#love beau's enthusiasm

[vongole-biankou]

Reunion hype 🤩

[vettelsdarling]

𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐞

Lissie note… Here’s the second winner of the poll. I stupidly duplicated him💀 but just tallied those numbers together. Also yes, I’m trying out new layouts rn so please lmk if this looks great or not<3

Summary: A photographer from the heart of NYC has been in a low-key relationship with Lando Norris for a while now…

————

Things to note:

Reader is a menace tbh

Lando and reader are separated by 2 yrs

Reader is a known photographer (just not famous yk)

————

Pairing: Lando Norris x Photographer!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Playlist recommendations: 𝐋𝐍𝟒, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @ophcelia, @darleneslane, @allwaysalleyway, @littlesatanicassholebitch

Twitter

yourusername

Liked by yourbestfriend and 253 others

yourusername What a great day to change my pfp on my Twitter😮‍💨

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yourbestfriend Isn’t that the camera I got you last Christmas?

yourusername Merry Christmas ig

yourbestfriend The enthusiasm🥰

yourusername WOW!?!???!!!! IT REALLY IS THE CAMERA YOU GAVE ME LAST YEAR AHHH I STILL HAVE IT CAUSE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

yourbestfriend Nah now it doesn’t feel genuine😒

Liked by yourusername

landonorris

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 847,733 others

Tagged: yourusername, mclaren

landonorris What’s up 2023?🧡

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user1 The photos are better this year wtf😮‍💨

user2 He looks amazing regardless

user3 YESSS IT’S BACKKK LET’S GOO🧡🧡🧡

yourusername Ty for the tag, great working w/ you

Liked by landonorris

user4 Ty for blessing Lando’s face

user5 She’s a magician with a camera😩

user6 Danny isn’t racing this yr right?😞

user7 Yeah he isn’t😭😭😭

user8 Ugh MCLAREN WHYYY

user9 I’m manifesting🫡

user10 Actually so delulu I made a mood board consisting ONLY of Lando😃

user11 At least you’re self aware💀

Twitter

yourusername

Liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris and 373 others

Tagged: landonorris, mclaren

yourusername Tbh I feel kinda bad for knowing next to NOTHING abt f1 but I’ll just do my job and whatever to pay rent in New York🤡 Last resort is the pole (not position😞)

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yourbestfriend 💀

yourusername Are you implying I wouldn’t be a great pole dancer?🤨

yourbestfriend Honestly? Yeah🥰

yourusername Bitch.

landonorris I didn’t even realize you’d take this many pics

yourusername Welcome to your new life (I sound and look like a fucking stalker rn wtaf)

yourfriend WTF YOU NEVER SAID YOU PHOTOGRAPHED LANDO NORRIS????

yourusername Surprise!!😻

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,194,290 others

Tagged: yourusername

landonorris Checking out the credentials🤨

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yourusername At least I’m better than you🥰

landonorris You make a fair point… it’s your job😒

user1 Bffr rn😭

user2 Wdym? it’s his designated photographer. I think she’s a part of the team cause McLaren hired her

user1 Wait really?

user2 …yeah💀

user3 The way I love this new photographer😩

user4 Yeah she’s good. She’s well known in the photography world as one of the best in nyc

user3 Wtf that’s such an honor

user5 IS THAT HER??? 10 bucks they’re dating but not telling us

user6 Nah that’s too quick💀 They JUST hired her like this year.

user7 I’m excited for her shots in Miami

user8 I’ve seen some of her stuff at her gallery. Some of it sells for more than a month’s salary

user9 Her instagram is private😔💔

user10 It’s always been😭😭😭

f1gossip

5,367 likes

f1gossip New beau, Lando?👀

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user1 HUH WHAT😃

user2 They are just friends they are just friends they are just friends

user3 stfu what is this😭

user4 That looks a lot like yourusername

user5 💀

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend and 271 others

yourusername Luckily this account is private💪 Hope they don’t find my very not private Twitter💀

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yourbestfriend Good luck😭

yourusername ty, I will not need it😩

landonorris what is this Twitter you speak of🤨🤨🤨

yourusername Nothing👽

f1gossip

2,378 likes

f1gossip Looks like Lando’s girl has Twitter👀

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user1 Wtaf I love her

user2 Ever wondered she might not want it leaked💀

yourusername Oh… wow…😐

user3 OFMHSK IT’S YOU

yourusername In all my glory😮‍💨🔥

user4 I love how she’s literally just like everyone else and not some snob😭

lando.jpg

Liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, infour and 927,382 others

Tagged: yourusername

landonorris Who would’ve thought it was possible to post your own paparazzi photos?!

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yourusername Holy shit, this is revolutionary🤯

Liked by landonorris

yourusername Why don’t the media just hire me to take better pics of us🤡🤡

landonorris Ikr

user1 Nah I’m loving this

user2 They are really handing the media’s ass on a silver plate💀💀💀

user3 This is pure gold😭

user4 I thought Kika and Pierre were my fav but Lando and her just raised the bar

user5 Honestly lmao

user6 why aren’t more wags like this

user7 Publicity probs

user8 Publicity doesn't make sense because she’d fear it too..?

user7 Nah I actually don’t think she cares very much💀

user9 You guys keep doing you, this is amazing.

yourusername Hell yeah😩

Twitter

yourusername

Liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 563 others

yourusername We’ve been around👯‍♀️

Tagged: yourbestfriend

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yourbestfriend FUCK YEAH WE HAVE

yourusername Ugh we should travel together sometime

yourbestfriend We should

landonorris Where was my invite?

yourusername Nonexistent.

landonorris Wow. I feel so insulted.

yourusername

Liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 63,278 others

Tagged: landonorris, yourbestfriend

yourusername Welcome to my Instagram, peasants. Above, you can see a little bit of everything I serve on here (and yes, I do SERVE).

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yourbestfriend Hot

yourusername I know

landonorris ❤️

yourusername tmrw is our 1 yr anniversary.

landonorris Did you think I forgot?

yourusername Yes

landonorris You’re not wrong…

user1 1 YEAR WHAT????

user2 They hid it for so long😭

user3 I’ve been waiting ages to finally gain access to her Instagram

yourusername thank you, loyal plebe.

user4 2nd pic is me during exam season❤️

user5 Literally same

user6 She’s living my dream fr

yourusername I must be very powerful, then

user7 Skin care routine???

yourusername Random shit from drugstores

user8 She’s so down to earth but classy in a funny way. How tf do I even explain her😭

yourusername I’m an enigma

user9 Lando is lucky wtf

yourusername Right?

user10 No but you and Lando compliment each other so well

yourusername Ty<3

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1,037,278 others

Tagged: yourusername

landonorris For a whole year, you’ve given me everything I’ve ever needed. A fun and breezy outlook on life. You’re just amazing. I love you and I didn’t forget about today❤️

Comments have been limited

yourusername I’ll let it go for today. Only because I love you too❤️

Liked by landonorris

maxverstappen1 Congrats you guys👏

Liked by landonorris

yourbestfriend Feels like yesterday I told you how to get her attention😔

Liked by landonorris

carlossainz55 Congratulations guys, enjoy yourselves today🍾

Liked by landonorris

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞���𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

*Please note that liking the taglist will not put you on it!

[dewdropdinosaur]

Well Ain't You A Looker?

ALASTOR x (F) READER

Summary: You and Alastor are from two completely different worlds, eras even. So what happens when you try and maybe understand his world a bit more?

Warnings: NONE

If you would like a GN version of this, feel free to ask!(REQUESTS ARE OPEN, see pinned post for details)

This is based off a request from the dearest @anon-of-the-void

Y/N and Alastor had always been inseparable. From their time of meeting to an interesting friendship and now as they donned a romantic relationship, almost nothing had kept them apart. Their relationship was a whirlwind of laughter, shared musical interests, and undeniable chemistry. But there was always an unspoken barrier between them – the gap of time separating their worlds: Alastor being from the 1930s and Y/N being from the early 2000s. 

Often one would use terms, mannerisms, or speak of time relevant events that left the other utterly confused and needing clarification. This tension often accompanied dinner, walks around Hell, and even small talk in the Hotel. While both were a great match, it certainly wasn't one made in Heaven. As their relationship approached its six-month mark, Y/N found herself curious about Alastor's origins. She longed to understand the era from which he hailed. Determined to bridge the gap between their worlds, Y/N sought guidance from Rosie the Overlord, a figure well-versed in the ways of the past and a very good…if the only…friend of Alastor. 

And so, after a few weeks of secret planning, Y/N found herself in the bustling underworld, making her way to Rosie's domain. The Overlord welcomed her with open arms, her peppy demeanor softened by genuine curiosity. Rosie, intrigued by Y/N's eagerness, took her under her wing. Secretly relishing the chance to indulge her penchant for mischief, Rosie adorned Y/N in elegant 1930s attire, complete with a brown dress and a cloche hat. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, Rosie schooled Y/N in the art of 1930s slang and mannerisms, eager to see her impress her demon beau.

"Ah, so you're the lucky one who's captured Alastor's heart," Rosie remarked with a knowing smirk. "Well, darling, if you want to understand the 1930s, you've come to the right place."

Meanwhile, Alastor, with his keen senses, couldn't help but notice Y/N's newfound enthusiasm for his era over the past few weeks and her sudden absence. He observed her with silent amusement, marveling at her determination to understand his world. Yet, beneath his composed exterior, Alastor's heart swelled with affection for the woman who had stolen it. No one had quite done anything for him like Y/N did, so imagine his surprise when one evening, as the crimson hues of dusk painted the sky, Y/N made her grand entrance. 

Adorned in her vintage ensemble, she exuded an air of timeless elegance, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence. Alastor, lounging in his parlor, couldn't tear his gaze away from her.

"Darling, what's all this?" Alastor inquired, his voice a melodic blend of curiosity and admiration.

Y/N flashed him a dazzling smile, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. "I wanted to understand your world better, Alastor. So…I sought Rosie's help."

Alastor's grin widened, a glint of pride shining in his crimson eyes. "Well, ain’t you a looker?" he chuckled, extending a hand to his beloved as suddenly his microphone decided to play some tunes as if from an old LP. 

As they waltzed across the room, Alastor couldn't resist whispering sweet words of encouragement to Y/N. "You may be from a different time, my dear, but your beauty transcends all eras."

With each step, their love blossomed, a testament to the timeless nature of their bond. For in the depths of Hell, amidst the chaos and despair, Alastor and Y/N found solace in each other's arms. As they danced to the crackling tune of an old record, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging in Alastor's world and he found a sense of belonging in hers. And as they laughed and twirled through the night, she realized that, no matter the time period, their love would always transcend the boundaries of time and space.

[justabigassnerd]

Playgrounds and Injuries

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 2,187

Warnings - blood, little splash of angst, mostly fluff

Summary - you hurt yourself while your dad is busy, but a couple of people come to your rescue and your dad dotes on you

A/N - hey y'all I actually wrote a fic in a decent amount of time like what is this?? I loved writing this anon request because y'all already know I'm a sucker for MavDad. I won't ramble anymore but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

“Alright squirt, we just need to go to my office so I can grab some stuff and then we can head home.” Maverick says to you as you cling to his hand, walking alongside him as you cross the Navy base to the building where Maverick’s office resides. As you approach the building, your eyes drift to the playpark that sits directly opposite the building and you tug at Maverick’s hand gently, pointing it out.

“Can I play in the park, daddy?” You ask already trying to walk towards the park, only being stopped when Maverick stays put, his grip tightening ever so slightly to ensure you don’t walk into the road. He stayed silent for a moment, eyes flicking between his office building and the park. They were close, and he knew he could see the park from his office window. He also knew he was only running in to grab something so you wouldn’t be unsupervised for a long period of time. Maverick knew it was probably against his better nature, but he let out a small sigh and walked you over to the park, opening the gate and letting you enter.

“y/n, I need to grab something from my office. Stay here in the park, okay? I’ll be right out.” Maverick says, crouching down to be at your level so he can get his instructions across clearly and thankfully you nod in understanding.

“Okay, daddy.” You say, smiling sweetly as Maverick pulls you into a quick hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“That’s my girl. I’ll be right back.” Maverick promises, straightening up and leaving the park after watching you dart over to the climbing frame. Maverick heads straight for his office, racking his brain for where he left the stuff, he needed so he doesn’t waste time. When he reaches his office, he glances out of his window and sees you happily entertaining yourself on the slide and a small smile graces his face seeing you playing so happily. After watching you for a minute he focuses himself on the task at hand and he tracks down the paperwork he needs to work on before next week rolls around. After gathering up what he needs, he begins to exit his office almost walking directly into Cyclone in the process.

“Maverick. What a pleasant surprise.” Beau says, hardly any enthusiasm in his voice as he looks down at Maverick.

“Cyclone. What brings you here?” Maverick replies, raising an eyebrow slightly as he looks at the Vice Admiral. Maverick was sure he had a family of his own, so why was he in the office?

“I could ask you the same question. Don’t get many people coming in on the weekend.” Beau then says as he folds his arms across his chest.

“Just needed to grab some paperwork but I really need to get go-”

“Actually, while I have you here, I have some things I need to go over with you.” Beau spoke over Maverick, already beginning to launch into a conversation Maverick did not have the time or the effort for.

Meanwhile, you were playing in the park, able to make fun for yourself as you waited for your dad to return from the building opposite. The base was practically empty, aside from a small handful of Navy personnel who wandered around.

As you went down the slide for at least the tenth time, you tripped as you climbed off the slide and landed rather harshly on your knees, cutting them open on the rough ground. At first, you remained on the floor, shocked at what had just happened before your knees began to sting and your eyes welled up. You sat back, inspecting your bloody knees through teary eyes before looking in the direction of Maverick’s office hoping your dad would emerge and come to your aid. Instead, aid came in the form of two other people.

“You keep saying shit like this and Mav is going to make the training harder you know?” Bradley says with a slight chuckle as he rolls his eyes at Jake’s latest tangent about how he feels he’s progressing beyond Maverick’s training.

“Can’t help it if it’s the truth, Bradshaw.” Jake retorts with a laugh as both of them cross the base. As they pass the park, Bradley glances over at Jake to say something else and pauses when he sees a child sitting on the floor in the park and no other adults in sight.

“Bradshaw what are you-?” Jake asks as Bradley crosses the road, approaching the park and picking up the pace when he realises it’s you.

“It’s y/n!” He calls over his shoulder which encourages Jake to follow after him, both men entering the park and crouching down in front of you.

“Hey, kid. What happened?” Jake says softly, noticing the cuts on your knees before straightening up slightly, looking around for Maverick as you sniffle, trying to compose yourself.

“I fell. I want daddy.” You whimper, hands pressing down on your knees harshly as more tears dribble down your cheeks.

“Where did Mav go, y/n/n?” Bradley asks softly, gently lifting your hands off your knees so he can inspect the injuries on your knees. You remove one of your hands from Bradley’s gentle grip and point in the direction of the building you had watched your dad head into not too long ago.

“I’ll go and find him. You stay with the kid.” Jake says, standing up after exchanging a look with Bradley. He knew Bradley was one of your favourite people aside from your dad and that Bradley was practically an older brother to you. At Jake’s words, Bradley nods and watches as Jake exits the park and makes his way into Maverick’s office building. The second Jake is out of sight, Bradley focuses his attention back on you and starts trying to calm you down and distract you from your injuries.

Inside, Maverick was just about ready to get up and leave after being carefully herded into Cyclone’s office to listen to him droning on about his new training ideas after shooting down Maverick’s own ideas. Then there was a knock on the door, halting Beau mid-sentence.

“Come in.” He called towards the door, his face displaying his displeasure at being disturbed. Maverick turned towards the door, curious to see who was knocking at the door and was somewhat surprised to see Jake on the other side.

“Sir, I need Maverick.” Jake says, still standing to attention despite neither man being in uniform, the action coming purely out of instinct.

“You can relax Hangman. Why do you need Maverick?” Beau asks, leaning back in his chair as the younger pilot visibly relaxes upon being given permission to do so.

“y/n fell over and hurt herself in the park. She wants her dad.” The moment the words left Jake’s mouth, Maverick was on his feet and leaving the office without so much as a goodbye and Jake was quick to follow after him.

“What happened?” Maverick asked as the two of them walked through the corridor.

“I don’t know exactly but me and Bradshaw found her in the park crying and her knees are bleeding, so my best guess is she tripped and fell.” Jake explains as best he can while following Maverick towards the door.

