Or in this case, a defender and a left back. Finally, even Lang used his brains, even for a defender. *laughs* (This is some kind of inside joke between them that the defenders have no brains lol)

We go match by match. We still have a lot of improvement to make, however the most important thing in my opinion is that our team is close, we are one. Everyone fights for everyone. We all have each other's back, [most importantly] if someone is going through it. It doesn't matter who is who, we are one team, and we play and fight as a team."

I: " This is your 14th unbeaten match in a row. How long do you think you can keep going and what does this mean to you?"

D: " *smiles* Only I know the answer to that... Yeah, 14 games, but as I said we go match by match. I'm glad for this streak, obviously. Even the boss [the manager] said let's keep carrying on until we can. Besides, we are at that point now, that we not only want to remain unbeaten, but we want to win every game. This is how I see it, and I'm sure the rest of the guys see it the same.``

His reaction on the stadium chanting his name: 

D: " I heard it, and I thanked them for it. If you saw me doing that, yeah, that was for them. (He sent kisses to the crowd) I'm thankful, I felt goosebumps all over my body. I hope it can happen again. "

About having to do a lot of defensive work, dropping back deep, playing as a right back.

D: "It's not really about playing as a defender, more like being everywhere, where I'm needed. Still, I hope I won't have to become a right back. *smiles* But if the manager puts me there, then that's where I will play.

About Séfi's assist:

D: "It was perfect. He carried the ball nicely, and we discussed it previously what we should sometimes do in situations like this [...]. It worked out well."

About his free-kicks:

D: " Sometimes they go in, sometimes they don't. They haven't for some time now, but surely I will have one in the net soon enough."

I: "There are still a lot of challenges waiting for you. How are you managing that, with the Euros coming up soon too?"

D: " It's not easy. I will go back to my club, like everyone else. We have a lot of matches, I will try to do my best at each one. Hopefully I can get called up for the nt if I play well enough. *smiles* That's it.  

[wexhappyxfew]

Kennedy and John with “feeling their pulse” from the prompt list? I love them already

HI ANON!!!! can i just say when i got this prompt request, i was so so excited because o m g i am so glad!!! despite the fact i don't have writing with them out yet (and their only interaction so far was a snippet from a while ago) i am BEYOND EXCITED to put this out!!! :D definitely a fun duo to write and something i'd be happy to go deeper with writing on as well! there is a LOT to unpack haha! please enjoy and thank you so much!

run along lover boy

(a/n): safe to say i could've kept writing these two in every possible way, but i held myself because alas, i have every opportunity to write more for them. so please enjoy my chaotic duo - kennedy farley and bucky egan in stalag talking about the one thing no one seems to want to talk about. enjoy!!! :D

"She's still out there." Lieutenant Bradshaw said quietly from where she stood on the opposite side of the table, her arms crossed over her chest, face both sternly held and downcast, the look in her eyes dismissive and cold, "I saw her when we dropped. She couldn't have been far from me."

Kennedy watched as Annie glanced towards Brady who stood next to her - it was unmistakable not to notice the level of protectiveness Brady had seemingly taken on when Annie showed up to the Stalag, limping and bloodied. And now, it was nearly every time they weren't forced to be apart, they were beside one another. And the look in Brady's eyes said enough these days it seemed.

"How far you thinking, Bradshaw?" Bucky said from behind Kennedy, "You jump outta those things and you're playing with fate."

"A bit more to my right. Bes was to my left, Kennedy closest. Margie was somewhere behind the three of us," Annie said softly, her voice trying to hold. Kennedy watched as Annie glanced around the group, "I tried looking for her, I really did." Kennedy watched as Annie met Kennedy's gaze before looking down again and letting her shoulders fall.

"You did what you could, Annie," Kennedy heard Brady whisper quietly, before squeezing a hand on Annie's shoulder, "that's what matters." Kennedy caught the look Annie and Brady shared, those few extra seconds they held one another's gazes.

"It's Margie Harlowe," Buck said from the other end of the table, "she's still out there. We know that."

"No body ain't a dead body," Hambone said from his own spot opposite Buck, "how far from here you think you dropped?" Annie looked to him and pulled a thinking face across her lips and then sighed.

"Had to be somewhere upwards of 50 miles. We weren't deep into Germany on the mission. Outskirts." Annie offered.

"Yeah, suicide run, if anything," Kennedy offered and sat back in her chair, "gotta hand it to Lieutenant Bradshaw though, she probably was the calmest outta all of us." The group looked to Annie who wearily smiled at the group and nodded.

"Guilty is charged." Annie said and the group seemed to share smiles amongst one another.

"Probably closer to 60," Bessie said from where she laid on one of the higher bunks, flipping through a book, "whatever it was, those Krauts are damn sins. One nearly took out my eye."

"Did he miss the goddamn Lieutenant bar on your neck?" Bucky asked her. Kennedy glanced back and sent Bucky a look who shook it off.

"Buck-" Buck started, but Bucky cut in and stepped forward.

"Any of those sick fuckos try anything with any one of you ladies, you tell anyone of us, alright?" Bucky said, meeting each of their eyes, ending on Kennedy, "You don't know how fucking brain-washed they might be. They even lay a finger on ya, I'll-"

"Hear ya loud and clear, sir," Bessie said, pulling her legs over and hanging off the bunk edge, "Kennedy popped a guy in the balls. Pretty sure we can all do what we can. In a pinch."

"Really." Buck said glancing at her.

"I'm impressed," Bucky said looking down at her from where he leaned back against the bunk, "how hard ya hit him?"

"Did he bleed?" murmured Benny from his own bunk - he wasn't tending well to the Margie news, but he was coping it seemed.

