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henwilsonmd · 1 year

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post 6x18: some out-of-order vignettes | ao3

4251 words

“Buck,” said Eddie, trying to school his face into something less fond and amused. “That’s my couch.”

Buck turned from where he’d been happily showing off the new piece of furniture he’d gotten with Natalia the day prior. “What?”

“The couch,” Eddie repeated, with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You bought my exact couch.”

“No,” Buck replied with a shake of his head. “No, it’s definitely different.”

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Eddie looked at it—a three-seater in dark blue, velvet-y fabric with square corners and deep seats to accommodate his long legs. They’d picked out some nice white decorative pillows for it, and it’s certainly brand-new looking, but—

“It’s totally the same.” Eddie gave up on hiding his smile.

Buck looked back to the couch, tilting his head to scrutinize it. After a moment, he sighed, planting his hands on his hips. “Ah, fuck. It’s totally the same.”

Eddie groaned, letting his head thump back onto the edge of the cot behind him. “The pain meds are definitely kicking in.”

“Well, good,” snarked Buck from a chair next to him, attention half-focused on his phone in his hands. “That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

Eddie sighed, long-suffering. “You too?”

“Yes, Eddie, me too.” Buck replied, thumbs flying as he tapped out something on the screen in his hands. Probably to Maddie. Probably about Chim. Who was probably okay. “Your ribs are fucking broken.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, staring at the ceiling. “And I know what they feel like. I’m fine, there was—other stuff going on.” He thought about that paramedic from the 133 shining a penlight into Hen’s eyes, frowning like he didn’t like the results and going back in to do it again. He thought about the constant jitter of Buck’s leg next to him, the constant worry for Bobby and Chimney who’d taken the other two ambulances before the three of them had managed to squeeze into another cab. “Besides,” Eddie pulled himself back on track. “Did you even get checked out?” He leveled Buck with a look that he hoped had more energy behind it than he had left.

Buck shrugged, powering off his phone with a click. “I’m fine.”

“There’s blood all over your face,” Eddie pointed out.

“Hen cleaned most of it up already.”

“There was more?”

“That’s—Eddie, I’m fine,” Buck said, turning towards him. “I scraped up my cheek and bit my tongue when I fell, and, sure, I’ll be a little bruised, but I’m fine.”

“You lost consciousness,” Eddie pointed out, and he swallowed around a dry throat.

“How… how did you know that?” Buck stuttered in reply.

Eddie gave his own shrug, picking at the edge of the right kneepad on his turnout pants. “I didn’t pass out. I radioed right after I’d gotten my bearings, but no one answered. Then, like, thirty seconds later you must have woken up.”

Buck, for a moment, held Eddie’s gaze with something so unbelievably devastated, and guilty—like the thought of not being able to answer Eddie’s call was the worst possible thing that had happened that day. Then he flicked his eyes down to the floor. “Okay, s-so, like, thirty seconds. I’m fine, Eddie. Really.”

Eddie frowned, thinking about those thirty seconds—an unbearable weight on his back, a growing pain in his chest, and the clawing panic as he listened to the silence stretching out on the other side of the radio and fought the mounting urge to plead, I’m still alive, please, I’m still alive down here.

And then how he’d breathed a hugely painful sigh of relief when Buck finally asked for a headcount, how he’d fumbled into his pocket for his St. Christopher medal and prayed—something he hadn’t done since that awful week of the coma. Prayed that he’d come home safe to his son, but also that Buck would be careful—that he wouldn’t do something stupid and destructive and reckless to save any of them.

That heady rush of gratitude when Buck had sawed the doors open, taking off his safety goggles and assessing Eddie’s situation with a calculating, heavy gaze.

Next to him, Buck cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. “Anyway, you broke three ribs, man. Let the meds do their job.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, leaning back into the pillows behind him. “Trust me, they are.”

Eddie sipped his Diet Coke, beer off-limits because he was still taking the Tylenol threes. “So, you finally got a new couch.”

“I had a couch before,” Buck pointed out, a matching soda in his hand for solidarity. “Kameron just—y’know, gave birth all over it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, snorting a soft laugh. “That must have been wild.”

Buck chuckled. “The baby didn’t want to wait, I guess.”