“Bradley’s here?” Maverick asks, briefly halting in his tracks to look at Jake.

“Yeah, he’s with y/n right now.” Jake says, quickly averting eye contact and continuing to walk to avoid Maverick potentially questioning why Bradley and Jake had been hanging out together. He wasn’t ready for any relationship stuff to come clean just yet.

“y/n!” Maverick called over the moment he exited the building, catching sight of you sitting on Bradley’s lap as he sat on the swing, swinging ever so slightly as he wiped the few remaining tears from your cheeks.

“Daddy!” You call out for your dad, reaching out towards him as Bradley stands up, keeping you in his arms as he brings you over to your dad.

“Oh, what happened, sweetheart?” Maverick says softly, inspecting your knees gently before Bradley transfers you from his arms to your dad’s.

“I fell.” You whisper, your voice still thick with tears as you talk.

“Well I’ve got you now y/n/n.” Maverick coos gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and glancing over at Bradley.

“I would’ve cleaned her up, but I didn’t have anything.” Bradley says apologetically watching Maverick hold you and pepper your head in kisses.

“It’s okay, Bradley. Thank you. Both of you. You looked after y/n, and you saved me from spending hours trapped in Cyclone’s office on a Saturday.” Maverick thanks the two men, each of them letting out a small chuckle at the thought of Maverick being banned from leaving Cyclone’s office.

“You don’t need to thank us. She wanted you so we got you. It’s the least we could do. She’s a good kid.” Jake says softly, extending a hand towards you for a high-five which you give to him with a small smile.

“Alright, I’m going to take her to get cleaned up, so I’ll let you two get on with the rest of your day.” Maverick says, bidding the two men goodbye with a friendly wink before heading back into his office building and successfully making it into his office without being found by Cyclone.

“Okay y/n/n, you sit right here while I find the first aid kit.” Maverick says, sitting down on his desk and placing his papers beside you before searching the room for the first aid kit, holding it up triumphantly when he found it and smiling at the little giggle that escaped you upon seeing your dad’s actions. Maverick places the first aid kit on the desk and opens it, quickly locating antibacterial wipes and some plasters to put on your knees.

“This is going to sting a little, but I promise I’ll be quick.” Maverick says gently, pressing a kiss atop your head as he removes the wipe from the packaging and works as quickly as possible on cleaning your knees.

“It hurts, daddy.” You whimper, tearing up when the stinging sensation spreads across your knees.

“I know sweetheart. I’m almost… done!” Maverick says, quickly withdrawing the wipe, tossing it aside and grabbing a couple of plasters, placing them over the cuts and pressing a kiss atop each one, promising you that his special kisses will help the plasters make you feel better. Once he’s finished, Maverick throws out all the rubbish, returns the first aid kit to where it was before and then scoops you up in his arms, making sure to grab his paperwork too.

“Let’s head home, how’s that sound?” Maverick asks as you nod, winding your arms around his neck and cuddling close. Maverick exits his office and carries you out to his car, strapping you into your car seat before getting behind the driver’s seat and making the journey home.

When you make it home, Maverick parks the car in the driveway and grabs his paperwork before heading to the backseats and moving you from your car seat to his arms and carrying you indoors. He sits you down on the sofa before putting his paperwork down on the table, so he knows to come back to it later and then heads into the kitchen to grab you a snack and a bottle of water before returning to you in the living room and sitting himself down on the sofa alongside you.

“Can I watch Paddington?” You ask quietly, already clambering onto your dad’s lap as he winds a protective arm around you to keep you close.

“You can watch Paddington.” Maverick replies softly, willing to do just about anything to make up for the fact he wasn’t there when you hurt yourself. He puts the film on and leans back on the sofa, letting you get comfortable before cuddling you close as the movie begins to play. Maverick holds you as the movie plays, smiling as you let out little giggles at the bear’s antics on tv.

Eventually, about halfway through the movie, the events of the day begin to catch up to you and you begin to drift off to sleep, placing your head on your dad’s chest, right where his heart was so his steady heartbeat could lull you to sleep.

It took Maverick a couple of minutes to notice that you had fallen asleep, only noticing when he felt your grip tighten on his shirt which prompted him to look down and see you curled up against him fast asleep which Maverick swore could’ve melted him down into a puddle right then and there.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Maverick mutters, running a hand through your hair and kissing the top of your head before settling back further into the sofa cushions.

Maverick’s own eyes soon started to drift shut and he didn’t fight them for a second. He had his little girl curled up against him and he didn’t need anything more or less.

[willows-escape]

Love, Love, Love | AHS Tate Langdon x Reader

Pairing: AHS Tate Langdon x Reader

Summary: You died. A pity. You were stuck in a house filled from the basement to the attic of people past who'd met their untimely fates. A pity. Your boyfriend, the love of your short life, stopped talking to you; spending his time hanging out with the bane of your existence. Violet. A pity.

Warnings: you die, terrible communication skills, angst to fluff, smut smut smut, reader tries to be in charge- tate nips that in the bud quickly though, restraint, oral (fem receiving), banging on the basement floor lel, they get caught, creampies, slight make up sex, tate makes you taste yourself haha whoops, jealousy, tate and violet bein friends- she forgave him and whatnot, he makes a jokey reference to what he said about f-ing violet in the show but that’s just because it’s tate

You were cold. So, so cold. Desolate and drained of life, splayed out and unnervingly still on the floor beneath you. Your own dead body was casually propped in front of you, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Another milestone in the traumatic circle of life in which you lived.

You heard pitiful sobs ringing out alongside hushed whimpers, 'i'm sorry, i really tried. I promise.'

'It's okay,' you murmured, words hushed and tension building in your throat.

'I still love you.'

But did he love you?

You found yourself pondering this question lately, eyes narrowed and lips bitten to shreds as you silently sat on the floor of the attic. It was safe to say you were relatively adjusted to the whole being dead thing now, having made yourself acquainted with all the other lone spirits wandering the house.

'Come on, Beau, gimme a turn with the ball,' you smiled, watching the small boy prod, push and throw the small toy around in glee. It was heartwarming watching him be so happy and in his element, but also it twisted your guts knowing why he was doomed to the fate he shares with you.

Eager to play with you, the ball was quickly pushed along the dusty, splintered floorboards. You reached out to it, but the enthusiasm behind Beau's push caused it to roll further and faster than you'd anticipated. Giggling, you pushed yourself out of your cross legged position and followed the ball to the entrance.

The attic door was open, meaning the ball had fallen from the attic floor to the hallway beneath you. You knew that since you were a ghost you could technically just materialise yourself in any room you wished to be in, but you had a habit of trying to stick to doing things the traditional way when you could help it.

'Tate, don't be an asshole,' you heard a familiar voice snicker beneath you, accompanied by a boyish laughter that somehow always managed to set fire to your skin. Except this time, your skin prickled, your faux blood tingling as if your veins were flowing with lightning.

'You know you love me, Vi.'

Even with another girl, Tate still managed to be the only thing to make you still feel alive.

Your mood had effectively been soured, the ball no longer of your concern. You disappeared, ignoring the confused whining of the little boy behind you. You felt too betrayed to care.

If there's one thing that ignited your nerves, it was the shrill screams of children. The sound had you bristling on edge, agitated and digging your nails into the palms of your hands. The affection and care you held for kids didn't apply when they were crying their little hearts out.

'Are you okay, Nora?' you asked sympathetically, watching her grimace at the infant laying in the cot beside her, as if she were looking at the devil himself. The baby was crying out, for what you didn't know, but it didn't seem like it was going to chill out anytime soon.

'I don't wish to look at it,' she stood up, hands wiping themselves against each other as if to rid herself of the suddenly dirty germs of her child. 'Where's Vivienne?'

'Having a family night with Ben and Violet,' a new figure peaked up, the hauntingly familiar voice turning your taste buds sour and causing your saliva to run dry.

Shaking her head in irritation, she tossed a blanket in your direction before turning to exit the main area of the basement, 'I'll be back once it's calmed.'

You groaned. Not only had you been left with a small, screaming child, you were also sitting in front of the man who hadn't properly spoken with you since your death- and had clearly moved on just fine and dandy. As if you'd meant nothing.

Rage simmered in your chest, begging to slip off your tongue and rear it's ugly head at the object of your anger. But you kept yourself collected, it was no use sobbing until your lungs collapsed or beating him with your fists as you unleashed the pent up sadness and confusion you held.

And not only that, this was only time you'd been near his vicinity since your death, and yet he was still only talking about her.

There was an awkward silence drifting between you both, feeling his coconut coloured eyes raking over you as you stood up to attend to the responsibility you'd been left with. You lifted the baby into your blanketed arms, humming a familiar lullaby as you rocked back and fourth gently. The crying didn't cease.

'Do dead babies need diaper changes?'

Your lips pursed. The first words he felt worthy of saying to you after your death... was asking if ghost babies could piss and shit? You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, what else could you expect from him? That was the boy you knew, as dense as ever.

'Nope,' you responded blankly, 'You've been dead longer than me, would've supposed you'd have figured out dead people don't have functioning organs by now.'

'I dunno, but babies are babies. What else can they do except shit, eat and sleep?' he mused, his relentless gaze still lingering on your figure.

'Well, now he's only left with eating and sleeping.'

The silence settled in once more, and you tried to ignore how much you loved having his attention. You bitterly reminded yourself that if it weren't for the Harmon's spending time together, he'd leave you to be with Violet in a flash.

'I'm sorry.'

'Whatever for?' you inquired, voice light and airy as if you didn't understand why he felt the need to say such a thing. What could he have possibly done to feel the need to apologise?

You heard a disgruntled sigh from behind you, his frustration clearly becoming too overwhelming to contain. Good, you thought, be annoyed. You couldn't give less of a shit.

'Can we just go back to normal? Please?'

Normal?

Normal.

He, all of a sudden, felt as though it was time to go back to normal? After abandoning you, choosing another over you, betraying you, he felt it was time to pull on his big boy pants and act like all of this just never occurred? You'd known he had a slight fear of rejection, but you never expected him to have the audacity to not even face what he'd done wrong. To ignore it and attempt to sweep it under the rug, as if it were just a dry spell in your relationship that meant no harm.

You scoffed, placing the no longer crying angel back into his crib. You brushed back the few strands of hair he possessed, before looking to face the antsy man behind you. The nerve.

'Can't do, sorry.'

You walked off, disappearing as Nora came back to attend to her baby. Loving him conditionally once more, returning to care for and treat him as her own- on her own terms.

Much like somebody else you knew.

'I don't know what to do,' Tate groaned, 'I don't know how to get her to talk to me again, y'know? She's just like, gone cold. Like I don't exist.'

Ben Harmon sat across from him, arms crossed as he listened to the boys ramblings. It was almost entertaining how Tate had seemed to have gone full circle, and yet didn't have the self awareness to realise he was back where he started. No longer obsessing over his daughter, thank god, but another girl who'd enraptured him. Another girl who was, funny enough, also trying to cut contact with him.

'We can't force people to do thing's they don't want to do, Tate. If they don't want to talk to you, then that's their choice. They don't owe you a conversation.'

'Don't you think I know that?'

It was also funny how even though Ben had vehemently refused to ever see Tate as another client in his life, or in his death, here he was. Sitting across from the pouting man child who had begged him for help one last time, promising that this would be the final occasion where he'd ask for his assistance. For some peculiar reason, Ben didn't believe this would be the last.

'Is this week the first time you tried to talk to her?' Ben questioned, the unfortunate realisation sinking in that the situation was more hopeless than he thought as Tate nodded his head. 'Why?'

'I dont knowww,' he whined, head thrown back and eyes closing as he reveled in his self pity. 'I just, I don't know, I was scared.'

'Scared?'

'I feel like she died because of me, like I failed her. Like she'd have been better off without me meddling in her life, so I thought why meddle in her afterlife too? She didn't need me making her even more miserable.'

'Did she give any indication that she actually thinks this way of you, Tate?' His brows furrowed as he took in what the blonde boy was saying, trying to make sense of how he'd come to this conclusion in his sick head. Sick being the keyword, of course his thought process made no sense. Tate's mental state wasn't normal by any means, so it took jumping through plenty of loops to try to understand him.

Many, many loops.

'I mean, no,' Tate fiddled with his fingers, looking down at his hands as he tried to hold back his tears, 'I fucked up.'

'Yup.'

'Do you think I can fix it? Like I did with Violet?'

Ben paused his thought process, staring the boy in his eyes as he spoke through gritted teeth, 'Violet? What have you been doing with my daughter?'

'Nothin', nothin'' Tate quickly reassured, raising his hands in surrender, brushing off the older man's piercing stare. 'I have my eyes set on y/n now, me and Violet are longgg gone. Still cool to hang out with though, yesterday we-'

'I don't want to know what you've been doing with my daughter.'

'Gee, relax. I fucked her once, years ago,' Tate scoffed, rolling his eyes as he chuckled, 'She was a great time for a virgin though, she was sooo wet-'

'Enough,' Ben seethed, standing up out of his leather armchair as he walked towards the door. He opened it, pointing in the direction of the hallway.

'Hey, I was just messing with ya,' Tate softly spoke, trying to diffuse the situation. He didn't really mean what he said about Violet, his numerous encounters with you had made everyone before you seem as if they never happened. He just wanted to get on Ben's nerves a little, like the good times. Plus, Tate couldn't leave yet, Ben hadn't solved his problem. And he'd rather get gunned down dead again before leaving the office without a plan of action to get you to reconcile with him.

'Tate, you know what your problem is?' Ben approached him, hands making aimless gestures as he continued his rant. 'You don't have boundaries, you don't think of the affects of your words and your actions before it's too late. Consider people's feelings more and you wouldn't be in this situation for the second time.'

'Well, ow,' Tate cringed, face scrunching up as he took in the mean spew of word's Ben had thrown at him. He knew he didn't deserve niceties, but that didn't make his harsh words sting less.

'I won't repeat myself, Tate. I want you out.'

Reluctantly and with an angered scowl on his face, he disappeared.

'Fucking talk to me!' He cried, arms tightly clutched around your frame, holding onto you as if you'd vanish if he let go. You gritted your teeth at his sobs.

You tried forcefully removing his desperate arms from around your body, but your efforts were useless as they only spurred him to cling tighter. His salty tears were soaking the white fabric of the dress you had died in, your nose scrunching as you felt the wet patch press against you unpleasantly.

'Where we you when I wanted to talk?' you angrily mumbled, struggling to even lighten the grip he had purchased around you. You were stuck, and you knew there was no point wasting your strength. He was a stubborn boy.

'I'm sorry, okay,' he hiccuped, his breath hitching in his throat as he babbled on aimlessly. You understood a small fraction of his words, not even enough to string together a sentence, but enough to gather what he was trying to convey. You really didn't want to have your resolve shattered, but if you had to listen to his pitiful pleas any longer you were going to snap.

Snap, as in, take his soft cheeks in your hands and give him a fat smooch, and forgive all the heartbreak and pain he'd put you through recently.

But, you wanted to hear him beg a little more. You were quite cruel. However, there was a small, nagging fear in the back of your mind you'd needed relieved.

'Tate, what about... what about Violet?' you softly asked, your voice barely audible under your breath. You were scared, so fucking scared. What if he immediately let you go upon realising what you said, coming to his senses as it dawned on him that Violet really was the better option? That you weren't enough for him after all?

You knew enough of Tate and Violet's history to be aware that they'd been something once before, something intimate and that there had been a shared attraction between the two. You didn't know the extent, nor did you wish to know all the details, but there was something. And that was enough to have you on edge.

'Violet?' Tate looked up at you, tear stained cheeks gleaming and red as he sniffled. 'What- did Violet say something to you? Whatever it was, it was a lie! Is that why you didn’t wanna talk? Violet?'

'It was nothing that Violet did,' you stated, running your hand through his poofy, blonde locks for comforts sake. For your or his comfort, you didn't know.

'Then why?' his voice cracked as a sob escaped his throat, his head nuzzling deeper into your hip. He was on his knees beside you, puffy eyes, lips and cheeks pressing against you.

'You're just always with her,' the mental wall holding the sea of emotions you were harbouring collapsed, your cries matching his as you slid to a sitting position. Tate didn't let you go, keeping a firm grip on you as you joined him on the floor. 'You seem so happy together, and you haven't spoken to me since, well- you know when. And you and Violet used to be a thing, and I heard you say that you knew she loved you when i was upstairs in the attic one day and I just-'

'You're stupid,' Tate chuckled through his tears, arms adjusting to bring you against his body in a loving embrace. You felt the safest you had in a while, coddled in his arms against the wall of the basement. It was peaceful.