"Oh he bled," Kennedy said, leaning against the table and sending a look to Bucky, "he was on the ground. Beggin' for Ma at some point. Last time one of those Nazi-fucks tries to touch the hair on my head. You do whatever you damn please, but you don't touch the hair."

"I knew I always liked you, Farley." Bucky said with a smirk, Kennedy catching a glance of that grin in her peripheral. He held her gaze a second longer, which she quite enjoyed; the way his eyes lingered a little on her eyes and then the scar on her cheek that was finally healing.

"She's right on that, "Annie said, as Kennedy pulled her gaze from Bucky's face, "they think they can keep doing whatever they want. Don't think it's gotten through their minds yet that we don't put up with that sorta shit."

"Guess that they haven't met a member of Silver Bullets yet and they're finally learning they can't just do whatever they want," Hambone said with a chuckle as he flipped through a mangled deck of cards, "c'mon, Bradshaw, tell me what the one said again?" Annie chuckled.

"The guy said that he was overjoyed to learn that America had things like baseball and cold beer," Annie said, "what a lunatic."

"Hey, don't be knocking it now. They're the gifts that keep on giving." Bucky said, looking at Annie with a smirk, "Ain't that right, Farley." Kennedy rolled her eyes and glanced back at Bucky with a raised brow.

"For some people," Kennedy said, with a knowing look, "if you're team is actually winning, that is." Bucky smirked before looking at the group.

"That's because she's a Red Sox fan." Bucky said, lowering his voice with a chuckle, "Traded Babe Ruth and it was game over for 20 years. Still kinda is." Kennedy leaned back and took a shove at his arm with a roll of her eyes, a few of the guys chuckling around them.

"She'll show up, she has to," Annie said with a firm nod, "I'm gonna go take a walk along the perimeter. Find the Colonel," Annie shrugged her shoulders and sniffled, that damn cold doing its number, "get an eye on some of the higher ups."

"I'm coming with you." Brady said quickly from beside her and Kennedy briefly heard Bucky let out a chuckle.

"Try and figure out who the one guy was who wouldn't stop staring, alright? He got that crazy look in his eye," Kennedy told Annie and Brady watching as they pulled their scarves around their necks and their beanie's on, Annie looking much smaller than Kennedy remembered in her coat now, "taller, teetering son-of-a-bitch."

"Will do," Brady said as he followed Annie out of the room, a few of the others taking that as their note to disperse, settle onto cots or start up games of cards or chess. Kennedy let out a sigh and then turned towards Bucky behind her and raised a brow.

"Really?" she said, her voice unamused, and slightly monotone.

"What?" admonished Bucky, shoving his hands in his pockets, a big, winning grin showing on his face, "Brady's walking around like a love-sick fool, I gotta have a little fun." Kennedy raised her brow further.

"C'mon, tell me you don't hear it at night, 'It's just you and I….here….now.', and all this other lovey-dovey shit, too, Farley," he said, nodding at her, "swear if you heard it yourself, you'd lose your mind to."

"He's been crazy about her since she got here, let them live a bit." Kennedy said, standing to her feet and coming to his side before lowering her voice, "Especially here."

She looked back up at Bucky and noticed how soft his face had grown so close-up. His eyes gently resting on her own, lingering gaze, his presence something back at Thorpe Abbotts she would've scorn about, but something here she was latching onto more often these days.

Even with Bucky's roughhousing and good-natured fun, Kennedy found herself gravitating towards him more often than not these days - she remembered when she'd first come in, barely alive, hoping to get her eyes on even just one of the guys from the 100th who was familiar to her. And Bucky had been the first, pulling her from the arms of the Germans who had been dragging her, forcing her to walk as she was fighting a fever, who immediately had taken her to where the others guys had been, and gotten her soup, water, and watched over her as she rested.

Back at Thorpe Abbotts, he'd been someone she could throw a bit of flirty words and teasing nature around, just for fun.

Now, he was the one who had pulled her from those few days of being lost, sick and far from home and in the hands of the Germans.

"You have to remember the first time you were in love, John," Kennedy said as she leaned on the bunk beside Bucky and surveyed the small bunk room, "all those butterflies, that lusting feeling, c'mon, with a face like that, you oughta know." She looked to him with a grin, but instead was met with a sour-looking frown. Her smile fell.

"Seems I forgot to do that." Bucky said, reaching up to rub a finger along his upper lip and then sighed, sending her a glance, "And the butterflies, or whatever the fuck you're supposed to feel." Kennedy stared at him and waited until he met her gaze fully.

"Let me guess, you got a cushy guy back home, your Ma set up for you from the country club, and just broke a guys heart before you came out here," Bucky said, his tone falling into a somewhat jealous and distant mantra, "you don't even gotta tell me. Look at you, any guy woulda been lucky to know you." Kennedy stared at him, her heart beginning to race the longer she stared at him and his stupid pretty face.

"No actually." Kennedy said, about just as firmly and slightly cold right back, "Guys at the country club were stuck-up twits anyway. Only heartbreaking that was going on was mine." Bucky looked her way and opened his mouth, before closing it again.

"Yep," Kennedy said with a nod, "strung me on like fish to a hook with bait. Showered me in love or whatever the fuck he called it. He stole a whole lot from me that I'll never get back. Youth, whatever else." Bucky was rather intently staring at her and refusing to look away.

"What the hell was his name?" Bucky said, his jaw clenched a bit tighter, his shoulders broader as he had turned to look at her now, watching her with a look that was enough to make her insides twist.

"Stephen." Kennedy said and then shrugged, "It's stupid anyway. First love is a load of bullshit half the time." Bucky was still staring at her and she was sure anymore of looking into his eyes and she wouldn't hold back. Whatever she was feeling.