“Impatient little guy,” Eddie said. “Must be those Buckley genes.”

“Hey,” Buck protested, pointing a finger. “I can be plenty patient.”

“Sure,” Eddie agreed placatingly, but be noticed how there seemed to be something more behind the mirth in Buck’s eyes—the plastic pieces at the edges of his smile. He fought the urge to say I told you so—mostly because it would have been childish, but also because Buck hadn’t asked for his opinion at any step of the way, and Eddie hadn’t offered.

Eddie decided to wait him out—usually the best course of action when it came to Buck. Eddie understood intimately how much time it could take to parse through a mess of feelings in your brain and formulate them into words that would make sense to another person. Usually, Eddie would sit quietly and sip his beer while watching Buck’s feelings play out on his unguarded face, and after a minute or two Buck would haltingly begin to explain what had been going on with him.

Eddie had tried to explain that to Maddie when they’d both been nearly sick with worry over Buck’s post-coma mental state. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready,” Eddie had said over the phone. “You can’t force him to talk about it.”

“Eddie, you don’t know him like I do,” Maddie had protested. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

And Eddie had opened his mouth to say no, actually, I know him better than you, I know him better than anyone, but—that’s not true, is it? Why would Eddie know Buck better than his own sister, who’s spent the entire thirty years of his life caring for him, when Eddie’s only had him for—what, five years? Then subtract all the things they didn’t talk to each other about and all the issues they’ve had, and—yeah, who is Eddie to say what’s best for Buck?

And then Buck had knocked on his door and passed out on his couch and Eddie had felt righteously vindicated in a way that he almost wanted to rub in Maddie’s face, which was kind of bitchy of him to think.

So, Buck sipped his soda next to Eddie on his new couch, a storm of emotions clear on his face, and Eddie waited him out because that’s what he does.

Buck let out a sigh, and Eddie thought, here it is, he’ll let me in, and then— “Want to watch the Dodgers game?”

Eddie blinked. “Um, sure.”

And Buck turned on the TV.

Doubt roiled in Eddie’s gut.

“What about Hen?” Eddie asked, Buck’s hand tight on his arm as he helped him into the passenger seat of the Jeep.

“Karen already took her home, she’s fine,” Buck replied easily, before he shut the door and rounded the front of the car.

He’d left when Eddie had been taken back for x-rays, taking an Uber back to the station to pick up his car so he could come back to get Eddie and drive them both home. Eddie absently wondered when he would get a chance to get his truck from the station parking lot.

Buck hopped into the driver’s seat, fitting his keys in the ignition but pausing before turning the engine. He fixed Eddie with a gentle, reassuring look. “Seriously, man, everyone’s fine. Athena’s with Bobby, Maddie’s with Chim, let’s go home.”

Eddie swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about just how close literally every single one of them except Ravi had come to something far more serious than some hospital bills and time off work.

His gaze slid to Buck, who flashed him that small, soft, close-mouthed smile that Eddie rarely saw—the one that made his chest feel warm and gooey.

“Okay. Let’s go home.”

The Dodgers were losing, and Buck wasn’t talking about it. Eddie tried not to either of those things get to him.

During a commercial break, Buck got up to throw their empty pizza boxes away, waving Eddie off as he moved to help.

When he came back into the living room, he paused under the overhang of the loft, just staring at Eddie.

“What?” he asked, a bit self-conscious.

Buck huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bought your couch.”

Eddie snorted. “Don’t worry about it, man. It’s flattering. You think I have good taste.”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s it. Half the furniture in your house is from Target.”

Eddie sputtered. “I—what’s wrong with Target furniture?”

Buck, lowering himself back onto the cushions next to Eddie, raised his hands in a show of innocence. “Nothing, man. I just—I don’t know if I would call it good taste.”

Having no comeback, Eddie just whacked him in the shoulder.

Buck laughed, playfully pushing his hand away. “Hey, c’mon, don’t start shit when I can’t retaliate.”

Eddie smirked. “Why? ‘Cause you know you can’t take me?”

“No,” Buck denied. “’Cause your ribs are still fucking broken.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Buck.”

“Well.” Buck crossed his arms, turning back to the TV as the next inning started. “Forgive me for wanting to be careful.”