'I just need to know, Tate,' you brushed his fringe back as you gazed into his eyes, the love you'd left bubbling under the surface of your being, threatening to explode out of you. He was so beautiful, and you were yearning to let him know. 'Violet or me? I'll forgive you for not talking to me, won't even ask why you did all that. I just need-'

'You.'

You smiled, pulling his stupid, pretty face towards you to indulge yourself in what you'd been missing. His love.

Although, you still wanted to make him beg.

'Why'd you stop?' he huffed, nudging his face towards yours to capture your lips in another heated kiss. He'd gone so long without you, and right now, he was feeling selfish. He was intent on taking all of you.

'Proving I can make you feel better than Violet,' you laughed at the forlorn expression etched across his face, his hands tightening their grip as he attempted to pull you into him. He wanted you to become one with him. He wanted you so bad. Needed you.

'Babyyy,' he whinged, tugging on the material of your dress. You didn't move an inch. Now you'd made up with the love of your life, you were going to make sure the next hour of the rest of your relationship was going to start with a bang.

'Take your pants off.'

A goofy smile spreads across his lips, his grip untangling from around you as he reaches down to undo the zipper of his jeans. His hands were ready and brisk, making quick work of his clothing as he slid it down his legs. He'd been waiting for this since the last time you'd made love.

That was a part of the difference in how he viewed you and Violet. Violet was a quick fuck, an easy release, a one and done kind of deal- if he had known your pretty little ass would've waltzed into his life, he wouldn't have touched her like that with a ten foot pole. They were similar, true buddy material, but you were the breath of fresh air he needed. The change of pace he craved. You kept him sane, while Violet ignited his instability and made him lose himself. He hated losing himself.

You reached out with your right hand, your left keeping you stable and upright while you kneeled in between his spread legs. Fire was accumulating in your tummy, your arousal twisting and enkindling your insides. You saw the appendage beneath the flimsy material of his boxers twitch, a small wet stain signalling his desperation. His cock throbbed as he waited in anticipation for you to finally make contact with his aching hard on.

You traced just around the outline of it, watching his eyes as they followed your hand going round and round his dick. He needed your hand, mouth, cunt- anything, he just needed to feel you touch him. He'd missed your touch more than anything.

'Please?' he cheekily peered up at you, biting his lip as he smirked. You rolled your eyes at him, reminding him you weren't going to give him what he wanted unless he begged. Properly.

He entertained your false sense of dominance for slightly longer, until he saw your hand nearing the dripping mess between your legs and he'd immediately decided he'd had enough of the teasing. He wasn't going to get left out of the fun.

Before you could even process the change in position, you were knocked onto your back and your hands were pinned above your head. That was fucking hot, even if you were slightly winded. If Tate wasn't situated snug and firm between your legs, you'd be rubbing your thighs together, desperately searching for friction against your clit.

'Woah,' you giggled, smiling up at Tate as he frantically kissed down your cheek to the bare skin of your neck. His hands trailed down to your parted thighs, sneakily making their way beneath the flimsy skirt that was doing little to nothing to hide your clothed mound.

He toyed with the lace of your underwear, getting back at you for the torment you put him through not moments before. He watched as you bit your lip and rolled around impatiently, wanting his fingers in your dripping folds, rubbing and soothing the ache in your pussy. He just laughed at your insatiable need, leaning closer to cover your lips with his as he finally pushed past the barrier keeping you two agonisingly apart.

‘Oh, shit-' you moaned, trying to relieve your hands from the relentless grip your sweet boyfriend currently had around your sore, red wrists. You never knew pain could feel so fucking good. The fingers of his free hand were exploring every inch of you, tentatively circling your hole before rising up to your sweet bundle of nerves. He loved watching you fall apart beneath him. It was addictive.

Smothering his fingers in the flowing essence dripping from your hole, he bought them up between the two of you as he once more parted from your plump, swollen lips. Your cheeks warmed at the pruned state of his hands, eyes entranced as you noticed the way your arousal dripped down him. He alined his fingers up to entrance of your mouth, words that didn’t need to be spoken aloud hanging off of the edge of his tongue. Your eyes widened.

‘You- you want me to—‘

‘Open.’

One word was all that needed to be said for you to scurry to fulfil his orders. You parted your lips as he requested, watching as he lowered his fingers past your opening before laying them flat against your wet muscle. ‘Suck.’

Eyes fluttering shut, you wrapped the ring of your lips around him as you tasted the manifestion of your excitement. It didn’t as taste as bad as you expected, sweet even. You laughed mentally as you recalled all the fruit you’d love to indulge yourself in when you were still alive. Must be that.

You lapped your tongue over his digits, moving your head back and forth as you took every inch of them that you could. His breathing was becoming laboured, watching you as you sucked him in as if he were a lollipop for you to feast on. He quickly removed himself from your mouth, shuffling further down the floor until his hot breath was right above where you wanted him the most. He tugged your underwear down your legs, wrapping his arms tightly around your thighs as he hurriedly dipped his head between your soft thighs.

His tongue was cold as it came in contact with you, sending you jolting as he devoured everything he could get his lips on. Your wetness smeared across the lower half of his face as he pushed his lips closer against you, taking every little drop you were giving him. Your moans and whimpers spurred him on, his greed taking over as he meticulously circled his tongue around your sweet spot. His hips had a mind of their own, pathetically rutting his cock against the basement floor as you pulled him closer by his mess of hair.

You can feel him moaning against you, the vibrations sending sparks through your sensitive area as you squealed in surprise. You tried to pull away from his ministrations, but the grip on your thighs kept you anchored to his persistent hot mouth.

Kissing down from your clit to your needy hole, he trailed his tongue around the ring of your cunt before pushing past the barrier into your dripping warmth. You cried out, unintentionally clenching around him, legs quivering as he tongue fucked your hole as if it were his dick.

Speaking of his dick, it was feeling very lonely and like it wanted in on some of the fun. Finally pulling away from between your legs, he moved forward until he was face to face with you.

‘Hi,’ you laughed, taking in his blissed out appearance. His lips and the tip of his nose glistened, his cheeks pink and pupils dilated. His hair was a poofy, untamed ball on the top of his head, showing signs of your tugging and pulling from how it had knotted together.

‘Hey, greetings and salutations,’ he smiled back, placing a firm kiss on your lips. You deepened the kiss as you wrapped your arms around the curve of his neck, your heart soaring as he enveloped your body in his arms.

The sounds of your wet lips smacking together filled the air, your mind oblivious as you lost yourself in the way his soft lips felt against yours.

‘A-ah, what-‘

You felt something prodding at your entrance, his squishy tip forcing your walls to spread around him. You gasped, feeling your insides stretch to accommodate his average size. You certainly weren’t expecting that.

Taking the opportunity as it presented itself, his tongue slithered it’s way into your mouth without a second thought, twirling around yours as you shared spit. He slid inside of you inch by inch, groaning into your mouth as he finally bottomed out. He could feel your cervix kissing his tip, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy. He missed this- missed you.

Supporting his weight on his palms, his arms rested against your head as he dragged his hips slowly back and forth. Usually your love making was a lot more intense, rough. It was pounding that left you sore for days with a limp in your step. But right now, you were both making up for the days you’d been without each other. Right now, you needed each other more than you needed to finish.

You could feel his balls making contact with your ass as he thrusted in and out of you, your vaginal walls stretching and tightening as he entered and left you. You feel so fucking full with him inside of you, realising how much you missed being stuffed with everything he had to give. Your juices were dripping down his cock, watching droplets of sweat gather on his forehead as he worked you both closer to your orgasm.

‘Can I hold you, please?’ you looked up at him, not missing the way his eyes clenched shut before dropping onto you like a bag of potatoes. You wrapped your arms around him, legs coming up to encompass his waist as he continued to make you both feel good.

‘I love you,’ Tate moaned, arms coming down to pull your thighs up into him, making sure you take every inch of him. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I love-‘

‘I love you too,’ you cry out, brain going blank as the blonde boy randomly sped up his rhythm. Every thrust of his hips had him pulling you up onto his cock, genitals rubbing together as he took everything from you that he could. Every drag of his dick inside of you, every kiss of your lips. He didn’t know what he would do if he were to lose it all again, if he lost you.

Reaching between your sweaty bodies, he circled your clit as he pounded into you harder than before. Your cunt tightened, the pressure building in your muscles becoming so much you felt ready to explode. You were going to snap, the floodgates were going to open and you were going to cum all over Tate Langdon’s cock. You looked fucked out and exhausted, your body ready to give out as you took his last few thrusts.

‘Shit, cumming-‘

Your cunt spasmed as you came undone around him, ears ringing as you writhed and squirmed in his hold. You could feel his ejaculate shooting into you, painting your walls white with his cum. He slowly fucked it into you, noting with a dozy smile how great it was he was dead and couldn’t impregnate you. Well, not likely, he soon grimaced.

After a few more slow, gentle thrusts, Tate removed his flaccid cock from your sopping hole as he turned to lay beside you. You both turned to each other at the same time, loopy smiles on both faces that neither had the energy or care to try and hide.

You finally felt whole again.

‘Are you done? It’s not just you in this basement, you know.’

Hayden’s shrill voice calls out, her tone less than pleased at the sight of you two, fucked out on the ground.

‘Jealous?’ Tate remarked, wrapping his arm around you as he pulled you into his chest. You burned red in shame at forgetting your location, which just so happened to be the hub of every single dead person in the house.

‘Fuck you.’

first attempt at smut lol, hope was okay. feedback would be appreciated! <3

[misshoneyimhome]

You and Will taking a bath together after his point streak ends and he’s not used to being the one that needs comfort but you end up holding him and reassuring how amazing he is and how much you love him and are proud because let’s be real even though he knows it’s not a big deal and to everyone else he seems chill you can sense he’s stressed that the media will turn on him again just a quick as they’ve crowned him king…want our lil Will to feel loved, every big man needs to be a lil spoon with forehead kisses every once in a while🥹

Bb, omg yes! This is so sweet, and I can just imagine it 🥹 everyone loves a good confident Willy, but that man can be a marshmallow and we all know it 💙 I hope I caught onto your thought right, btw

・✶ ｡ﾟ

The Waves Won't Break My Boat

**

The sound of the bag hitting the floor echoed unmistakably through the room.

Your boyfriend, William Nylander, had just returned from a road trip that hadn't gone as well as hoped, despite having given his all, William's point streak had come to an end when they lost to the Blackhawks right after Thanksgiving.

17 points.

And just like that, the streak was over.

Raising your gaze from the sofa, you watched as your Swedish beau entered the living room, welcomed eagerly by Pablo and Banksy. Bending down to give them affectionate cuddles, he greeted them with radiant smiles and genuine enthusiasm., and after fulfilling his most crucial role as a dog-dad, he settled down beside you, plopping onto the sofa with a sigh.

"Hey, love," you whispered gently, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his slightly pouting lips.

"Hey," he responded softly, offering a faint smile before redirecting his gaze to the television, where hockey replays flickered across the screen.

"How are you, babe?" you asked, hoping he'd open up about the emotions you sensed he was holding back. Yet, as always, William simply shrugged, flashing a confident smile and replying with a casual 'I'm fine.'

But you knew him too well. Despite his composed and collected demeanour on the team and with the media, you knew him better than that.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

But as expected, he didn't. In his mind, there was nothing worth discussing, really.

He wasn't exactly in a bad mood, not really. Yet, a part of him harboured regret and disappointment. Frustrations lingered about how he'd lost his streak, and moreover, how the team had lost games they should have easily won.

But rather than pressing him further, risking an argument (a lesson learned from past mistakes), you gracefully rose from your spot and quietly made your way to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Willy remained fixated on the TV, and a knowing smile crept across your face as you realised his distraction was perfect for your little idea.

But then after some time had passed, William's attention was abruptly drawn away.

The replays had ceased, and he noticed that you'd been in the bathroom for quite a while. Initially assuming you needed your space, he then thought he heard the sound of running water and decided to check on you.

"Babe, you alright?" He knocked gently on the door before opening it.

"Yeah, come on in," you answered, as he slowly pushed the door open, only to discover you had set up a multitude of candles, played soft tunes, and prepared a generous bubble bath in the large tub.

"So, this is what you're up to?" William chuckled softly. "I'll leave you to your bath."

But before he could make his exit and leave you to the peaceful solitude, you halted him in his tracks.

"Actually, this is for both of us," you said timidly.

"I don't need a bath," he shrugged, trying to maintain a facade of toughness.

"Maybe not, but I reckon you'd actually enjoy it, babe... come on, just for a little while," you flashed him your sweetest smile, and as expected, he relented.

He'd have to mentally scold himself if he ever turned down an opportunity to spend some quality, naked time with you.

With both of you shedding your clothes down to your bare skins, you gingerly stepped into the tub, settling yourself at the far end with your back against the cool surface.

"Shouldn't I be at the back?" the tall blonde queried, still standing. Yet, you simply looked up at him and with a gentle smile, shook your head.

"Just come on in and try your best to relax."

And so, he followed your instructions.

Stepping in, one foot after the other, William settled himself in front of you, his back against your chest.

Usually, you'd position yourselves the other way around, given his larger size and how snugly you fit into his embrace and against his chest. However, tonight was about him, about coaxing him to relax.

"Come here, lean back, baby," you suggested softly, your voice gentle, as you adjusted your legs slightly to create space for his hips between your legs, allowing him to lean back against your torso.

With a bit of careful manoeuvring, you both found a comfortable position, him leaning against you, your arms draped over his shoulders, resting on his chest.

The steam-filled bathroom was suffused with soft melodies from the speakers, mingling with the soothing aroma of candles and soap.

You could feel Willy's breath, the rise and fall of his chest against yours, his hands gently finding their place atop yours. Despite his fast-beating heart, his posture remained composed and in control.

But you were aware that his mind was racing.

Despite not typically overthinking every little aspect of life, he did tend to dwell on his own hockey performance and all that it entailed.

So, after granting him the time and space you felt he needed, you gently interrupted the silence.

"Talk to me, baby."

"There's nothing to talk about."

His tone didn't betray any signs of anger or irritation, but his racing pulse told a different story.

"I know there's something," you prodded gently, nudging at the boundaries.

Finally, you hit the nail on the head when William let out a deep sigh.

However, no words followed. Recognizing his difficulty in expressing emotions, something that was familiar between you, you decided to break the ice a little.

"You lost your streak," you mentioned, aware it wasn't news to either of you. Yet, someone had to voice it aloud.

"Yeah... I did..."

"But you also gave it your best, putting your all into it," you offered in an attempt to console, still speaking softly.

"I suppose..."

"Babe, you performed amazingly... and deep down, you know it," your hand caressed his chest gently as you spoke softly, your head near his.

Even though you were aware that your words couldn't erase all his frustrations or turn back time, at least you hoped to help him articulate his feelings and let them out.

"I know, but..."

You had a feeling about what else might be preoccupying his mind.

"The media..." you mentioned, sensing his body twitch at the mention of them.

Shifting your hands from his chest to his neck and shoulders, you began a gentle massage, being cautious not to press on any tense muscles – that was a job for his physio.

"They lauded you... spoke so highly of you during your streak and all the points you scored," you voiced what you perceived to be his thoughts. "And now... they're not acknowledging your efforts..."

Your tone softened, cautious not to sound too assertive or harsh.

And once more, William released a deep sigh.

"It's not... It's not that I want all the praise and glory... I mean," he paused, and you allowed him the space he needed to gather his thoughts before continuing. "I just don't understand – how they can almost crown me as the king of hockey one minute, talking about my greatness and potential achievements... but as soon as I don't deliver in one game, I'm suddenly just another average hockey player..."

His voice remained subdued yet resolute, echoing his genuine sentiments.

You sensed his struggle to articulate his feelings, but also noticed a gradual relaxation as he exhaled, having admitted his frustrations.

Giving him another moment to speak, and as silence lingered, you tried to offer comforting words.

"Willy... it's just the media," you spoke carefully. "Good journalism died  years ago, especially with the shift to online platforms where articles became more about catchy headlines and clickbait rather than meaningful content."

"But people still read it."