"Anyway," Kennedy said looking away and grabbing some of the canteens from the table, seemingly catching Bucky off guard with her sudden dismissal of the conversation, "I'll go refill some of the water. I'll be back." With that she turned, heart pounding.

"Wait, Farley-" Bucky said, reaching out to grab her free hand, his large fingers clasping around her wrist, his hand hot, sending goosebumps all over her form. She turned to him and watched as his wheels turned, trying to figure out whatever he was thinking of saying.

"I shouldn't have said that about you - the country club bullshit, and he sounds like a complete asshole. Steve - whatever the fuck his name was." Bucky said and then righted himself, his grip loosening, but not free, "I'll come with you. To get the water." She stared at him, mildly surprised, but almost not. He'd been giving her that quiet look for days now. Whatever it meant. Enough it made her pulse race. And she knew he could feel it. Kennedy smirked at him and then reached forward, pulling her hand from his loose grasp and grabbed a few more canteens and placed it into his arms.

"How chivalrous." she said, before giving him a smile and heading out the door. Bucky stood there silent for a moment, and was left with a snort from Bessie on the top bunk.

"What?" grumbled Bucky, glancing over towards the woman - whom he hadn't realized was still here nor paying attention. Bessie chuckled and flipped a page in her book and smiled.

"Nothing." she said with a chuckle, before glancing over at him, "Run along, lover boy."

[magnifythesun]

Absolutely loved ur latest prompt about Anthony picking Ian up and how you stick true to their characters it feels too realistic. On that note, since I'm an avid fan of protective worried Anthony, would you pls write something with Ian passing out while filming and Anthony hyperventilating over it.

aaaa this prompt has had my mind spinning since I first read it I'm so hyped to write it! and thank you soooo much, I tried really hard to keep their voices realistic in that one and I'm honestly very happy with the way it turned out! I'm so glad you enjoyed!! :D

(post-writing note: this turned out way more comfort than hurt lol, but it was just too cute to resist!)

It was a rager of a hot day in southern California. They were filming their latest sketch, which was unfortunately entirely outside, and were eager to just get the thing done.

"Should we take a break?" Anthony asked, "It's been a few hours out here, and this heat's really killing me."

"Let's just finish up this scene," Ian said wearily, his face slightly red from the sun.

Anthony nodded in agreement and turned to tell the crew to set the cameras at another angle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ian suddenly drop like a sack of potatoes, one second standing, then not. It was almost like a bit. It would have been funny, except that the way he ragdolled to the floor sent a horrid chill through Anthony. That was not the way someone fell on purpose, for comedy or otherwise. Anthony turned.

"Ian?" He said, distantly.

Erin was already running toward him, holding her huge water bottle. "Someone bring a sheet!" She called over to the crew, who, behind the sudden haze in Anthony's vision, were little blobs scurrying to and fro, some toward Ian, others running toward the house.

Anthony stumbled over. "What happened?" Erin glanced up at him. "Is he all right?" Her eyes widened at the way he was swaying on his feet.

"Don't you pass out too!" Erin snapped, voice tight with worry. "Go sit down." She waved toward the shade by the house.

"But, Ian," Anthony started. He swept his eyes over his friend, who was starting to stir. Ian's eyelids flickered, then opened as he started to wake up.

"Ow," He groaned, raising a hand up to clutch at his forehead. "Oh wow, my head hurts really bad."

"Like you hit it?" Erin asked sharply, then looked back up at Anthony. "Anthony. Go sit down."

Anthony took an involuntary step backward from the command in her tone alone, then kept backing up until his back hit the side of the house. Tears jumped to his eyes, and he knew in that moment he needed to get out of sight. He went inside the house, ignoring the way different members of the crew were reaching out to him, worry in their voices, and headed straight to the bathroom. Closing the door, he sank to the ground immediately, trying to breathe.

His breath was tight in his throat, like a great beast had a hold on his neck and was squeezing him. The sensation traveled down to his chest, causing him to gasp quick, shallow breaths as he tried to wipe away his tears.

Was Ian alright out there? His mind was spiraling as he desperately sucked in little gasps of air. He had just left him there, too wrapped up in his own frightened reaction to comfort his friend. A pang of guilt burned bright in his chest. He had to get this under control and he had to get back out there.

Anthony focused and started his yoga breathing routine that he used every time he exercised. Slowly, slowly, he controlled his breathing. He stood up shakily, and glanced in the mirror, making sure to wipe the tears from his eyes. There was nothing he could do about how pale he looked, or how red-rimmed his eyes were.

He took one more deep breath and pulled open the door to the bathroom. Walking out, he could hear many voices in the kitchen, which was out of sight. Sounded like most of the crew had taken shelter from the sun in there.

Anthony turned toward the living room and startled. Ian was sitting there, a wet rag on his head and Erin's big bright blue bottle of water clutched in his hands. Anthony felt his breath catch in his chest again.

Anthony walked over to him. "Hey, man. You feeling okay?"

Ian smiled guiltily up at him. "Well, better now," He glanced up at Anthony towering above him and patted the couch cushion next to him. Anthony sat. "I should have called a break sooner. I could tell it was getting to me."

"You don't need to push yourself that hard," Anthony said quietly.

"True," Ian's mouth quirked. "Plus the crew deserved a break too." Ian stared off in the direction of the kitchen for a moment. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly, fingers shifting on the pastel surface of the bottle.

Anthony grimaced. "Yeah, I'm good."

Ian turned to look at him, a sharp look in his eye. "Uh-huh."

Anthony intently examined the table in front of the couch. "You saw?"

Ian took a big gulp of water. "I may have just woken up from the consequences of my own hubris, but I, I caught a glimpse."