For a moment, Eddie considered saying hey, maybe we should talk about how I could’ve almost died again? But Buck clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about the big things, and Eddie didn’t really want to think about that yet either, so he settled for bumping their shoulders together.

Buck leaned right back into him, and neither of them moved apart—the comforting warmth of the contact buzzing in Eddie’s brain like the alcohol he wasn’t drinking.

Eddie smiled down at his hands. “You like my couch,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck groused, slouching into the cushions as they watched a batter swing and miss yet again. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Are you sure you’re both alright?” Carla asked, a worried hand hovering over his elbow. “I caught some of the collapse on the news.”

Eddie flashed her a smile before turning to pour two glasses of water—one for him and one for Buck, who was off in Christopher’s room. “We’re okay,” he said. “A little banged up, but the doctors said I should be back to work in six weeks or less.”

Carla narrowed her eyes. “You better take that full six weeks.”

Eddie set the Brita down and met her gaze. “I’m fine, Carla. Really.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “I just—I worry about you, Eddie. Okay? I know you’d rather I didn’t, but I can’t help it.”

Eddie ducked his head and smiled, a bit, filled with that familiar half-disbelief that people really do care about him. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but—I was lucky today. That nothing worse happened, that—that Buck was there to pull me out.”

Carla scoffed. “Of course he was. I don’t think luck had anything to do with that one.”

Eddie tried to fight the blush off his cheeks—he didn’t know what to do with that. Carla’s surety that Buck would save him come hell or high water. His own surety that Buck would be ripping open the doors of that camper van any second now.

When she realized he wasn’t going to say anything, Carla cleared her throat. “I should go. You up for a hug?”

“From you?” Eddie responded easily. “Always.”

Carla pulled him into a gentle-but-still-desperate embrace. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair.” With a frown, she brought a hand up to ruffle the wilting mess on Eddie’s head. “Your dusty-ass hair. Take a shower, alright?”

Eddie laughed. “Alright, alright.”

“It’s a little early for a welcome back party, don’t you think?” Eddie said as Athena hugged him in greeting, Christopher heading off in search of the other kids.

“You and Bobby are headed back tomorrow,” Athena pointed out.

“Yeah, and Chimney’s not back for another two weeks.”

“And you best believe I’ll throw another party for him.”

Eddie laughed, before venturing further into the house to greet everyone else. His ribs had healed perfectly, barely a twinge when he’d thrown himself onto the couch in triumph yesterday. Which—speaking of, Eddie’s phone was burning a hole in his pocket and he was doing a very good job of ignoring that.

Or, he was, until a lull in conversation found him standing alone in the kitchen and pulling it out of his jeans. No texts. Which—of course, they’d agreed to go for coffee after his shift on Friday, why would she text him before that—but, still. Eddie was nervous. Sue him.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment while he debates if it’s too much of a desperate move to text Marisol before they even go on a date. Christopher would know.

“Who are you texting?” asked a voice, and Eddie fumbled to turn off his phone and shove it in his pocket before someone could see… what?

He looked up to see Buck smiling at his antics, a beer in hand.

“Oh, it’s you,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the counter.

Buck sidled over to join him, staring out the windows at the backyard where the party was in full swing. “Just me. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie replied, for some reason hoping desperately that Buck wouldn’t ask him about—

“So,” Buck nudged an elbow into his arm. “Who were you texting?”

—fuck. Eddie wasn’t sure why this felt like something he didn’t want to tell Buck, to whom he tells everything, but… they don’t really talk about their girlfriends? It was always, always awkward, and it always left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

But, Eddie’s excited about this. Marisol probably won’t be the one, or whatever, but—still. Eddie was excited that his brain was finally in a place where he could think about opening up his life to someone and it wouldn’t send him into a panic attack that landed him in the ER.

And Buck asked.

And Eddie’s not in the habit of saying no to him.

“Um,” he started. “Do you remember Marisol? From the—”

“—yeah, yeah!” Buck cut him off. “So, you were texting her?” He raised his eyebrows, a knowing glint in his gaze.

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, uh… we’re going on a date?” he said quietly, a pit of dread or something similar opening in his gut.