"And it separates the smart ones from the rest," you added tentatively, running your fingers through his blonde locks. "There will always be people who swallow whatever nonsense some folks write about talented players. But true fans and supporters see the players for who they truly are, relying on direct sources rather than buying into conspiracy theories."

You sensed your words gradually affecting your boyfriend as his body eased further into yours, his head resting more heavily against you.

"You are William fucking Nylander, and no one ever makes you worry and doubt yourself – don't you dare start letting them get under your skin now," you whispered intimately into his ear, planting gentle kisses on his temple.

William could feel his heartbeat steadying with your reassuring words. While what you said held a lot of truth, there was a small untruth in there. Someone could indeed make him worry.

You could.

But you were also his rock. The one he came home to, to feel relaxed and enjoy the silence from the outside world with. And tonight was a perfect example of how you always managed to keep him rooted.

“Do you that I love you,” he then suddenly spoke, into the air in front of him, though you noticed how he’d leaned back entirely, and shut is eyes closed.

“I do, but I love you more,” you softly whispered.

“Not possible.”

[wuntrum]

Oooh I just started rewatching Twin Peaks yesterday! The last time I saw it was around 4 or 5 years ago. Just putting on the first episode again made me realize how much like home this weird little show feels like to me. It’s been nice to see your enthusiasm for it on my dash :)

may I ask what you enjoy most about the show, or why it appeals to you, if anything comes to mind? I find it’s a bit of an odd one to try recommending to people - I love it, of course, but my taste is a little strange, and I don’t find other fans out in the wild that often.

oooh, that's an interesting question! i think theres a lot of aspects that appeal to me about twin peaks...on a very surface level i love the aesthetics of the show, as someone who lives in new england (pacific northwest and new england are connected pacman-map-style in my mind), the settings and fashion are all excellent. i also love its absurdity, i love the fact that no one talks like a real person and theres people with such weird and distinct archetypes and over the top emotions all colliding with each other---that, and the way it approaches the sort of worldbuilding going on, plus the importance of dreams in the narrative contribute to such an interesting and dreamy atmosphere. i think what makes twin peaks special compared to things that were made after it and were inspired by parts of it is that even when its confusing and strange on a literal level, its always emotionally resonant--you don't need to understand it, because you feel it. the way they're able to set up all the people and relationships in this town so quickly, you really feel like you're a fly on the wall in this living and breathing place, even when its strange. you rarely see how buildings and places connect, but you don't need to because its all so convincing as a woven together location (and of course thats for like logistical/filming purposes, but it creates an interesting effect lol). it uses the familiarity of americana tropes (and even television tropes) and distorts them to create meaning, while still keeping parts of their signifiers intact. even watching it for the first time in 2021 was shocking throughout, so i genuinely can't imagine how it felt catching it live when it was airing, like there was nothing else like it! the fact that david lynch helped to make a prime time television show is something that like logically should never have happened, but i'm so glad it did. i also think on a production/creative level, its so interesting to see how it sort of morphed and developed as the original run and fire walk with me and the return unfolded, like what themes were dropped versus what (at first) insignificant details were given meaning and expanded upon.

i do think it can be a hard sell to convince people to give it a chance--i've had a friend or two try to watch it and say its too slow for them, or it just wasn't clicking. but i've also had more friends really get into it, probably because i have a lot of weirdo artsy friends (i say that with love of course). but i think it's a great gateway into other weird and absurd stuff, or at least it was for me. i also enjoy a good ol "weird thing happening in small town" story, and so it was interesting watching twin peaks and then revisiting stuff that was clearly inspired by it, or at least partially (welcome to night vale, s1 of stranger things...s1 of riverdale. but also i think the return has its own sort of inspiration fuel, like season 4 of barry and beau is afraid struck me in the same way that the return did)

[callsignthirsty]

Chapter 2: On the Roof

Shit weather can only stop me for so long! Here's chapter 2

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x F!Reader x Ron “Slider” Kerner Summary: The boys receive their commendations, and you keep your legs crossed. Should be easy, right? Wrong. Word Count: 3680 Warnings: Smut, bets and wagers, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) Chapter: 2/4 Minors DNI Previous Chapter

“Sooo,” Maria Cortell leans as far forward as her bump will allow, drawing out the word with a smile on her lips. It’s become apparent that you’ll be waiting a while for your stolen tablemates to walk onto the stage and receive their commendations. “Are wedding bells ringing?”

Your poor heart, which had only just slowed, skips an unsteady beat. Maria’s question, for as simple as it is, packs one helluva wallop.

The thought hasn’t crossed your mind. You haven’t even said I love you—not for a lack of love, but because you’ve lost many of the ones you love over your life. Admitting the depth of your feelings—whether for family, friends, or beaus—always seems to precede an abrupt departure of said person from your life. But now that Maria has mentioned it, what are you supposed to do?

Distracted, you twist your cloth napkin between clammy hands. It’s not like you can marry Ice and Slider, but you can’t date Ice forever, either. especially not if he’s trying to climb the ladder. He’s expected to marry. To have kids. The white picket fence experience. A wife to come home to.

“They must be,” Merlin’s wife jumps in.

Maria nods with the enthusiasm you wish you felt. “Bill and I were looking at houses after three months. I’m sure you’ve at least talked about it.”

Goose throws back a full glass of wine.

They think they’re being supportive, and it would be nice if it weren’t so terrifying. “I–”

“And now’s the perfect time,” Maria doesn’t even realize she’s cut you off. “Who knows how long he’ll be stationed at Miramar?”

“Ooh! You could get married on the beach.”

Cougar catches your lack of participation. “Don’t scare her off, now,” Cougar says, placing his hand on top of his wife’s to get her attention.

“Oh please,” Laura brushes Cougar aside, “they’ve been practically wrapped around each other all night. Ron said they’ve been inseparable.”

Maria sighs. “Poor Ron.” Carole chokes, but the only one who pays her any mind is Goose, who smacks her between her shoulder blades and refills her water. “I remember how close he and Tom were at Pensacola, must be hard for him to watch his friend settle down–“ something must flit across your face because she hesitates mid-sentence, her eyes widen a little as she realizes the insinuation, and she all but lunges for the distraction of her sentry of a water glass, “–but, um, I’m sure you have a friend you could set him up with?”

“Oh,” Goose interjects loud enough to turn a couple of heads and incite a stern look from Jester, “I think this is them.”

It isn’t.

“That would be fun,” Laura coos back to Maria without skipping a beat. “Think of the double dates.”

“Come on,” Goose tries again, “you don’t want to set someone up with Kerner, do you?” And didn’t Goose know it. He squawks when Carole catches him in the ribs with her elbow, but Maria and Laura are off to the races, passing the idea back and forth and painting a picture of your future while you struggle to keep up.

“You’ll always have someone to keep you company when they end up on a carrier halfway around the world.” Maria.

A sly look from Laura. “You know, if you time it right, your kids can grow up together.”

“Community is so important,” Maria agrees, ducking around a waiter’s arm as dinner plates are settled.

“Sam and I were lucky enough to be stationed near my family when we had the girls.”

“I don’t know what I’d have done without the wives’ group while I was pregnant with Robbie.” Maria gives her husband a tender smile and smoothes a hand over her belly. Whatever she says next is drowned out by applause.

This time—as Goose breathes an “Oh, thank god”—a familiar group of flyboys are led onto the stage. The commander keeps it brief; says some words about the Layton mission and the courageous efforts of the aviators who defended the boat from enemy MiGs. Everyone gets a pin on their lapel before they’re all ushered off the stage. Your legs are crossed by the time they make it back to the table.

The rest of the dinner passes without issue. Plates are cleared. The program comes to a close with the cutting of a cake. A cacophony of music and conversation erupts as the masses are released from their seats and the event finally catches its second wind. More immediately around you, the flyboys spill into the space between their tables and continue catching up.

Hollywood and Sundown introduce their dates—fiancée and wife, respectively—to the larger group. Jester and his wife sneak off, presumably to find Viper but definitely different company. It’s a relief to gain more social padding between yourself, Maria, and Laura, well-meaning though they may be.

It’s while you’re reacquainting yourself with the rest of the group when Hollywood asks Slider if he’s flying solo these days.

“What’s it look like?” Slider grumbles.

Wolfman slings an arm around his fellow RIO’s shoulders to pull him close. “Aw, man. What happened?”

Slider gives him a half-shrug, looking otherwise unaffected. “You know how it is. Couldn’t handle the job.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Chipper chimes in. “You’re still at Miramar.”

“So she dumped you?” Wolf’s winces as he looks up at Slider, taking his silence for confirmation. “Yikes.”

“Hey, it wasn’t like that–”

“Don’t mind them,” Sundown says, an arm wrapped around his wife. She beams at him when he assures Slider,“The right one will stick around.”

And the conversation could’ve ended there. Wolf, Chip, and Sli could’ve spent the rest of the night wingmanning each other until it was time to turn in and Slider would slip into your quarters.

Maria Cortell had other plans. “Don’t be ridiculous! We were just talking about how the future missus must have a friend she can set you up with.” Cheeks flaming, you tuck into Ice’s side in an attempt to escape his gaze. “Future missus?” His tone gives nothing away, but the stiffening of his arm beneath your hand speaks volumes.

Beside Ice, Slider raises a brow. “Were you, now?” This is a conversation you were hoping to avoid.

“Please,” Pete scoffs. “I wouldn’t wish Kerner on anyone.”

Slider sneers, but it doesn’t have any real heat behind it. “Bite me, Mitchell.”

And bless Carole Bradshaw because she sees Pete opening his mouth to say, “Which one?” from a mile away and deploys a very loud countermeasure: “I wanna dance!”

Goose grabs his wife’s hand and pulls her to sit across his lap. “Great idea, honey!” he crows, earning a kiss on the cheek.

For as long as you’ve known him, Goose has always been a darling. Everyone knows it, too. The sun is hot. Water is wet. Everyone loves Goose. His close call on Hop 31 only cemented that last truth. Nick Bradshaw is magnetic in a way few others are, and he could pull a crowd just as easily at the piano as he could, apparently, at his wife’s beck-and-call.

The display of eager, honeyed affection drawing the eyes and smiles of the group.

“C’mon, Mav, give us a push!” Goose loops his arms around Carole as she makes herself comfortable in his lap for the taxi to the dancefloor. “Should be a—what did you call it?—a target-rich environment.”

“Wait. You not seeing Blackwood anymore?” Hollywood asks, receiving ‘oohs’ from the rest of the men. Pete’s shoulder’s bunch, but otherwise, he ignores his friends. Though she was a civilian contractor, Charlie did work for the DoD, and after her relocation to D.C., Pete was technically on her turf tonight.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Ice deflects.

Pete grabs hold of Goose’s wheelchair, finding it more difficult to maneuver with two passengers.  “I wonder if Penny’s here.”

Carole throws her head back with a guffaw. “After your little joyride? I’d be surprised if her daddy lets her within a thousand feet of you!”

The group doesn’t stick together much longer, inevitably breaking up as they go their separate ways.

“What do you say?” Ice asks, nodding after the group headed to the dancefloor. Eventually, Ice needs to go back to rubbing shoulders with the brass, but there’s no harm in a quick dance or two to break up the monotony.

“That’s okay, Ice,” Slider butts in, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. You repress a shiver when the same hand that had been between your legs squeezes your shoulder, fingers ghosting over the velvet near your collarbone. “You go keep Mav out of trouble. We’ll grab dessert and meet you there.”

The twitch at the corner of his lips gives away how hard Slider is fighting to keep the wolfish grin off his lips. Your ears burn, but Ice’s only reaction is an unenthused, dismissive sound. Both of you know what Slider is playing. That doesn’t stop the pinpricks of arousal from returning as you imagine Slider’s hands—both of them this time—working to finish what he’d started under the table.

“How long have we known each other?” Ice asks Slider.

“Going on ten years.”

“And I can count the number of times I’ve seen you eat cake on one hand,” Ice muses.

Undeterred, Slider offers you a lopsided, wolfish grin, his fingers tracing down your arm and raising goosebumps in their wake. “Who said anything about cake?”

“There it is.” Ice flicks Slider’s fingers from their path and threads his fingers through your own. The same Iceman mask he wears around the tarmac is firmly in place when he levels Slider with a look. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You’re pissy because I had this in the bag before I was interrupted.”

“And how were you planning on getting away with it?” Ice hisses with a glance to make sure the three of you are well enough alone. “Sitting at a table full of people.”

“I had a plan,” Slider scoffs.

“A plan to get caught with your hand up her skirt.”

“You’re just upset you walked right into it.” Ice clenches his teeth. He doesn’t have a responding quip, and Slider knows it. Ice had been too excited by the sudden appearance of Cougar to realize Slider was gunning for a quick win. “All it takes is one mistake,” Slider needles.

Wearing down the competition with technical precision is a page straight out of Ice’s book and his fingers twitch ever so slightly in your grasp, Slider rubbing it in his face that he’s fallen prey to his own game. It’s a mistake he won’t make twice.

Ice takes a deep breath and looks to the barrel-vaulted ceiling as if he’ll find the answers he’s looking for among the gold leafing. “We’re leaving now.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” Slider taunts, but Ice is back on his game. He serves Slider a smug look as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Goodbye, Kerner.”

In the dance hall, you’re a single drop in a rolling sea. The band is louder here, the floor tacky with spilled beverages, but you find a pocket of space as the music slows. Pete hangs onto the edge of the crowd with Goose and Carole, his face pressed between Goose’s shoulder blades as he helps his best friend stand to dance with his wife—Carole, you’re sure, is crying.

Gentle hands bring your focus back to your partner as he encourages you to step with him to the rhythm. When you look up at him through your lashes, you almost forget the rest of the room. Taken by the flint of his eyes in the low light. A smile bubbles to life on your rouged lips is an inevitability.

You spin beneath his arm and let Ice reel you in until his breath tickles your ear. “You’re stunning.” You glow under the praise, fingers playing with the short hairs at his nape. High praise.

It makes you wonder: does Ice even know what he looks like?

The ever-present tan of his skin highlighted by the contrasting white of his uniform. The smarts. The confidence. A beauty mark on his jaw. High cheekbones. The way he moves.

He has to know. Not for vanity, but for fact. 

“How’re you holding up?” He must pick up on the restless twitch of your muscles or maybe the flutter of your heart in your palm.

You paint on a smile. ”I’m fine.”

You can’t suppress the shudder that wracks you or the sharp intake of breath when he lifts your chin with a finger, lashes brushing your cheeks as a kiss is pressed to your forehead. When he tugs you closer, you go easily, but you’re unable to fully relax into the embrace.

“Did you know you only say you’re fine when you aren’t?” He shifts his hold so it feels more like a hug, a soft quirk to his lips. It’s easier for him to hold you like this when you fade into the crowd. There’s less pressure. Fewer eyes on him when his hand shifts lower, dexterous fingers tracing over the knobs of your spine and raising goosebumps beneath the luxurious drape of your gown.

The band does wonders to mute your gasp, but Ice doesn’t miss the way you jerk in his grasp. Sensitive.

“Was it…?” He doesn’t finish in an overabundance of caution for who may or may not be eavesdropping. The hand you’d let linger near his nape comes to fidget against his chest as you lay your head against his shoulder and nod while focusing on the ba-dum of his heart. “Do you need to leave?”

“No.” Sure, you tingle with each brush of skin on skin. Yes, you’re eager to soak up each touch. But, as you meet his eyes, you mean it. “I’m just a little overwhelmed by all of this,” you fib.

Slider may be pushing the boundaries of decency—may have definitely blown past them during the dinner— and you may be wound tight after so many days without either of their company, but you can do this. Tonight is about Ice, and you intend to see it through.

“But I don’t want to leave.”

Ice keeps you close as the song fades out and the band counts in a fast-paced number. “Look,” Ice concedes when you break free of the dancing. Playtime is over, you can practically see the cogs turning in the metal of his eyes as Ice comes up with a revised plan. “There are still some people I need to talk to, but after, I’ll get us out of–”

“Just the man I was looking for.” Ice stops so abruptly that you stumble into him. “Admiral John Benjamin,” Penny’s father introduces himself, taking Ice’s hand in a firm shake. “Really good stuff on the Enterprise.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The praise, though sparing, is well-deserved. But the obsequious nature of his comment is revealed in the way the admiral’s eyes scan the nearby crowd. Ice isn’t his target.