"Sorry," Anthony said quietly, "I really don't know what came over me."

Ian didn't say anything for a moment, just slurped another sip of water. Anthony couldn't look at him. Then, Anthony felt Ian's hand, cold from the surface of the bottle, rest on top of his own hand and squeeze slightly.

"Always good to know you care." Ian said lightly, the veneer of a joke over his words, but the slight drag of his thumb over the back of Anthony's hand emphasized his words.

Relief and affection rushed through him, and Anthony glanced at Ian. "Your head okay though?"

"When is my head ever okay?" Ian laughed, "But yeah, I didn't hit it. Water?" He lifted the bottle and offered it.

"God, yeah." Anthony took it with the hand that wasn't still covered by Ian's and took a long, refreshing drink. "I can't believe we still have to go back out in that to finish filming."

"Ugh, don't even remind me," Ian groaned.

Right then, Erin's voice called from the kitchen, "Alright, back out there to shoot in ten minutes!"

Various shouts of "Heard!" echoed around the house, accompanied by several grumbles.

"I gotta lay my poor heat-stricken head down for a few minutes before we head back out there," Ian said.

"Oh okay," Anthony said, preparing to get up to let him lay down, when Ian just tilted his head slightly to rest it on Anthony's shoulder. Anthony stilled, his breath catching for the nth time today.

"I'm gonna try to visualize myself in the Arctic," Ian mumbled, "Quiet on set."

Anthony tried to not shake his shoulders as he laughed. "Alright, alright. Make sure to get back from your polar expedition in ten."

Anthony let himself rest his eyes too, the warmth of Ian's hand and head soothing the last of his rattled nerves.

[factual-fantasy]

Hello Factual! Thanks a ton for answering my last question regarding your acquiring of your Pokemon- the quirky stories attached to their origins make them all the more memorable and lovable! And alongside that, thanks for drawing the full party together in your most recent post! Their personalities were all fleshed out really well in such a simple set up, and as always it's impressive that you kept your art style practically identical despite the transition to paper!

If you don't mind, since I've got the ball rolling at this point- I wish to ask your thoughts on two somewhat more well known Mario enemies than the last pair- and inquire as to their placement in the AU- starting with the jumping dangers from another game- the Ninji!

Ever since their strange "dream" debut in Super Mario Bros 2, they, like many others from that game, have become recurring staples of the main games- always being shown as quick, jumping warriors who work primarily under Bowser. But do you think these goofy little guys would work in the AU? They probably wouldn't be directly affiliated with your mostly Koopa centric Koopa Troop- but perhaps they could be a small band of dangerous assassins, known to do business with the Troop- for the right price- eliminating targets using more "Ninja" like techniques, rather than just jumping...

And the other I wished to mention could prove either very easy or very difficult to implement- another creature hailing from SMB2- the bullet spewing shy guy look alikes- the Snifits!

You of course already have shy guys in the AU, living in seclusion in Shy Guy Woods- but would there perhaps be any Snifits among them? Even in the most recent movie, Snifits have always been shown commanding their weaker Shy Guy Cousins- though their exact biological connection has never been explained- how would you explain it? How would their strange, biological bullets work? Would they live alongside the shy guys, or just live somewhere else entirely? If anywhere at all? And most importantly- would they still have an obsession with hosting game shows, as all the spinoff games show!?

Thanks as always for taking the time to answer our Asks despite your health troubles ( which I sincerely hope are getting better now ) and I'm glad answering them makes you happy! I've obviously been asking a lot of Mario questions lately, so let me know if you want me to ask about a different AU for a change- I just love Mario so much! ( Your awesome AU especially! )

(First post in question) (Second post in question)

No problem! :DD I had a lot of fun making those. And thank you! It certainly isn't easy to keep my style consistent on paper. But hey, at least it's keeping my mind busy! 😅

When it comes to the critters you sent.. I've actually never heard of the first one! 😰 I'd have to do some thinking about where those guys would fit in my AU..

Now for the Snifits, I did see them in the Mario movie. So I am aware of them! But where to put them.. hmm.. I can see myself taking the idea of them, rather than the actual functionality of them.

What I mean is, there could be "higher ranking" shy guys amongst the tribe. And they could wear these black masks instead of white ones. Perhaps they could make use of slingshots or some kind of projectile to keep with the theme..? :0 I'm unsure, but it's definitely something to think about!

And no worries about too many Mario questions, I'm having a lot of fun with them! Thank you for sending them! :D And thank you for the well wishes. I'm hoping that all of this mess is finally over soon 🙏🥹...

[prince-liest]

The specific phrasing of “hurt very pretty” is. I knew before this series I was more into the soft sadism/dom thing but it’s soooo rare to find someone who does the exact flavor I’m into and I think that phrase in my head sooooo often

Ahaha, I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I've always really liked, as you describe it, soft sadism, where it's about the intimacy, the connection, and the sort of delightfully recursive loop you get when the suffering is enjoyed, and the enjoyment of the suffering also contributes to the suffering, whether it be via enthusiasm or humiliation. Funnily enough, despite the kind of stuff that I write, S&M that feels genuinely callous and miserable is fully capable of squicking me if it hits just wrong. I really like writing sadism that feels tender, even when it's violent.

Five more asks under the cut! If you sent something about 666 in the past 24-ish hours, it's probably there!

Your newest channel 666 fic had me so mixed on how to feel "Oh ok they're drunk and Al's on his lap... that wasn't in the tags oh no vox isn't advancing... nevermind he's electrocuting Al, i get it, a little something to get the blood pumping oh no wait he's actually electrocuting him oh good lord he's screaming in pain"

Hahaha, god, tagging this chapter was really a fucking nightmare - if there's anything you think I missed that's important to include, PLEASE let me know, because I tried to cover my bases but I really had to give up after a bit. It's just One Of Those Chapters and the first time I've used the Graphic Violence archive warning for something that was just fully consensual sexy times, haha. I hope it was at least enjoyable overall! Alastor certainly had a good time.