“Say,” the admiral drawls as he drops all pretenses, “you wouldn’t happen to know where your wingman is? I want to congratulate him on a job well done.”

You very much doubt that, but as you glance over to where Pete had been with Goose and Carole earlier, he’s long gone—Carole helping her husband back into his wheelchair, the only evidence Pete had been there at all. And Ice knows enough through retellings of Pete’s past run-ins with Admiral Benjamin that you trust him not to sell your brother out. At least, not if he doesn’t have to.

“I haven’t seen him since we received our commendation.”

“Of course. Congratulations again on those,” Benjamin clips. “But you must have some sort of idea of his whereabouts.”

“I–”

“Ice. Admiral, sir.” It never ceases to amaze you how someone as large as Slider can so easily fly under the radar when he wants to. “I need to borrow her for a minute,” he says before Ice can say anything, and because he can’t do anything when Admiral Benjamin continues to squeeze for information on Pete, Slider steers you out of the dance hall.

It had been a crisp 66 degrees in DC, the setting of the sun taking what remained of the day’s warmth with it. The cold creeps beneath your skin as Slider beckons you up the roof access, shimming the door with a wad of folded cocktail napkins so you can slip back to the party later.

Though shrouded in darkness on the flat of the rooftop, the bright lights of the capital might as well be a hair’s breadth away. Too close for comfort. Before you can protest, Slider engulfs your hand in his and looks for a more suitable, more private corner. It won’t do to be caught, though Slider doubts anyone will come looking. But it pays to be cautious.

“You have any idea how good you look in this?” Slider rumbles, voice resonating from deep within his chest in a way that makes your insides quake. He lets you know with a demanding kiss, his lips lightly stained with your rouge when he pulls back so you can suck in a breath.

“Sli.” The wind carries your whine toward the street, where it’s drowned by the brassy horns of street traffic. When goosebumps erupt along your arms, your fingers scrabble for his shoulder boards in a bid to keep him close.

It takes next to nothing to convince Slider to give in to your plea. Crowding close as he smears kisses and color down your neck. “It’s been so hard to keep my hands off you.” Said hands grab fistfuls of you over the velvet of your gown; the smooth rasp of the fabric over tender skin makes you gasp.

“You didn’t,” you point out.

“No,” he agrees, fingers reacquainting themselves with the gusset of your panties. “But can you blame me?”

“Who else would I blame?”

Dizzy with desire, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep a heady whine locked away when fingers slip between your pussy lips to tease around your entrance. “Do you want me to stop?” Slider asks with a lopsided, teasing grin.

“Don’t you dare.”

Instead of giving you what you want—two fingers to fill you where you feel hopelessly empty—Slider’s hand withdraws from your panties. You’re a second from demanding he put his hand right back where he had it when Slider lowers himself to the ground. “Wait–!” you exclaim as his first knee touches down on the unkempt rooftop floor “–your pants.”

“Don’t worry,” he says as both of his hands slip under your dress, eager fingers drawing the lacy elastic of your panties down your legs. “That’s what drycleaning’s for.” But his other knee stays decidedly off the ground.

Slider scoots himself closer, impatient hands rucking up your tight-fitting dress until he can take advantage of the slit in your skirt. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, soft skin exposed to the night, but you’re far from cold as he chases the fabric with scorching kisses up the inside of your thigh. Deliberately leaving marks where no one else at this stuffy party will see them.

His hair is just long enough that the tips begin to curl. You spear your fingers through the short waves and fist what you can. Normally, you’d hold him close as he litters your hip with hungry kisses and sharp, rosey blooms, but with the way he’d worked you up earlier, you pull his head toward the apex of your thighs. You can go back to being Ice’s pretty trophy girlfriend after you cum on Slider’s tongue.

Slider lets out a gruff rumble of a chuckle as if he’s read your mind. A nip makes your leg jump in his grasp, your heel knocking against his back, but he’s as eager to get this show on the road as you are.

Face half-obscured by black velvet, Slider’s tongue laps over your clit. Eyes slamming shut, whole body pulsing in time with your heart, head thunking back against the wall. Slack-jawed, you encourage him to do it again with a shuttered but wanton noise in the back of your throat.

“That’s it,” Slider encourages, his other hand reaching up to massage your ass and drag your hips forward in a slick grind against his mouth. You tremble in his grasp as he continues to roll your hips against his face before he opts for a new angle of attack.

A quick reposition of the leg over Slider’s shoulder grants him better access for a more thorough assault on your cunt, and your back arches when his tongue prods at your entrance. Blood roars in your ears while your walls clench around nothing at the promise of his tongue, but it only teases at your lips.

You try to drag him closer with your one leg, letting go of Slider’s hair with one hand to steady yourself against the wall. Sli takes that moment to dive in, tongue finally fucking into you and his nose bumping into your clit in a way that has your heart stuttering and limbs shaky. Your hips jolt at the touch, back arching off the wall.

It’s messy, the pinpricks of Slider’s stubble eased by the mix of arousal and spit coating the apex of your thighs. The barely muffled slurp as he parts your lips and delves his tongue inside before engulfing your clit in the wet heat of his mouth and giving it a suck.

Slider’s eyes are half-lidded when he meets your gaze. “You’re close,” he breathes, calloused fingers petting up your leg directly to your clit and drinking in the shiver it knocks loose, your lips red as you bite back a moan. “Don’t worry,” he says, two fingers dipping the slightest bit into your cunt before drawing back to rub at the opening, “we’ll get you there this time.”

Against your back, the wall rattles as the roof access bangs open.

Next Chapter

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

Saw a post about wanting headcannon asks… so I have arrived! Any hcs for our boy Loui? Or Florida, or York, or Gov, or anyone really. I like reading about people hcs

YESSSS I DOOOOOO :) <— not a threatening smile dw

Louisiana:

Florida has to make sure that he tells Loui if he’s leaving somewhere cuz otherwise, Loui will very much “internally” panic.

Give him cuddles 🥺 Or let him cuddle you cuz he loves it either way 🥺😭

He will get attached if you make him feel like he’s actually worth something (totally not projecting here). That has however led to some toxic friendships/relationships. Ones where he didn’t want the person to leave, so he did everything he could to make them happy even if it hurt him. (I’m not projecting shut the fu-)

Loves inviting friends over for dinner/parties

Has a catahoula leopard dog/german shepherd mix named Beau, and a black cat named Misty and he loves them both so much.

Has a habit of forgetting that he already told a story, and then he tells it again with the same amount of enthusiasm he did the first time. His friends still listen though cuz they love him and it’s adorable.

Glass bones and paper skin. Lil boy gets hurt very easily but selects the ignore button. Bent his ankle in a way it shouldn’t be able to bend? Ignore. Gets stabbed repeatedly on an evening walk in NOLA? Tis’ but a scratch. Falls off a cliff into raging waters? I’m not dead yet!! Someone tries to help him? "YOUR MOTHER WAS A HAMSTER AND YOUR FATHER SMELLED OF ELDERBERRIES-"

At this point, he’s only still alive and existing out of pure spite and stubbornness.

Gets spooked by everyone and everything.

He probably does that thing where he creeps up on people, stops when they turn around, continues when they turn back around, and then tackle-hugs them. Sometimes though, he’ll just get snatched midair and cuddled to death :]

Florida:

Makes time for him and Loui to cuddle

Actually a decent cook (he sorta lives with Loui-), but he enjoys chaos and fire so. Don’t let him in the kitchen alone.

Actually has an okay relationship with his father (wow me not giving someone daddy issues 😨😰😱), but doesn’t talk to him much. He’s kinda pissed about how much his father neglected him though.

Surprisingly, he knows when it’s not the time to joke around.

Strong man 💪 can pick up all of his friends. Yes even Texas (tbf, he’s just tall he doesn’t weigh that much but it’s still impressive-)

Great hugs 9.5/10. I say only 9.5/10 cuz he might slip you a little danger noodle for a friend.

Gov:

TIRED AF SOMEONE GET THIS MAN IN BED (NOT LIKE THAT-) AND GET HIM SOME DAMN WATER. AGUA. EAU. WASSER. FOR THE SAKE OF HIS ORGANS I BEG.

Has really bad back pain from being hunched over his desk all the time. His joints be poppin 24/7. He’s a lil crispy if you will.

Double jointed mf. Bendy bitch.

Gets treated like absolute sh*t back at the White House. He really needs better handlers.

Can’t cook for sh*t. He’s been known to make backward pb and j sandwiches and pour coffee on the bottom of the mug. Tbh he could probably cook if he wasn’t so sleep deprived.

Low iron and dizzy spells and chronic migraines. How he’s still alive I have no idea.

New York:

My precious baby I’m so nice to him. And since I’m so nice to him: I’ve given him anemia, insomnia, an iron deficiency, and asthma <3

Mans has to stand up REAL slow cuz otherwise he’ll fall and maybe pass tf out.

His brothers are always making sure that he isn’t just dropping dead to a dizzy spell.

He has poliosis :’D

He’s helpful but in the worst ways possible. If someone leaves an empty cup on the counter whilst he’s around. Cuz he will stare at them and slowly nudge it towards the edge of the counter.

————————

[empiredesimparte]

Mgr Zeller: Your Majesty, it is an honour Napoléon V: The honour is mine

Napoléon V: Thank you for coming so quickly. The place of the Pope, my godfather, is central to my coronation in Paris. My advisers have informed me of conditions…

Mgr Zeller: Indeed, His Holiness wishes that his godson find a wife. It's traditional in the imperial ceremony that the Emperor is no longer free. Otherwise, the ceremony must take place in the Vatican

Mgr Morlot: In view of recent events, Your Majesty, it seems delicate that you are single while your sister has a partner

Napoléon V: Is His Holiness not prepared to negotiate all this?

Mgr Zeller: Your Majesty, of course, I will attempt a discussion with His Holiness if you wish. But it's rare for such ceremonies to obtain papal concessions

Napoléon V (pained): I see�� Mgr Morlot: Come on, Your Majesty, you are quite old enough to marry a virtuous young woman. Why does that repel you?

Mgr Zeller: His Excellency Morlot is right, don't you have a young girl who makes your heart beat, Your Majesty?

Napoléon V (embarrassed): I have… I have a sweetheart, yes. But we don't want to rush things, you see

Mgr Zeller: Wonderful! Marriage is the most beautiful of the sacraments, Sire! Why not say yes to married love and embody the love of God?

Mgr Morlot: I'll speak to Mademoiselle Charlotte de Rochechouart. She is perfectly suited to this role. And you have known her since you were a child. I consent to this union if it should be concluded, Sire!

Napoléon V: Excellencies, your words and your enthusiasm embalm my heart. I thank you. I can certainly envisage an engagement, although my beloved also imposes conditions on me

Mgr Zeller (laughing): A woman of spirit! I'm sure that she will be able to understand the situation, Your Majesty. Enjoy your youth and this beautiful love!

Napoléon V: Of course, Your Excellency. Please stay here while I talk to Mademoiselle de Rochechouart and my family. That way you can present the Pope with new avenues for discussion

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Compiègne, 16 Floréal An 230

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

⚜ Traduction française

Mgr Zeller : Votre Majesté, c'est un honneur Napoléon V : Tout l'honneur est pour moi, relevez-vous

Napoléon V : Merci d'être venu aussi rapidement. La place du pape, mon parrain, est centrale pour mon couronnement à Paris. Or, mes conseillers m'ont fait part de conditions...

Mgr Zeller : En effet, Sa Sainteté souhaite que son filleul trouve épouse. Il est traditionnel dans la cérémonie impériale que l'Empereur ne soit plus libre. Autrement, la cérémonie doit avoir lieu au Vatican

Mgr Morlot : Au-vu des derniers événements, Votre Majesté, il apparaît délicat que vous soyez célibataire alors que votre soeur a un partenaire

Napoléon V : Sa Sainteté n'est-elle pas prête à négocier tout ceci ? Je pense que les Français se soucient peu de mon célibat pour le couronnement. La présence de mon parrain serait très bénéfique pour la Francesim et moi-même

Mgr Zeller : Votre Majesté, bien sûr, je tenterai si vous le souhaitez une discussion avec Sa Sainteté. Mais il est rare pour de telles cérémonies d'obtenir des concessions papales

Napoléon V (peiné) : Je vois... Mgr Morlot : Allons Votre Majesté, vous êtes tout à fait en âge d'épouser une jeune femme vertueuse. En quoi cela vous repousse-t-il ?

Mgr Zeller : Son Excellence dit vrai, n'avez-vous point une jeune fille qui fait battre votre coeur, Votre Majesté ?

Napoléon V (gêné) : J'ai... J'ai une dulcinée, oui. Mais nous ne souhaitons pas brusquer les choses, voyez-vous.

Mgr Zeller : Merveilleux ! Le mariage est le plus beau des sacrements, Sire ! Pourquoi ne pas dire oui à l'amour conjugal et incarner l'amour de Dieu ?

Mgr Morlot : Je parlerai à Mademoiselle Charlotte de Rochechouart. Elle est tout à fait désignée pour ce rôle qui plus est. Et vous la connaissez depuis votre plus tendre enfance. Je consens à cette union si elle devait être conclue, Sire !

Napoléon V : Excellences, vos mots et votre enthousiasme embaument mon coeur. Je vous remercie. Je peux envisager certainement des fiançailles, bien que mon aimée m'impose elle aussi des conditions

Mgr Zeller (rigole) : Une femme d'esprit ! Je suis persuadée que devant la situation, elle saura être compréhensive Votre Majesté. Profitez de votre jeunesse et de ce bel amour !

Napoléon V : Bien sûr, Votre Excellence. S'il vous plaît, séjournez ici le temps que je m'entretienne avec Mademoiselle de Rochechouart et ma famille. Ainsi, vous pourrez présenter au pape de nouvelles pistes de discussions

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles, Katheryn Winnick, Kylie Bunbury and Reba McEntire entire for ET Online

"When [creator] Elwood [Reid] was telling me his idea of me being a part of the show, I was like, 'Oh my gosh, I've never done anything like that. I've never been a villain,'" McEntire said from the Albuquerque, New Mexico, set, alongside co-stars Kylie Bunbury, Katheryn Winnick and new series regular Jensen Ackles. "So I was like, 'Yeah I'm in it, I wanna be a part of it,' and the experience has been absolutely 100 percent marvelous."

In season 3, private detective Cassie Dewell (Bunbury), undersheriff Jenny Hoyt (Winnick) and newly appointed sheriff Beau Arlen (Ackles, who was introduced in the season 2 finale) maintain order in Helena, Montana, with their unparalleled investigative skills. But the trio faces their most formidable mystery yet, with McEntire's Sunny at the center of it, in which no camper can be trusted and where danger lurks around every jagged rock and gnarled tree

"The way it was presented to me, I am the type that will go, 'Would you like to learn how to...? Would you like to...?' and then I'll cut your carotid artery," McEntire quipped. "She's bad to the bone but and, you know, sweet."

Winnick expressed enthusiasm over having McEntire join the Big Sky family.

"We are so lucky to have her," she praised. "We really are. It just feels to me like it's a whole new season this year. It feels to me that it's a different vibe on set. Obviously the scripts are, we've changed the format this year, which we're very excited. We're doing an open-close per week for the cases but also Reba's storyline [is] an overarching [one]. There's a huge arch with another storyline as well and we just got some great guest stars that are joining and supporting Reba... and a lot of surprises."

And she isn't the only significant addition to the ensemble. Ackles, who spent 15 years fighting demons on Supernatural, teams up with Bunbury and Winnick in a more regular capacity this year as the town's sheriff.

"They just told me Reba was gonna be here," he joked when asked how it feels to be lording over the town as sheriff. "I said yes, 'What do I have to do? Who do I have to kill?' And then they said, 'Don't worry about that, Reba's got that handled.'"

While he wouldn't divulge too much, Ackles says Beau is part of "the good guys." But with a show like Big Sky, "anything can happen."

"It is a true mystery show and that's one of the appealing factors to it is you don't know who's on what side of the team and you don't know what's going to happen. You don't know where it's going to go. The storylines can cross, they can stay separate, there's a lot that can happen," Ackles teased, leaving the door open for possible romance with Beau and one of the show's leading ladies. "Elwood and his crack team of writers have really set a great stage for what's about to happen."

McEntire's real-life boyfriend, Rex Linn, also joins the show this season as Sunny's husband, Buck.

"It's been a lot of fun. We've been working together since May. We shot a movie together and now we're on Big Sky together. We're having a blast play husband and wife with Cormac [played by Luke Mitchell] as our son," she shared. "We're having a blast together. We love working together and it's been a great experience."

Ackles admitted to fanboying over Linn, which he says was his most memorable day on set.

"Honestly, everybody, it was 'Reba's here! Reba's here!' and I was like, 'Reba's here,' then I was like, 'Wait, is that Rex Linn?'" he recalled. "And I bee-lined to him and just went full fanboy on him. So that was was embarrassing and memorable all at the same time."

"They definitely bring a warm, welcoming, energized, very full of life energy and I think that's necessary when you're working together with people every single day," Bunbury said of McEntire and Linn's working relationship. "So they've really set the tone for us and it's really beautiful."

"Rex has a great attitude. He wants everybody to have fun," McEntire said. "That's what he says right before they say, 'Action.' He says, 'Have fun.'"

As for the season as a whole, Winnick said "it's a whole new level" of chaos.

"Epic. Definitely the stunts, the action, the drama, the character-driven material, the chemistry between the actors every week it's a completely new surprise in a lot of ways because of the open and close in each episode," she previewed. "But also it's really interesting, it's like peeling off an onion when you discover the B plot or the second storyline, which you dive more into the characters and figure out how twisted they really are."

Big Sky premieres Wednesday, Sept. 21 at 10 p.m. ET/PT on ABC.

etonline.com/reba-mcentire-and-jensen-ackles-on-bringing-chaos-to-big-sky-season-3-exclusive-191320

[daydreamingfics]

»»— photograph | lsm (svt ml)

synopsis: your boyfriend seokmin captures your relationship in photographs

» an original purely fictional lee seokmin story created by daydreamingfics: only on tumblr. please do not repost anywhere. feedback, likes, and reblogs are welcome and appreciated. ♡

pairing: lee seokmin (dk) x y/n genre: idol!au, fluff, boyfriend!au word count: 1k warnings: none, i'm just in a silly fluffy mood, it seems musical inspiration: ed sheeran - photograph

❝ we keep this love in a photograph we made these memories for ourselves

"Can I open them now?" you question for the millionth time since Seokmin positioned the makeshift blindfold over your eyes. Being with someone keen on surprises was entirely unexpected, as you were a little too impatient and giddy to wait for them properly, but that was before Seokmin. Your self-proclaimed "master of surprises" beau truly lived up to the title and continuously hit every special moment he'd planned for you out of the park. Well, the ones he had been able to keep secret long enough. No matter his schedule, Seokmin continually prioritized his and your relationship. Promising from day one that should you choose to allow him and his hectic lifestyle into your heart, he'd always aspire to make you feel loved and appreciated. And not once had he broken that promise to you.

"Not yet, Y/N," Seokmin responds, setting a chaste kiss on your nose as he continues to lead you. With your sense of sight disabled by the blindfold, Seokmin guides you along. Murmured directional cues drift to your ears as you bubble over with excitement every step of the way. You trace featherlight exclamation points into Seokmin's arm to silently convey your enthusiasm and, mostly, to catch his adorable chuckles at the ticklish effects of your playful antics. "Just a little longer. The wait will have been worth it, my darling, Y/N, I hope," Seokmin's words dangle in the air between the two of you, a tell-tale sign that the boy was starting to doubt his plans. Quickly reassuring him, you gently squeeze his bicep to intercept his overthinking. "Seok, your surprises are the best. I'm sure I'll love what you've prepared," you console your boyfriend—wanting to reach out for him, but given the blindfold, that was easier said than done. You flail an outstretched arm in the air, to which Seokmin uses the opportunity to place his chin in your palm. 

"Okayyy, DeeKayyy, you've got this," Seokmin loudly verbalizes in his announcer's voice, thus rendering his moment of doubt over just as quickly as it had arrived as you share a laugh. The declaration reassures you that the boys' excitement, once again, was elevated. There were numerous reasons why you'd fallen in love with Seokmin, but his sheer positivity had to be the most significant one. Seokmin never steered away from showing his genuine emotions to you, never caring about appearing too vulnerable, and you adored him for it. Your heart pulsated feverishly within your chest as you never quite knew what to expect when it came to Seokmin. You'd been dating for some time now, yet his effect on you never wavered, and you were confident it never would. When it came to incredible boyfriends', you were a fortunate individual to have him in your life.

With the second half of his group's tour rapidly approaching, the familiar feeling of dread due to soon being miles away from one another lingered like a storm cloud above you. A feeling that despite your best efforts, Seokmin noticed. He knew your strength and how you handled everything in stride, but he wanted to ensure that he always held to his words of making you feel appreciated. You, too, knew that you could handle the time apart, as this wouldn't be the first time your idol boyfriend would be away from you for an extended period. Yet, you're only human; if given a choice, you'd have him home. Be able to see him at least every other day, if possible. But that wasn't up to either of you. So over time, you'd discovered ways to deal with distance as best you could. From your very first date, Seokmin always brought his camera along. He wanted to capture all of your moments as a couple in a still-frame image, no matter how massive or miniature. Your photo album varied from lazy days at home to pictures of you two in foreign countries; when your schedule permitted you to tag along on tour. You were thankful for his pension to capture it all. You found comfort in glimpsing at the photographs of your relationship from the early stages to now, especially when Seokmin was away. 

The scene before you leaves you in awe once Seokmin maneuvers behind you and removes the blindfold. He'd set up a pillow fort in the center of your living room floor, lit with twinkling fairy lights and candles, while a homemade slideshow of your pictures through the years projected on the wall. In the center, your favorite foods lay carefully prepared. As you marvel at all of the little details that Seokmin knows you, love, he gently fastens a heart-shaped locket around your neck, securing the clasp as you admire the shiny jewelry with tears in your eyes. "Seok, this is, wow, this is amazing," you hum while he wraps you in his embrace.

"I love you so much, Y/N, and I know that being with me isn't always easy but thank you for always being my rock," he beams down at you in his arms, swaying your bodies lightly as you relish the moment and return his declaration of love. Moments pass as you bask in the comfortable silence that envelopes you—simply sharing in the extraordinary time with one another. 

"What do you say we put the first picture in that locket tonight? Hm," Seokmin questions as he leads you, hand in hand, into the pillow fort, sitting down first so you can sit in your favorite spot between his legs. Seokmin's chin rests on your shoulder as he holds the camera in front of you. "To us making more memories together, forever," Seokmin whispers, sealing the words into your blushing cheek with a delicate kiss.

"To us making more memories together, forever," you whisper back as Seokmin snuggles you closer to his front, your eyes locked on one another as he presses the camera's shutter button to capture another memory in a photograph.

" so you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans holding me closer 'til our eyes meet you won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home

[zablife]

The Announcement

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x OC (Andrea “Phantom” Simpson-Bradshaw)

Summary: Bradley and Andy announce her pregnancy.

Author’s Note: A lovely anon requested some milestone moments set in my AU between Bradley and Andy.  

Warnings: language, mention of pregnancy, angst with a fluffy ending

“Hey, Mom,” Andy said hugging Connie tightly as she came in the front door. 

“Connie, how are you?” Bradley said greeting his mother-in-law and passing her a small package. 

“What’s this?” she said surprised, ushering them both inside. 

“Where’s Dad? It’s kind of a present for both of you,” Andy teased, unable to hide her radiant smile. Bradley held her close wrapping an arm around her waist, unconsciously rubbing a thumb over her flat stomach. He’d taken to doing that ever since he found out she was pregnant, already feeling protective of his child. 

Oblivious to the couple beside her, Connie stepped into the hall calling out, “Beau! Beau, come in here! Andrea and Bradley are here, honey,” she called waiting for her husband’s heavy footsteps before tearing at the carefully wrapped gift. 

Beau appeared behind her as she opened the box to reveal a series of sonogram images and a bright white onesie that read Grandpa’s Co-pilot. “Surprise!” Andy said, reaching for Bradley’s hand with a grin. The room went totally silent for a few moments and Bradley could see Andy’s expression change from giddy excitement to fearful apprehension. His heart ached for her. Just once he wished her parents could be happy for her and celebrate her the way she deserved. 

He thought of his own parents in these moments and how they would have reacted. Nick and Carole Bradshaw had an energy bordering on chaos, but their enthusiasm for life was contagious. They would have been jumping and shrieking with joy by now, but Beau and Connie Simpson stood quietly studying their daughter as though they were still making up their minds about how to respond to the news. 

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?” Bradley asked. “You don’t seem too happy for people who just found out they’re about to be grandparents,” he commented, smile fading from his handsome face.

“Of course, we’re happy for you!” Connie said suddenly moving in to hug him and then Andy. “It’s just so fast, that’s all. You just got married six months ago,” she said stepping back to look at her husband. “Beau, aren’t you going to say congratulations?” 

“I congratulated Andrea last week when she told me,” Beau answered, staring at his daughter with an unreadable expression. 

“Beau, honey, you knew and you didn’t tell me?” Connie asked sounding hurt. She looked back and forth between her daughter and her husband. Andy looked on the verge of tears, the happy announcement quickly devolving into another family argument. At the same time Bradley was turning to Andy with a look of confusion. She hadn’t mentioned she was going to tell her father the news early. 

Beau sucked in a breath before continuing solemnly to Bradley and Andy, “But I don’t think this is what she wants, so you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t celebrate my daughter being forced into early retirement because of an unplanned pregnancy.”

Bradley immediately bristled at the harsh comment, clenching his fists at his sides. He thought Andy was happy, but if she had gone to her father without telling him, something must be wrong. He looked at her feeling betrayed, “Andy, is that true?” 

Staring her father in the eye defiantly she stated, “That was a meeting about my promotion, Dad. I couldn’t sit on that kind of news. It would have been irresponsible.” Challenging him further she spat, “That was privileged information I shared with my CO, not my father. I thought you of all people would have understood the difference.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you told me you were concerned…and uncertain,” Beau countered. 

Hearing those words cut Bradley deeply. He stormed out of the house wordlessly, slamming the front door as he left. 

“Dad, that wasn’t fair for you to say to Bradley. That wasn’t what I meant and you know it,” Andy dropped her head into her hands. 

“Honey, it’s your life and your career you have to think about,” Beau implored.

Andy looked up at her father in disbelief. “I know it’s hard to imagine someone wanting to put their family before their career, but that’s exactly what I want, Dad. If you can’t understand that then maybe it’s best if we don’t speak for awhile,” Andy said with tears in her eyes. Connie tried to stop her daughter, but Andy pulled away leaving before the tears could fall, not wanting to show weakness in front of her father. 

She jogged down the front steps of the house, looking for Bradley. She had to find him and tell him what he had heard inside was all wrong. She wanted this baby more than anything in the world.

She spotted him leaning against their jeep with his shoulders hunched over and head hung low. She raced up to him and hugged him tightly. When she realized he wasn’t hugging her back, she sobbed, “God, Bradley, please don’t listen to him.”

She lifted his face to look at her and brought his large hand to rest over her stomach. “You know I love flying as much as you do, but no matter what I achieve, there’s nothing that’s going to make me prouder than being a mom to this little baby. You have to believe me when I tell you this is what I want, okay?” 

Bradley nodded in understanding, feeling relieved to hear she wasn’t harboring doubts about having a child with him.

“You don’t know how much I wish we could’ve told your parents instead of mine. I’m sorry they aren’t here, baby. I know how hard days like this are for you…” Andy trailed off as she got an idea. She grabbed Bradley’s keys from his pocket and ran around the driver’s side, starting the car. 

“What are you doing, Andy?” Bradley asked looking confused. 

“We’re going to tell your parents!” she replied, wiping her tears away with her shirt sleeve. “Get in!”

She drove the short distance to the beach and parked at their favorite spot, grabbing a blanket from the backseat and running toward the sand. As they laid the soft cover over the cool earth, Bradley took Andy in his arms and they looked up at the multitude of stars that twinkled in the velvety blackness of the night sky. Andy rested her head on Bradley’s chest and intertwined her fingers with his. “Go on,” she said nudging him with her chin. “Say it out loud,” she said eagerly. 

“I don’t think I understand, baby,” he said stroking her hair. 

“Goose and Carole, they need to know they’re gonna be grandparents. I think we should tell them here where you used to come as a family,” Andy explained softly. She felt Bradley smile against her and she knew he was thinking of his early childhood memories. 

Bradley took a breath and looked to the heavens. “Mom…Dad….I wish you were here so I could tell you this in person, but I guess this’ll have to do. I want you to know that the woman I love more than anything in the world is having my child and I’m the happiest man alive. I wish I could give her something back, but I’m just gonna keep loving her the way she deserves and hope that’s enough.”

Bradley was so lost in thought he hadn’t realized Andy was crying softly into his arm. “I love you so much Andrea,” he said pulling her into him tightly.

“I love you too, Bradley,” she said sniffling quietly.

After a few moments of silence, Andrea’s tears had subsided and Bradley smoothed her hair back. “Want to hear a joke?” he asked.

He often employed humor when she was feeling sad or upset. He had a long list of corny jokes, mostly about roosters. Although they were terrible, Andy admittedly found them adorable. Bradley knew if he told enough of them in quick succession, she would eventually dissolve into laughter, forgetting her problems. That was the outcome he was hoping for this evening.

“What do you get when you cross a rooster with a small dog?” Bradley quizzed her.

Andy shrugged, “I don’t know. What?”

“A cock-a-poodle-doo.”

Andy smiled so Bradley continued. 

“What do you get when you cross a vacuum and a rooster?”

“What’s that?” She said raising an eyebrow. 

“A cocksucker,” he said with an impish grin.

Andy let out a snort. “That was awful. You should be ashamed of yourself, Bradley!” 

Bradley held up his hands, “You really think that sounds like me? That one came from Hangman. Alright, here’s a better one…”

“Where does a rooster meet a hen?” He asked, trying one more riddle.  

“I’m not answering you anymore!” Andy said blocking her ears playfully.

“Chicken Tinder!” He said with a roaring laugh that was utterly contagious. She began laughing in earnest, mood greatly improved from the sadness she’d felt earlier in the evening. Bradley began tickling her sides gently and she swatted at him blithely. 

“Go away!” She giggled, getting up to run to the water’s edge. She looked back to see if he was chasing her. 

“Never! I’m never leaving you,” he said running after her and scooping her up in his arms. “Sorry, you’re stuck with me,” he said leaning in for a kiss. 

“Then I’m pretty lucky,” Andy beamed, taking his face in her hands and kissing him back passionately. 

As they looked out over the water Andy said, “I think we’re gonna be alright, babe.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” Bradley agreed. 

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

**Read the original fic Like a Phantom here.

**Read about the birth in the fic Poker Night here.

[ambrosykim]

your loving arms are the true delight

pairing: ambrose kim x f!button (alex wiseman) words; rating: 2,5k; mature (non-explicit sex at the end) summary: alex and ambrose's first time getting intimate a few months into dating a/n: i've been writing this for so long and it's sg really close to my heart so enjoy the nerds being super grossly in love while exploring alex's asexuality

"so, what are your plans then?" nick leans against the doorframe as alex is putting her shoes on.

"oh, i've been meaning to show ambrose this small restaurant--"

"the one with the squid ink pasta?! i thought we agreed on keeping that a family secret!" nick is looking at her as if alex just set one of his ovens on fire - which, for the record, she has done. but only once and he keeps bringing it up even though it's been years.

alex raises her brows in response to her brother, but still says "well, i'm showing it to him anyways. you're not the boss of me," ending the sentence with a mental picture of her sticking her tongue out even if she feels too formal in her outfit to actually do it.

nick rolls his eyes.

"fine, i may just not want the place to get ruined for me by knowing that ambrose kim has set foot in there before," at alex opening her mouth, nick continues. "and i know, 'i need to grow up' i'm trying, okay? it's hard enough to accept that ambrose kim is dating my baby sister."

at this alex once again raises a lone eyebrow and mentally responds to her brother. "-and yes, i know, you're not a baby anymore and i love seeing you happy but it might take me a bit more time to accept ambrose kim as the source of that happiness." as a response alex only leans in to hug nick, who in turn uncrosses his arms to embrace her back.

their moment is interrupted by two sharp knocks on the front door.

he's here.