I've binged your 666 series and it irreversibly changed my brain chemistry It's more canon than everything that happened in the show itself to me - @grimfeywizard

Ahhhh, thank you so much! >:D I definitely tried to mimic the style of canon for the characters, especially for the first installments before they kinda went their own way character development wise, haha. I'm glad you like it!! <3

I was at a convention all weekend and when you updated BOTH times I snuck out of my group and into a corner to read them I am completely obsessed with this series 🙏🙏🙏 -@urlocal-cryptid7

Omg, glad to add the cherry on top of your con experience, hahaha. Thank you so much!!

hey there, just wanted to say i’m absolutely enraptured with the 666 series! it’s absolutely amazing and one of my favorite fics out there right now. i’m always looking forward to it and checking for updates, great work!!!!

Ahhhh, thank you for the kind words!! I'm really enjoying writing it in all of its weirdnesses, so it's always so nice to hear that people are enjoying the odd directions it goes!

Another fun radiostatic song: The Masochism Tango by Tom Lehrer - @butwhyaretheycalledstrawberries

This is 100% what I had playing in the car on repeat when I wrote one of the previous installments, hahaha. It's a fantastic radiostatic song, especially with the level of sadomasochism I write into 666.

(Anon who was awaiting the drunk Alastor shenanigans here) Me, pre-installment 8 of 666: Oh My God, it’s happening. Everybody STAY CALM- Me, post-installment 8 of 666: *ugly sobbing* it was everything i could ever hope for, your honor. The Prince(TM) is good and merciful. So yeah, expectations met as always 👍

Omg, ehehehe - drunk Alastor was honestly SO fun to write, because it's just... taking away a lot of his worries and inhibitions, and the behaviors that normally accompany them. I took what Mimzy said about him being a kitten when he's had a few drinks and lets loose and ran with it, and it turned out very enjoyable. I'm glad you also had a good time reading, hahaha!

[cowgurrrl]

Kiwi

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: as I was writing this, I proclaimed in the most southern accent, “now we’re cookin’ with peanut oil!” so do that with that

Summary: Joel goes home for a month. You stay in California to work. What could possibly go wrong? [3.8k]

Warnings: HEAVILY implied casting couch culture, brief allusion to creepy Hollywood producers, yearning, I can’t think of anything else!!

Boarding my flight now.

Thanks for letting me know?

Well, I texted my mama to let her know, and she told me to text "that girlfriend of mine."

Doesn't sound like she's a huge fan.

She'll live.

You like the message and go to put your phone away when it buzzes again.

Is it weird that I kinda miss talking to you?

You smile and ignore your name being called over the intercom for another beat.

There are a lot of weird things about you, Joel Miller, but that one feels the most normal.

Text me when you land in Austin. Tell your mom I said hi.

You tuck your phone away, fighting the stupid smile on your face, and look up to see a pissed-off PA walking towards you. You apologize and half jog to the sound stage where Ryan is waiting. 

"The perfect punctual queen is late for once? Is the world going to shit?" He asks, and you slap his arm.

"People are allowed to be late."

"Does your lateness have anything to do with your boy toy?"

"Are you ever gonna call him by his name?" You ask. He senses that you're stalling his question and take a deep breath. "Joel is flying home to Texas today to visit family and get some work done. He'll be gone for a month."

"Oh, how will you ever survive?" He pouts, and you give him a look. The director calling for places stops you from responding, but you threaten him with the promise of picking up the conversation later. 

You don't ever get to tell him off for suggesting that you can't live without Joel being in the same state because of how late shooting goes. It might've been exhaustion, but you swore that you saw the sun starting to rise over the horizon by the time you finally got to leave. You knocked out a good chunk of the scenes you were still working on, which is great news, but you were mentally and physically drained. You slept most of the next day and missed Joel's messages from one whole time zone away. 

Landed.

Jesus Christ, I forgot how hot it is here.

My mama told me to ask you if you go to church since she doesn't believe me.

Attached: Two photos

You laugh as you sleepily scroll through his texts when you wake up mid-afternoon, feeling a little bit better from your long night. One of the pictures he sent is of him sitting in the cab of an old truck with the caption, "This was my first car. I can't convince my dad to sell the damn thing." The second is a blurry photo of a blue-looking weed on the side of the road surrounded by what looks like thousands of other blue weeds. "Turns out the state flower will literally grow anywhere besides in a pot in my house."

A) I'm glad you made it in safely. B) Isn't Texas the armpit of the South? C) I don't go to church, and I never have, but please feel free to lie to her. D) I can imagine a young, emo Joel Miller driving it now.

He reads your messages almost as soon as they deliver, and your screen lights up with his initials as he calls you. You yawn as you pick up and hear chatter in the background of wherever he is.

"First of all," he starts in a determined tone. "Texas ain't the armpit of the South. That's South Carolina." He says. He hasn't even been in Texas for forty-eight hours, and his accent is already thick again.

"My mistake," you laugh. "Did you have another point, or was that it?"

"Second of all, why d'you sound so tired?"

"Obviously, I was out partying with strange men all night."

"Really?" He asks, and you scoff.

"No, Joel. Filming went really late yesterday. I don't think I got home until six this morning."

"Sounds intense." 