"speaking of the devil," nick has a slight smirk on his face. "don't let me keep you from your beau." alex gives a slightly annoyed huff at this, but quickly regains her previous cheeriness.

it's hard to be annoyed when a fancily dressed ambrose kim is on the other side of the door, waiting for her. as she's about to open the door, she calls back a quick "don't wait up!" to nick. to this, nick only answers with a wiggle of his eyebrows and an "ooh la la!" which alex quickly tunes out in favour of being able to properly kiss her boyfriend in greeting.

even though it's becoming one of her favourite pastimes, sometimes it still feels odd to be leaning down to kiss rosy- ambrose. despite him reassuring her that the height difference doesn't bother him, alex sometimes still feels overly conscious of the half foot that she's got on ambrose. still, the height difference allows for easy access to his forehead for forehead kisses, which she's getting more and more fascinated with, even though - or especially because - he always grumbles about it, but still allows it.

—

nick's comment only resurfaces in alex's thoughts upon entering ambrose's house after their pleasant restaurant date.

it really was lovely, after their meals they shared some tiramisu and talked about their most cherished books. after a while it evolved into alex ranting about her favourite character, to which ambrose only attentively listened to without any complaints - in fact, he seemed very taken by her enthusiasm. he really is an ideal date, alex must say.

after closing the door, ambrose turns to her.

"would you care for some tea? i've recently bought some strawberry tea and i wanted to get your opinion on it."

"that would be great, thank you," alex is still toeing off her shoes, so she misses the way ambrose softly nods at her as he makes his way into his kitchen.

she suspects that he mainly keeps tea at home for her enjoyment, since she knows ambrose prefers coffee. a bit after they started dating, an electric kettle suddenly appeared in his kitchen which he was very nonchalant about, but alex assumes he most likely bought it for her, since she’s been spending a considerable time at his house in the past months.

it's become a habit to have tea after their dates, which alex absolutely adores.

they sit on his couch - a dreadful cream colour, devoid of personality - and usually read together or play cards. lately ambrose has been teaching her to build a house of cards, but she's not very good at it, usually letting it fall apart with her exhaling laughter.

today, however, alex is suddenly preoccupied with overthinking what nick said - or implied more like - to her, his way of singing out 'ooh la la' ringing in her head.

as ambrose approaches with two mugs of steaming tea - both strawberry, as he has been expanding his tea drinking horizons since starting to date alex - alex snaps out of her trance of overthinking. she takes the mug, cradling it in her hands while ambrose sits down next to her.

noticing alex's motionless state, he starts to gather their books, as if to settle in for a night of quiet reading, but alex knows that he's giving her time to start talking. despite being usually chatty, ambrose knows how hard serious conversations are for her, and he feels that alex is thinking over something heavy. when he has their books - alex keeps a book at ambrose's for nights such as this - he hands the right one to alex.

after taking it - while her focus is still seemingly on the cover of the book - alex starts speaking.

"you know i want to have sex with you, right?" flicking her eyes up at her boyfriend she realises he's staring at her with a blank look. though she hasn't figured out all his expressions yet in their three months of dating, she can feel his shock rippling through the air. "i mean... eventually, you know? not right now but," as she continues speaking, he slowly puts his book down on the coffee table to join their mugs of tea, turning his body towards alex.

when she still doesn't get a reply, she continues. "-but, like soon? i guess? i don't know how soon after starting to date is normal... and you know i haven't had sex before so i'm like, kind of nervous about it. not that i don't trust you, you know i do, i just-" ambrose puts one hand on alex's knee, which immediately shuts her up. she looks up from where she's still staring at the book in her hand, only watching as he plucks it from her grasp and joins their hands together.

"alex, please breathe. i hope you know i'm not expecting anything from you. not now, or ever." despite ambrose keeping his expression neutral, alex can feel the warmth radiating from him.

"i know, i just... don't want you to feel like i'm not attracted to you, or that i'm waiting for you to seduce me or something."

at this, ambrose raises a single eyebrow, as if him 'seducing' anyone - even alex - is ridiculous. to be fair, alex has to keep herself from laughing at the mental image of ambrose throwing himself at her while clad in lingerie. as if reading her mind, ambrose's eyes narrow in alex's direction, but she knows he's determined to continue the conversation. getting over the mental image of ambrose in lingerie, alex continues. "because i am. attracted to you, that is. you know that i've got difficulties with the whole sexual attraction thing, and after a comment nick made, i'm just overthinking everything." she gestures at her head, as if to indicate where exactly her overthinking is happening at the moment.

"plus, i just like having a plan for everything, so maybe let's come up with one for the time we end up having sex?" alex's big eyes bore straight into ambrose's own, and he nods.

"that sounds perfect. i would like to know what you'd be comfortable with doing and what i could do to make it enjoyable for you."

still sitting turned towards each other, alex suddenly tries to hide her face by looking over her shoulder. as ambrose reaches over to cradle her head while gently turning it to face him, he sees tears welling up in alex's eyes.

"i'm sorry. what you said was just so perfect and i just-" ambrose wipes the tears off her face with his thumbs and leans up to slowly kiss alex's forehead.

"we will have a detailed discussion later, about what you're fine with and what i should avoid doing," as he says that, he continues to hold alex's face in his hands, looking deeply into her eyes.

alex opens her mouth, to which ambrose lowly chuckles before speaking.

"i know, you like to have a plan for everything, which is why, in this conversation, we will also include a detailed schedule for our first time, all right?" to this, alex only nods, while letting out a watery chuckle that sounds eerily similar to a sob.

"thank you. weird how the tables turned in this conversation huh? look at you, doing most of the talking," and with that, alex is back to being her usual self, only the subtle shining of tears in her eyes indicating that the past few minutes actually happened.

while glad that his girlfriend is seemingly returning to herself, ambrose stares into her eyes, as if looking for a confirmation that she really is all right. after finding what he’s looking for in alex’s gaze, he nods to himself, finishing his inspection with a peck to her cheek.

her eyes crinkling with joy at this, she chases his mouth to capture it in a proper kiss which he eagerly responds to, while not letting it become anything more. with that, she reaches to get their reading off the coffee table. she hands ambrose one of the books as she settles down on the couch, leaning into the side of her boyfriend for an evening of quiet relaxation, shelving this conversation for later.

—

in the end, after some thorough discussion, they came up with a plan they were both comfortable with. ambrose made sure to talk through exactly what touch alex would be fine with, even though they agreed that he would be physically removed for most of their first time.

alex has never done anything like this before and she is nervous. she is currently laying on the bed against the headboard, still talking to ambrose who’s just coming in from the other room.

even though she's gotten used to ambrose's attention being focused on her, this is something entirely new, and she knows he’s noticed her slight tension. she can feel his gaze on her as she gets comfy on the bed, while he sits in the chair that’s been brought in for him from the kitchen.

she proposed to let him on the bed with her but ambrose insisted that the chair would offer him a better view - to which alex blushed a deep pink, and ambrose only answered by clearing his throat.

now, she's leaning against the headboard - which is firm under her head, grounding her - with most of her clothes gone.

ambrose was meticulous in removing her clothes, while also not making her feel overwhelmed in the process. he made sure she was comfortable with his actions by dizzying her with kisses, which made her both more eager and more compliant with him. still, he didn’t overdo it, and was very precise in which part of her body he touched.

(god, alex loves him so much.)

after she has been properly riled up through the slow undressing and kissing process - which took around half an hour not that she was timing it - she is now laying against the headboard in only her bralette and an unbuttoned shirt, making eye contact with ambrose.

he's sitting with his arms crossed, only dressed in his black joggers - and looking very enticing if alex can say so herself.

maintaining eye contact, she slowly moves her hands down her body, stopping at her center. she doesn't know what to do with her other hand, so she slides that over her breast, more out of comfort than any stimulation.

she's hyperaware of her lover's intense stare, and though he hasn't changed his position since sitting down, alex knows he's affected just by how hard he’s clutching his crossed arms. still, today is not about his pleasure, but about getting to know alex and her comfort levels with intimacy and sex, and he knows that. his eyes suddenly jump from alex's own, to where she just started touching herself.

she still feels a bit nervous, but just looking at ambrose and his lips pressed together from concentration - and from how much he's affected by her - helps. shifting her focus to his arms - still crossed, muscles bulging from how hard he's holding himself back - she feels herself getting more and more wet. she's also just as affected by him as he is by her, her quiet breathy whimpers filling the silence of the room.

just then – maybe after hearing her - with eyes flicking to hers, ambrose stands up and makes his way to the foot of the bed.

he does so as slowly as he can, giving alex time to adjust to his proximity. as he sinks down to the bed, alex nudges him with her leg, giving him permission to touch her. he slowly snakes his hands onto her calves, tightly holding on, his eyes still boring into hers.

alex flits her gaze down to concentrate on where his hands are grabbing her skin, looking intently at his hands – she’s always loved his hands, strong and sturdy - as she continues rubbing herself, getting close. she's nearly willing him to move closer, but he's keeping a respectful distance, though he slowly starts stroking her legs.

she could come by only the way he looks at her. it's as if he wants to devour her whole, yet still so full of tender love.

as she's getting close, she detaches her hands from her body to make grabby hands to her boyfriend, who complies with a slight smirk on his face, coming to cage her thighs with his muscular ones, careful to not put his weight on her. he gently but firmly grabs alex's face, kissing her deeply but still keeping his eyes open, as if not wanting to miss a single moment of what's happening.

as he envelops alex with his frame – keeping a small distance between their bodies - she reaches down to continue rubbing herself where she left off. as a response, ambrose grips her waist with one hand and slowly holds her breast with the other, swiping his thumb over her nipple, making alex's voice hitch as she comes.

at this, ambrose detaches his mouth from alex's, wanting to be able to watch his partner come. afterwards, alex reaches up to kiss him, conveying all her love towards him, smiling into the kiss.

as ambrose lays down next to her, she turns to him, snuggling in close to him.

ambrose huffs a small laugh but accepts his fate, knowing that he can’t escape from alex’s need from cuddles.

[mayihaveyournameplease]

TIMING: 5-27 @ 1:21pm LOCATION: The BMV PARTIES: Beau @mayihaveyournameplease & Gael @lithium-argon-wo-l-f SUMMARY: Gael needs a change of address, Beau needs a new name. CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

Gael had to admit that he had no idea that some states called their vehicle places the ‘Bureau of Motor Vehicles’ instead of the one he was decidedly more used to but the day was young and he already learned something new so he could cross that off his list. He read up ahead of time and had all the necessary paperwork and really, all he needed was to change the address on his license so with his usual air of confidence and a half-smile on his face, he made his way inside and took a number - why were these places always so busy? Most of the population of Wicked’s Rest was college kids– oh wait, it suddenly made sense. So, with a sigh and a charged phone, he made his way to one of the seats and waited for his number to be called. It was fine, it wasn’t like he was busy at all that day. 

Beau loved his job. Beau knew he was honestly the only one on his working team that could say they loved their job without lying. Every morning he was up at six to make sure he was at work on time, with his huge signature smile plastered on his face by eight. Now most people would say “Beau, why do you like your job? Isn’t it a god awful boring job?” To that, Beau would say no. It’s the most beautiful job in the world. “Good morning everyone!” He’d announced it to his coworkers upon arrival. He was met by their beautiful scowling faces. Especially from Ed, the security man. Ed hated Beau the most. Ed didn’t understand why everyone in Beau’s line was always such a problem. They always complained about how their forms were wrong because that wasn’t their names on them. Haha. Ed was so stupid. 

Beau was set up at his standing desk, a crate under the counter provided a stepping stool to appear taller than his five foot five frame. He found it was helpful when people were intimidated by his height. Thanks to the counter, none of the customers had to know his little secret. “Number 32a” He announced, pressing the button that changed the number above his station so his next client could come forward.  Huh, maybe he’d be seen sooner than he thought. Or maybe he just wasn’t entirely concerned with timing. Either way, Gael got to his feet and approached the counter where he found himself face-to-face with a man with an unusually wide smile on his face and admittedly the sight caused Gael to falter for a fraction of a moment - he understood enthusiasm for the profession but he thought it unnatural that someone would love their job at the BMV this much. Normally it was the standard fare of ‘I hate my job’. He recovered fluidly though and returned the smile with one of his own, albeit much less… full of sunshine. It wasn’t fake though, or so he hoped. “Good morning,” He said. “I just need a change of address form for my drivers license.”

"A change of address. I would be so cheesed to help you with that." Beau giggled to himself. "That's just a little joke I like to tell. Cheesed instead of pleased." Beau placed his hands on the counter, palm up. "Let me take a look-see at those forms and I'll see what I can whip up for you."  Beau didn't wait for the man to hand him the papers. He snatched them right out of his hands. Eagerly his eyes roamed over the words for that one beautiful section. Name. Gael Córdova. 

Anger seethed in the tiny man. His smile faltered, and his fingers clutched around the paper causing it to wrinkle. This was the man who'd lied to him on the internet! A closer inspection showed the man had lied about the ó in Córdova. Beau took a deep breath. "I need you to confirm your identity. Give me your name please." This was a good day for revenge. Beau looked up, right into the man's eyes. He was ready to receive his just rewards. The trickster, no, the Liar would lose his name.

‘Cheesed’, huh. Gael felt as though he heard that term recently, but normally it was associated with– Aaand there went the papers. The professor blinked in surprise but other than a slight furrow of his thick brows, he didn’t think much of it and instead recalled where he had heard ‘cheesed’. It was online, with that… Ah, this man must’ve been the aforementioned ‘strong and handsome Beau Bueford’. Gael glanced over Beau’s own features, seeing the smile falter and his papers being gripped with some previously-unseen emotion. Maybe the strength was on the inside. He didn’t wonder to himself for much longer when Beau suddenly locked eyes with him and requested he confirm his name. “Sure thing, Beau,” He shrugged. “Full name is Gael Abelardo Córdova,” He said clearly, tilting his head. “But you already knew that, you could read it on the paper and we met online. Remember me?” He asked.

Jubilation. Triumph. Victory. Sweet ecstasy. Oh there were a million words that could be used to describe the utter bliss Beau found himself in as the name Gael Córdova became his. Beau could turn to the lying loser in front of him and even tell him that now Beau was Gael and he was going to have to live with that. To make it better, Gael remembered him from their brief online interaction. The way that made his victory taste sweeter. Beau's smile, while already huge, expanded completely across his face. He felt like getting off his box to do a little dance. 

"Did you say Gael Córdova? Are you sure that's your name?" Beau leaned across the counter, elbows on the flat surface, hands in his palms. He wanted to be up close and personal as Gael realized that wasn't his name. As Gael realized he was so stupid for coming to the BMV with the wrong name on all his forms. Oh, Beau's feet wanted to tap out their excitement. Good guys really did win everything, didn't they? 

One moment Gael was waiting for an answer and the next Beau repeated a name back to him and whatever expression was on his face slid off and was replaced with a furrowed brow and a look of concentration. “N-no,” He said with uncertainty, looking up in thought. “No, that’s not– I don’t know who that is.” Gael’s eyes lowered onto Beau’s impossibly wide smile, dancing over his uncanny features almost as if searching for the answer to the question that sprouted up in his mind - what WAS his name? Wait, he could figure this out. “Okay, I came to the BMV,” Gael started to explain to himself, turning and regarding the door. “I came in, I needed a change of address form. You called my number - 32a,” He recalled. “I came up here, handed you the papers, you asked for my name and I said–” He faltered, his mouth hanging open as if he was about to gag. Without asking for permission, he grabbed the papers back from Beau and frantically looked over them where the name, his name, would go but it was… gone. There was color there but there was no name. “I don’t… know my name,” He admitted quietly. “I don’t know what my name is, Beau.”

Giggles bubbled and burst through Beau. Oh he couldn’t take it anymore. Beau tripped off the box he stood on as the laughter caused his feet to bound and bounce. Joy radiated from everything he was. Oh he wished he was dancing in a ring of mushrooms right now. The look of confusion on Gael’s face was worth every ounce of online anger the man had given him. It didn’t matter that his own bliss had caused him to topple onto his butt. Beau allowed himself a moment of victory, making snow angels on the BMV floor.

Ed had to burst his bubble. Ed had to ruin it all for him. Beau rolled his eyes as he got up to his feet and settled back on his box, once more taller than the other man. “It’s okay Ed. I just had a fall. Don’t worry, we don’t have a problem here.” Yet. The word yet trailed off silently. Beau still wanted time to gloat over his victory before calling Ed to remove Gael. “I know.” Beau reached out and gave Gael a gentle pat on his hand. “I know you don’t remember your name. Something must be very wrong with you. Especially if you remember my name and not your own.” 