"Not as intense as being interrogated by your mother," you say, and he hums. You hear someone laughing in the background and relish in the joy that you're not there to witness. He doesn't say anything for a minute, and you wonder if the line dropped, but when you pull the phone away from your face, you see the call is still active. "You really miss me so much that you called me just to sit on the line?"

"Maybe I did." He says. You take a deep breath and glance at the clock on your bedside table. He's two hours ahead. The sun must be setting by now, casting gorgeous rays onto his skin and making his eyes look amber. You wonder what Texas air does to Joel's soul. Maybe it soothes him like only an old baby blanket can. Maybe it makes him jumpy, like he's waiting for a clap of thunder that never comes. Maybe it makes him wonder why he left in the first place. You wish you could be there to read his expression and try to decipher what he's thinking. Someone calls Joel's name in the background, and you hear him shuffle with the phone, probably covering the microphone with his hand because the voices become muffled. When the phone comes back to his ear, he takes a deep breath, and you do the same. "I gotta go. Can I call you tomorrow?" He asks. 

"I'm counting on it, Miller." You say, and he laughs before mumbling a good night and hanging up the phone. 

After that, it becomes a habit for Joel to call you every day from Texas. He'll tell you different stories about his parents, how Austin has changed since he left, and update you on how the newest album is coming. He listens to you rant about work, how tired you are, and how frustrated you always get toward the end of a project. Sometimes the conversations last ten minutes, and sometimes they last hours. One night, you fell asleep on the phone with him because he was trying to get your opinion on a new song, but you had spent the day filming the scene of your character giving birth, which was tiring in its own right. He doesn't chide you for it. He just sends you a goodnight text and promises to call you the following night.

You hate to admit it, but production speeds up with Joel out of town. You end up wrapping your scenes a week early while Ryan still has another couple of days of filming his scenes. You'll probably get called back in for reshoots in a few months, but you feel really good about the work you put out there, and you finally get the chance to rest before Melanie sends you more scripts to read over. You send Joel a photo of your open laptop and a glass of wine next to it as the California sun sets over your balcony. 

Wrap parties are looking different as I get older.

Don't worry. I'm sure you'll still be a drunk, no matter how old.

Asshole.

Lashing out is the first sign of a bigger problem. I think I should call Melanie.

You laugh and search for the middle finger emoji when he sends you another text.

Paul got me on the list for some charity event this Saturday. Want to come with me? He said it'd probably be better to get some more dates in sooner rather than later.

The reminder that this is all fake shifts your entire mood. Of course, it's always lingering in your mind, but the texting didn't feel fake. The late-night calls didn't feel fake. He didn't feel fake. In fact, this is the first time you feel like you have a sliver of an idea as to who Joel Miller actually is when he isn't selling out world tours and recording platinum albums. It's stupid for you to feel this way. You have no reason to. No right. You take a deep breath and type out a message.

Sure.

On Friday, you drive to the airport to pick Joel up, creating an over-the-top scene of you running and jumping into his arms. His hat falls off his head and onto the ground as he catches you and kisses you sweetly. When he sets you back on the ground, he doesn't let you go right away. He lingers in your arms, and even though your feelings are still hurt and you're still trying to remind yourself that this is all fake, you let him. He smells like a detergent you don't recognize, but underneath that, you catch a whiff of the cologne he always wears. You rub his back as you hold him in the middle of the airport. 

"'S really good to see your face," he says into your neck, and you nod. 

"You too."

As you drive him home, he brings you up to speed on how the album is coming along and how different Texas was when he was there. You tell him about the last few days on set and an upcoming press junket in New York City. He lights up when you tell him the dates as you maneuver through LA traffic.

"I'm scheduled to go to New York to work with my sound mixer that same time. He's got his own studio out there now and knows more about it than I do," he says. "Maybe we can fly together? Make it look like a couple's trip?"

"Sure," you say. He furrows his eyebrows at your lack of excitement, and you scramble for something else to talk about. "How are your parents?" You ask. The rest of the ride to his house goes off without a hitch, and he kisses you again as he gets out of the car, both of you highly aware of the car full of paparazzi that's been tailing you since you left the airport. He promises to pick you up at five the following night, and you just nod. When you get home, you walk calmly into your house, lock the door, and scream.

Joel's hand is in yours as you wait for your turn to walk the carpet. You're not sure why there's a red carpet at a charity event, but you're not about to throw a fit about it. Joel is wearing a sleek black suit, and you're matching with a long black dress. It's a low-cut backless dress, and a sparkly necklace your stylist picked out rests against your sternum. Joel taps your hand, and you look at him.

"You okay?" He asks. He looks worried as he steps between you and the wall of photographers waiting for you to stand and pose perfectly for their photos. "You've been quiet the past few days."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired. I think I'm still recovering from that last week of filming." 

"Are you sure you're not gettin' sick?" He asks, raising his other hand to your cheeks like he's checking your temperature. You smile half-heartedly and swat his hand away.

"I'm sure," you say. He tries to say more, but someone with a clipboard gets your attention and asks if you're ready. You nod and step onto the carpet, holding Joel's hand. The press erupts into a cloud of noise, startling you and making Joel laugh. You slap his chest and plaster on your rehearsed smile. You do your best to look where all the photographers are yelling at you to look and try different poses so they can get what they need. Everyone has to make a living, you suppose. You just wish their salary wasn't at the expense of your privacy. 

You get halfway down the carpet, taking pictures as a couple and some solo shots, before one of the photographers yells a new command. "Can we get a kiss?" He shouts. You pretend not to hear him and show off how the dress dips down your back, hugging you in all the right places. Still, the photographer is demanding a kiss, and now others have joined in too. It feels very "dance, monkey, dance," but you do your best to grit your teeth and smile. You catch Joel staring at you when you turn. It could be the flashing bulbs of cameras or how he's looking at you, but his eyes are sparkling, and the creases in the corners make you melt just a little. 

You hold out your hand for him to join you, which he happily obliges, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close enough for him to kiss your temple. "You alright?" He asks against your skin as you rest a hand on his chest and look up at him. You nod and glance between his eyes and his lips. The chorus of people practically begging for a picture of you two kissing is growing, and you raise your eyebrows at him. 

"You gonna keep them waiting, or are you gonna kiss me?" You ask, the playful lilt reserved for him returning to your voice. He gives you a look and smirks before leaning down a pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Everyone ooh's and aw's at you two, but you only care about how fast his heartbeat is against your palm. You want to blame it on the anxiety of walking the carpet and having people scream at you to do whatever they want. No, you have to blame it on that. There's no other option.

When you finally get inside, Joel gets you a glass of wine and a mixed drink for himself. The event is sweet and goes by quickly as you listen to people talk about something they're so passionate about. You decide to donate some money under an anonymous name once you are all excused to the reception, where there's food, more alcohol, and dancing. Joel leaves your side to catch up with some musician buddies, kissing your cheek before disappearing into the crowd. 

You nurse your wine as people you've never met start conversations with you. They're all polite and ask about your newest project, how LA's been treating you, and what's up next for you. You can't reveal much due to the NDA you signed at the beginning of shooting, but you tell them how excited you are for them to be able to see it and admit you've got some auditions lined up in the coming weeks. You've probably given the same answers to a handful of different people when you realize you're out of wine and Joel is still missing. You scan the room for him, but you can't find him. That's fine, you think. It's not like he's obligated to stick to my side at all times. He can have his own life.

You sigh as you belly up to the bar and order another glass of wine. You almost make it a double when someone taps your arm, making you turn. "I don't mean to interrupt, but you look exquisite tonight. I just thought you should know," ultra-famous producer Richard Pike tells you. You blink at him, your brain struggling to catch up with the fact that one of the men who's made the most award-winning films in the past twenty years just noticed you. "I know everyone has probably told you that tonight, but-"

"Oh, no. Thank you. I'm sorry. I was just a little starstruck right then," you apologize before holding your hand out to introduce yourself. He takes your hand and kisses the top of it. It's very dramatic, but this is Hollywood we're talking about. Your glass of wine arrives, and he pays the bartender before you can even reach for your purse. 

"Women as gorgeous as you should never have to pay for a drink. Ever." He says, and you laugh.

"I mean, I won't argue with you on that," you say, taking your glass in your hand to clink it against his glass of scotch. "Thank you, Mr. Pike."

"Please, call me Richard," he insists. "You just finished another movie, didn't you? You're a very busy girl."

"Yes, sir. I'm already looking for new projects to audition for." 

"Oh, I remember when I had actors audition. See, that was before I started writing roles for specific actors. Some people call that crude or playing favorites, but it hasn't failed me yet." 

"No, sir, it hasn't."

"So formal! Yes, sir! No, sir! Are you like this with everyone?" He asks as he takes a big swig of his drink.

"Just people who can cast me," you say. You're partially joking, but it's enough for him. He laughs, and his hand lands perfectly on your exposed back as he cackles loudly. You force yourself to laugh along with him and suddenly get that sinking feeling in your chest. Everybody seems to strategically look away from you two at the bar, and you want to be anywhere but here. 

"You know, I've seen a few of your movies," he says, getting close to your face like he's telling you a secret. "I think you've got a lot of potential. With just a little coaching and one great role," his hand dips lower down your back, and you freeze. Ice water runs through your veins, and everything is screaming at you to run away, but your heels stay planted against the expensive hardwood. "We'll make an Oscar winner of you yet."

"Excuse me," a familiar drawl says behind you. You both turn and make eye contact with Joel. "May I steal my girlfriend for a dance? I promised her one on the way over." He asks, but he's already wrapping an arm around your waist, ready to pull you away. The hand on your back disappears and claps Joel on the shoulder.

"Of course! You take good care of this one!"

"Yes, sir," Joel says as he pulls you to the dance floor. Your heart is still beating in your throat, and you feel like you could cry, but Joel's looking at you with such kindness. You find safety in him as you wrap your arms around his neck and slowly sway with him, the soft material of his dress shirt calming you down. He waits until Pike is out of earshot to lean down to talk in your ear. "Now, I know you don't need me savin' you like that. Are you sure you're okay?" 

"He's one of the biggest producers in Hollywood. He could tank my career in a single email. You want to be the one to yell at him?" You ask. "If I said or did something, he would've doubled down, but he respects you more. He backed off because, in his mind, I belong to you."

"How do you know?"

"I've dealt with people like him before. They're all the same old men who think they can offer you a legacy on a silver platter if you fuck them. I've gotten enough advice from other actors to know how to handle them. Let them get touchy but find an out before it can go too far. Stroke their egos so they feel good about themselves. Basically, do whatever to keep you and your career safe."

"I thought stuff like that didn't happen anymore."

"You and everyone else in the world. Things don't just magically change because one guy goes to jail." You sigh. 

"I'm sorry," he says, and you shake your head. 

"It's fine."

"No, it's not. You shouldn't have to deal with that."

"It was one of the first things people told me when I started. They said it was something I might just have to… endure but that the weight would get easier to carry. One actress even told me that it was the price we have to pay because everyone wants to be us," you chuckle. He doesn't interrupt you; he just stares at you with apologetic eyes like he would take this burden from you if he could. You almost believe him. "I don't think that's true. I think most people would hand this lifestyle in the second it got too real."

"What would you do if you weren't an actor?" He asks, and you shrug.