An idea struck Beau. Hadn’t he been interested in collecting something other than names? Did he really want more names? Well. Of course he wanted more names, but the names he yearned for had been stolen by someone else. Perhaps, just maybe, it was time to try something new. “I think, my friend, because surely we are best of friends now, that I can help you remember your name. The only thing you need to give me is what's wrong with you. Give me your secrets and I am positive I can help you remember your name.” 

While Beau apparently found this entire thing hilarious, Gael didn’t think he could’ve been having less of a good time and as the (much shorter, he found out) man was rolling around on the floor in laughter, Gael started to grit his teeth as he combed over the folds in his brain, desperately searching for his name. HIS name. Gael’s name. Gael. . . . He didn’t blink once as Beau was reprimanded and the latter clambered back onto his box to make himself seem taller by comparison - and he was, right now both literally and figuratively. 32a (that’s what he opted to call himself as a placeholder) had since looked off to the side, his brow still knitted tightly in the middle when he felt something on his hand and some words that also didn’t mean anything to him. Sharply, punctuated with a small growl, 32a reacted to the hand on his and his fingers were pulled in so quickly and with such ferocity that he left four jagged nail indentations on the desk. While Beau said that something must’ve been very wrong with HIM, 32a got the opposite impression; indeed, it suddenly seemed like something was very wrong with Beau. The way he smiled, laughed at 32a’s suddenly lapse of memory, and was this gaslighting? This was… this had to be some sort of hypnosis, or maybe he got drugged in the short time they’d interacted. He glanced down at his hands, scouring them for signs of tampering or puncture wounds he might’ve missed. He didn’t smell anything… and he wasn’t the only one in the area. Exhaling deeply, he turned his narrow-eyed glare back to the man behind the counter. “What’s wrong with me?” 32a repeated venomously. “Secrets? I don’t HAVE any secrets.” He said curtly, though he knew that wasn’t exactly true. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” The confusion in his tone was evenly mixed with something else now; anger had introduced itself. “Except for the fact that you drugged me or something and made me forget my name.” Beau’s feet danced on that little box, unable to keep still for even the slightest moment. Some moments in life were full of wonder. They wrapped around you and gave you little kisses. They lighted the flames in your belly and filled you with passion. That is how this completely random act of revenge felt for Beau. Gael had lied to him online, and now Beau was Gael, the liar. The leaver out of little accent marks. Beau leaned forward, elbows pressed into the cold hard plastic of the counter. “My dear, dear, f-” Beau cut himself off as the taste of ashes filled his tongue. Calling Gael a friend would have been a lie. Beau was many things, but not a liar. He knew it was only because of fae restrictions, but he couldn’t be too mad when the same magic that kept him from lying enabled his name collection.

“Foe.” Beau finished the statement. Because it was true. Beau hated this man in front of him. This man had deliberately lied to him online, and now Beau could read the look in his eyes. It was accusatory. As if Beau was the one in the wrong. As if Beau was a squish bug under his pristine pair of loafers, waiting to be squished. Beau knew that look well. The look that everything was wrong with him. Beau retained his smile. To his advantage, his smile wasn’t forced. His smile could never be forced when he was having this much fun. 

Reaching a finger forward, Beau lightly tapped the man formerly known as Gael on the nose. “Come now. How would I drug you here? At the BMV? The only thing I did was take a piece of paper from your hands and read it. Now I need you to think deep within you, and give me something good. Anything. The first thing that comes to mind. Give me something nice and juicy, something that really means something to you and I will help you with this little forgetfulness problem you’re having. After all,” Beau shot back up into a standing position, arms raising as if to say ‘look where we are’. “I’m a public employee. It is my greatest passion to help.” ‘Foe’. Oh, so this was about some misperceived sleight 32a had committed against Beau in their incredibly short interaction online. Was it because he said ‘cheesed’ was a negative thing? Was it something else? He legitimately couldn’t trace the interaction that went from seemingly ‘best friends’ to him standing there like an idiot with no name because of some…. He didn’t know what it was that Beau had done to him. 32a kept his narrowed eyes on the employee, one of his eyebrows twitching as the latter tapped him on the nose but he didn’t dare react or take his gaze off the smaller man. He felt his muscles tensing up, his hand balling into a tighter fist on the counter, slowly feeling more unexplainable frustration bubbling up inside him. He wasn’t sure how to answer, either - it wasn’t logically possible for Beau to have done something to him and only him without him knowing about it. So, while Beau put on some theatrics, 32a forced himself to look down in thought at what could possibly count as a ‘juicy enough’ secret that Beau would want in exchange for… helping him relearn his name. He had no idea what sort of magic trick he performed to make 32a forget it but along with anger, there was this innate desperation behind his thoughts - no name, no credentials. No professor name, no recognition. His identity was missing. Who WAS he? He turned his head slowly to regard the rest of the BMV; were they staring at him? Did they know who he was? . . . Then again… 32a quirked an eyebrow as the thought of eyes on his back made him remember something. It wasn’t his name, unfortunately, but a completely outrageous thought that someone suggested to him before. A thought that could’ve counted as a deep, dark secret, and totally fake. He could share a fabricated supposed deep dark secret, since Beau was so dead set on this line of attack for whatever reason. “Well….” Irritation still punctuated his tone but his scowl eased up slightly. “I do have… this ONE secret but… I dunno, it’s pretty cool.” He suggested, looking sideways at Beau, biting the inside of his cheek. “You sure you’re gonna be able to handle it?”

Beau watched with ever growing glee as the man in front of him tensed up during this action. Was he angry? Beau hoped he was angry. Angry looked good on a man as handsome as him. Plus, he hoped he was as angry as Beau had been when he’d lied to Beau. He hoped he was livid. He hoped the man walked away and punched a wall. He didn’t hope the man was angry enough to punch him. No, his face was his money maker. His face was the reason everyone loved him. At least, most people. Some people. Enough people that he felt justified in saying everyone loved him and falling sick to the lie. Because it was a figure of speech, right? No one could actually know everyone. Somewhere in the world was probably a group chat of people constantly stating how much they loved him. That was important to Beau. He needed that. He hoped one day he could read all those messages. 

The man was looking down now, all shy and coy. As shy and coy as he should have been before lying to Beau. Beau who was Gael now. Ha! Wasn’t it funny? At least he was putting on a good show. Beau would hate if the secret he was so helpfully willing to trade for wasn’t something to be coy over. Beau really hoped it was some illicit sex act. A man as pretty as the liar in front of him was probably into some freaky shit. He could have been into Beau if he wasn’t a disgusting liar who Beau hated with all his heart. 

Beau kept openly smiling. “I can handle anything. I’m a big boy.” Beau laced his fingers together, a smile still plastered across his features. “Now don’t be coy. Go ahead and give me that big and juicy secret. The sooner you give me something good to work with the sooner I can help you with your identity crisis. That’s what I do here after all. I help people. I am not if not a very good civil servant.”

32a quirked an eyebrow, pausing for a long moment as Beau responded. Part of him wanted to just… deck the guy in the face and storm off but he legitimately couldn’t remember his name and the primal fear that he might never get it back was strong enough to keep him rooted to the spot, keeping the facade that he had this amazing secret and that he wasn’t lying through his teeth to get his name back from some… crazy leprechaun BMV worker who hadn’t stopped smiling and at one point got onto the ground and did mock snow-angels. He needed to be patient. 32a could do patient. “Okay, well…” He took a deep inhale and lowered his voice, stretching himself over the counter slightly and getting closer to Beau, ignoring all the junk falling out of the latter’s mouth about being ‘helpful’ and a ‘civil servant’. More like a menace who 32a was surprised still had all his teeth if this was how he was all the time. “Don’t tell ANYONE but…” He glanced around before looking Beau in the eye, his eyebrow still sharply raised. “I’m a werewolf.” He whispered, managing to keep his face completely straight though he wanted to roll his eyes really badly. He could’ve followed that up with something but honestly he was having a hard enough time selling it to himself right now and Beau was certainly the first and the last person he’d have THIS conversation with, it was so ridiculous.

 High risk, high reward. Beau knew that werewolves existed. He also knew that most people didn’t believe it. But the question here was could this man truly be a werewolf? And if he was why didn’t he know about the fae? Could he be one of those baby werewolves? Still new to his powers and no clue how this game played? That could be funny. Beau never let his smile falter as he thought through all the possibilities. Obviously, this man didn’t know how fae worked. But Beau knew how werewolves work. And if he decided to take all memory of them from this man, then he would still be a werewolf. Just a werewolf with absolutely no idea what was wrong with him.

Beau rubbed his hands together. This was a gamble he could take. “Here’s how this is going to go. You give me that secret. You say the words, I give you my knowledge that I am a werewolf. And I will give you your name back.” Beau moved his eyes back to the computer and the paper he held in his hands. Change of address. That was easy. He started putting in the information so Gael would be able to move on when this was over. “Simply say the line, for the magic to take its part, and it’s all yours.” 

32a gave Beau a long, hard look and he wanted to know if the BMV employee could catch the obvious disbelief in his eyes. Magic, seriously? As far as 32a was concerned, this whole ‘werewolf’ business might as well have been out of sight, out of mind anyway - he WASN’T a werewolf, that was utterly fictional and ridiculous. He exhaled heavily and rolled his shoulders, breaking out the stare to glance around one more time. “I…” 32a paused, as if starting to have second thoughts when he shook his head roughly and licked his lips. No, this was utter nonsense. He was ‘trading’ his name for some… bullshit excuse, a fabrication, something that wasn’t true. A lie. Magic. “I give you my knowledge that I am a werewolf.” He said in a low tone as to still be secretive about the lie, yet with clarity that he knew Beau could hear and understand. A pause. “Did it work?” Gael asked. Wait… Wait, what was his name? Gael Abelardo Córdova. He tilted his head sharply almost as though hearing something for the first time. Immediately he felt a surge of some… unidentifiable strong emotion pulse through his frame and he almost collapsed on the floor out of the weight of this emotion, though he had no idea what it was. “What did…” He breathed. “What did you do?” He asked. “How did you do that?” He looked sideways at Beau, leaning against the counter for support to keep his legs from giving out under him.

Beau always knew when the magic took effect. It was hard to explain, but it was like there were threads that held a person together. When Beau took a name, the magic would snip that thread from a person, and it would stitch itself into the pattern that was Beau. Beau could feel the magic work, snipping and stitching the new memories, the new thoughts, into their new places. Beautiful. Efficient. Everything he loved about being a fae at work.

“Now now now!” Beau waggled a little finger at the name returned Gael. “I can’t tell you all my secrets or you’ll refuse to go and have dinner with me. Think how cute we can be eating dinner together? You with your name, me with the knowledge of what you really are? Say, you wouldn’t happen to know when the next full moon is?” Beau asked. All hatred for this man was gone. Instead there was an intense longing to follow this man to the next full moon and see if the trade had been worth it. If it had been a hoax, well then Beau would shower a reign of vengeance so deep on this man he would wish his name was no longerGael Córdova. 

Beau kept typing at his little work station. Change of address, change of address done. Because he was such a nice guy he even waived the fee. “We’re going to need a new picture for your license today.” Beau started fidgeting with the gadgets around his desk, making sure the camera was set up perfectly to face the man in front of him. “Smile!” Beau didn’t wait for the man to arrange his features in any particular way. He snapped the picture right away then got back to typing at the computer. Within a few moments the new license was being printed out and Beau was handing it to Gael.

“So about that dinner. This saturday? Somewhere candlelit? Just the two of us? Actually, I think a picnic under a full moon would be better. Did you say you knew when the next full moon was? I forget. We should meet then.” 

Of course Beau wouldn’t actually say what it is that happened to spontaneously make Gael forget his name, what… invisible chemical he’d given him or maybe it was a particular set of words, like how people in cults would be mass-brainwashed into doing or thinking a certain thing. Sleeper agents. He was being ridiculous; almost as ridiculous as the gremlin behind the counter suggesting they go on a date. Gael didn’t have enough time to respond to that with anything other than a glower when Beau suddenly informed him that they needed an updated picture and in an instant, his expression changed, his eyes darting to the camera that the employee fiddled with and he barely had time to force a small, practiced smile before the light flashed. He probably looked horrible considering the roller coaster of emotions he’d gone through the past… ten minutes. Was it really that short a duration of time? He felt like he’d forgotten his name for eons and he hated it. If whatever that was never happened to him again, it’d be too soon though it BETTER not ever happen again. He wasn’t going to be so… cordial next time. As Gael was handed the new license, looking at his picture - and rather surprised he didn’t look worse - he shot Beau another glare. “I have a myriad of questions,” He started slowly - he had half a mind to give Beau a swift punch in the face before leaving without another word but as his heart rate slowed back down, he was just too… infuriatingly curious to leave this whole thing behind him quite yet. “But I’ll only ask two. One is “what makes you think I know when the next full moon is”?” He asked. “I’m a chemist, not an astronomer. Second is “what part of any of this interaction makes you think I’d go on a date with you”?” If absolutely nothing else, he couldn’t… Well, he certainly wondered what wellspring of confidence came from. Gael was confident but Beau was something different.

“I’m sure you have a myriad of questions. I would love to answer each and every one one of them for you.” Another unwelcomed finger reached out to tap Gael’s nose. There was nothing professional about the asshole standing behind the counter. “But not here. We’re on a time limit. Any moment now my manager is going to come out here and ask me what's taking so long. Then I’ll have to explain all about how you forgot your name and you were really going through it. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing for you? I don’t want to embarass you. As for your second question, I was just trying to be nice. I was just trying to offer you closure on this encounter. If you don’t want it,” Beau lifted his hands into the air trying to put on his most innocent face. “I don’t need to help you. It’s not like I’m the only one who knows what happened here.” 

Beau looked down at the chemist’s pockets. “You don’t have the next full moon date saved in your phone? You don’t keep track of it because you always feel bad after a full moon?” These questions would only serve to confuse the man. The thoughts wouldn’t sit right with him. At all times he’d be able to comprehend werewolveism and him. It was okay. Beau could wait for the pay off of the gamble. After all, Beau knew where he lived now. Before he could forget, Beau printed off a copy of Gael’s I.D., hoping the man wouldn’t notice the printer going again. Even if he did, what was he going to do about it? The printer was safely on Beau’s side of the counter. “Think about it! You know where to find me.” He didn’t the first time but Gael reacted to the boop on his nose this time, sharply moving his head away not unlike a dog or a child refusing to eat something. His furrow increased and he opened his mouth to say something but Beau continued, going on about how the manager would go up there and make a big scene and while Gael wasn’t normally a stranger to being confronted in such a manner, for some reason the thought made his stomach do flips. So… his eyes danced on the counter in front of him as he– Wait what the actual hell did Beau mean by ‘I’m not the only one who knows what happened here’? Gael caught Beau looking down at him, probably no doubt searching for something else he could… what, steal? Aside from Gael’s name and time? And what was with the man’s sudden obsession with the moon? The professor rolled his eyes irritably and quickly darted a glance up to the camera that was boring down on him - he couldn’t make a scene, he’d get in trouble with the university. He also wanted to never see Beau ever again if he could avoid it and yet… “I… I–” Gael stammered, then faltered into silence for another moment before he snatched up his paperwork and jabbed his finger into Beau’s face this time though he wasn’t going to dignify the man with any touching. “Call it what you want but I expect some answers next time we see each other if I’m unlucky enough to,” He growled in a dangerously low voice. “About what you did and who else knows and why you think I give a shit about the full moon or ANY cycles of the moon or– whatever.” He gave Beau one last, narrow glare before taking a step back away from the counter. “Thank you for your help today.” That was his final word before he turned on a heel and stormed out of the waiting room, carrying himself as tall as he could for one so suddenly unsure about how easily things could be stripped from his fabric of memory.

[kankuroplease]

Yes these people haha

Mangetsu - that him and and Suigetsu have one too many things in common as she would his type 💀

Orochimaru - wasted potential like so many of her relatives (maybe more as she can use wood release. How did he miss that?). Also her enthusiasm for travel reminds him of a younger Tora

Sasuke - he doesn’t get it, nor is he trying to

Karin - thinks she hugs way too hard but smells really good. Sweet and talented lady, she can probably find a nicer beau tho

Jugo - wouldn’t know what to think until meets her always present squirrel companion. Then he’d think she’s a kind person as she seems to love animals and being one with nature