"I always thought about being a teacher. Sure, the pay is shit, and the work is thankless, but kids are our future, you know? There's something really special about shaping young minds."

"Sounds nice."

"What about you? What would you do if you weren't doing this?"

"Probably something with my hands. I worked as a mechanic for a while, and I really liked that. I liked how it was a big puzzle that needed to get sorted out and fixed up."

"Why'd you stop?" You ask. 

"I needed to grow up. My dad owned a contracting company, so I worked with him until I saved up enough to record my first album. And that was that."

"It's crazy how we fought so hard to get to where we are, and now that we're here, it's..." You trail off, trying to figure out what you want to say.

"Terrifying?" He suggests, and you nod. "Yeah, I'm terrified every second of every day."

"You don't act like it." 

"I don't act like a lot of things that I should," he says. He stares at you so intently that the rest of the world fades away. You don't hear the song die down or the applause erupt around you as the band takes a bow. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest. You know how crazed it is. He wets his lips before stepping back and trailing his eyes down your dress and back up to your face like he's taking you in for the first time. "You really do look beautiful tonight." You swallow around the lump in your throat and smooth your hands down your dress, suddenly self-conscious. 

"Thank you." You mumble. 

Pictures of you two kissing on the carpet and dancing inside are circulating online before you even leave the event. You wake up to a huge batch of texts— one from your mom, two from Joel, six from Ryan, and one from Melanie about your trip to New York that you barely read. You would've stayed in bed wallowing in your own bad luck if there wasn't a sharp knock on your door. You groan the whole way down the stairs like it will help you greet whoever has decided to show up at your house at eight in the morning, but nobody's there when you open the door. 

Instead, a bouquet of flowers in a lovely vase sits on your mat with a note sticking out. You glance down your street and barely catch a delivery truck turning down the block. You carefully take the flowers into your kitchen before plucking the note between the petals. 

Pretty flowers for a pretty girl - JM 

(PS bought these of my own volition)

"Goddammit," you mutter under your breath as you think about his lips on yours, his soft shirt, and his stupid fucking, "I don't act like a lot of things I should."

[rainofthetwilight]

LEVI LEVI

In addition to Evil Arin, another thing that is potentially the saddest of all is if you compare his situation with the rest of the kids.

He always wanted to be a ninja, Sora and Wyldfyre didn't, and yet they're still "better" than him. They manage to contribute to the team more easily because they have powers while he has to work twice as hard to feel useful with a skill that he hasn't even mastered yet.

Sora finally found a real family on the team, Wyldfyre still has Heatwave (and she has begun to get closer to the team), but Arin can't allow himself to feel happy there because his parents are STILL missing.

The others can allow themselves to be happy with their new family, but for him, the guilt is overwhelming because his other family is still missing and he feels like he is failing to find them and be useful to both sides. And it's unfair because the one thing everyone keeps telling him that makes him a valuable member of the team (being a spinjitzu prodigy) is no longer enough to keep up with everyone else.

I want you to know that all your posts has inspired me to make a short comic of the poor boy because I love the potential angst of this so much

USGKRKKWJDJSKRJSWSHHSJAWJ YOU ALL REALLY WANNA KILL ME W/ ALL THIS ANGST HUH

UGHBBFBDBDFBJF THIS??? ALL OF THIS????

HE ALWAYS SO BADLY WANTED TO BE AN NINJA IT WAS HIS DREAM...AND WHEN BE DID HE FEELS UNWORTHY AND FEELS LIKE HE CAN'T CONTRIBUTE, WHILE SORA AND WYLDFYRE EASILY DO BC THEY HAVE POWERS...AND THE ONLY SKILL HE HAS WASN'T ENOUGH...

UGDHHDJE HE'S SO FULL OF GRIEF AND TRAUMA AND WHILE HIS CLOSEST FRIEND HAD MOVED ON AND ADJUSTED TO HER NEW LIFE, HE WAS STILL GRIEVING AND MOURNING WHAT HE LOST...

like. Oh my gosh. do you see how much happier and playful sora is in s2? she's so more animated, more cheerful, more like herself, as she finally let go of the past. so when you compare her to arin this season, who's grief has been attacking him in every waking moment, who everytime he speaks he's full of nothing but hopelessness and denial, still having his past haunt him more than it ever did. he still cannot find his other family, he still can't adjust, while sora already did, letting go of the other...

and wyldfyre, she still has her own family while adjusting to the new one, and she's happy! she's so happy, she has good dynamics with them (especially with kai), and is even told by rontu how much potential she has!!!

while arin, who's whole dream was to be a ninja, to be useful and worthy, was immediately crushed. the skill he was once praised for is now suddenly not enough, it's suddenly too weak and sloppy and unmastered. while sora and wyldfyre easily fit in, despite them not wanting to do anything w/ the ninja at first, he's still off in the corner, the jealousy consuming him even tho he doesn't want it to

they easily adjusted to their new families, while he still can't, because just like you said the guilt is overwhelming him so so much because he still can't find his other family and it hurts. he feels useless to both families, literally the first thing he said when he thought he saw his parents was that he wasn't good enough dude...

and all of these? these are all motives for him to snap, to crack his facade and become someone no one knew before, his self doubt absolutely eating him up and he succumbs to ras's words about the ninja holding him back....

oh my god I'm actually INSANE for him bro SHDHSKDJJAJS....POOR ARIN DUDE THIS SEASON HAS PUT HIM THROUGH THE WRINGER 😭

ALSO I'M GLAD I INSPIRED YOU!! :D you better thank everyone that sent the asks for that, you are all feeding me with all this angst bro 😭 also would you mind tagging me when you finish that comic? 👉👈 👀 I need more arin angst despite the fact I'm about to explode rn OUDHDHS