Buck was quiet for a moment, and Eddie risked a glance at his face. He just caught the edge of something shocked and maybe fearful in his expression before it cleared and was replaced by one of those huge, sunny smiles.

“Eddie!” Buck exclaimed. “That’s great! Oh my god, man, this is awesome,” he enthused, slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and squeezing him close.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, still unsure why part of him felt sick with guilt.

“Hey, ever notice how we always start dating at the same time?”

“No, do we?” Eddie lied, thinking about how he’d agonized over making the call and kept telling himself Buck’s with Natalia now, you should do this.

Buck laughed again, before he jolted with surprise and turned to Eddie, excitedly slapping him on the arm. “Dude! We can go on double dates now!”

Eddie frowned. “We didn’t last time.”

Buck shrugged. “Well, you didn’t like Taylor, so I figured—”

“I liked Taylor,” Eddie protested.

Buck snorted. “Uh, no, you didn’t.”

Eddie tilted his head in a you-got-me face. “I kind of didn’t. I thought you didn’t notice.”

Buck dropped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders again, making Eddie huff out a breath. “Oh, Edmundo, I always notice.”

No you don’t, Eddie thought, and then he ignored that.

“But,” Buck continued, a hesitation in his voice. “You—you like Natalia, right?”

Eddie didn’t really know her at all, except for how excited she’d been about Buck’s death-that-didn’t-stick and how angry that had made him. “Yeah,” Eddie lied again. “She’s good for you. And she has good taste in couches.”

Buck laughed, relieved. “Good. So—we’ll do a double date, yeah? Me, you, Natalia, Marisol.”

Fuck, no. Eddie thought. That sounds awful.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie said instead. “That sounds great.”

Eddie was in the kitchen, pre-heating the oven to heat up some frozen chicken tenders because he didn’t have the energy to cook anything else when he felt little arms wrap gently around his midsection. It hurt his ribs, but Eddie didn’t have the heart to dislodge his son—not when these hugs were becoming rarer and rarer each day.

“Hey, kid,” Eddie said, turning in the hold and dropping a hand onto Christopher’s head. “What’s up?”

Eddie had already seen him, when he popped his head into Christopher’s room to find him sitting with Buck, a careful hand brushing the wounds on the man’s cheek. The sight had made something massive and unknowable bloom inside Eddie’s broken chest, threatening to choke him. He’d tamped it down and hugged Chris hello before heading off to shower, but apparently that hadn’t been enough.

Chris looked up, propping his chin on Eddie’s sternum. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, a tightness in his voice betraying him.

Eddie smiled. “Me too.” Even though it sparked the ache in his side into a bona-fide pain, Eddie leaned over to drop a kiss onto Christopher’s head—something he barely tolerates anymore. “Hey, the doctors said I’d be good as new in six weeks. Think you can deal with having me around all the time for that long?”

Chris laughed, bright and happy, and Eddie’s heart sang. “I’ll try,” he joked, and then something clouded passed over his face. “Buck’s okay, too, right? His face is bloody.”

“Oh, buddy,” Eddie sighed. Usually, he would kneel down to meet Christopher’s gaze, but he settled for easing himself into a chair and ignoring the concerned look Chris was giving him. “Buck’s totally fine, he just got scraped up a little bit. And today was pretty—pretty scary. For both of us.” He swallowed down the urge to berate himself for telling his kid he was scared, and it seemed to be the right move, because Chris nodded along with wide, careful eyes.

Eddie sighed again, settling his hands on his son’s shoulders. “But—tell you what. Buck’s gonna stay with us tonight, and he’s pretty bad at taking care of himself, right?” Chris giggled at that, and Eddie smiled in response. “So you and I are gonna have to be sneaky about taking care of him tonight, okay?”

Eddie expected Chris to give another sweet smile, and maybe to offer some comfort so earnest and childlike in its innocence that it made everything in the world feel right again, so he wasn’t quite sure to do when Chris burst out into loud, raucous laughter.

“Okay, what’s so funny?” he said, playing at being annoyed.

“It’s just,” Chris managed through his massive smile. “That’s exactly what Buck said. About you!”

Eddie just blinked in response, and Chris fell into peals of laughter again. “Okay,” Eddie said with mock-offense. “Okay, I see how it is. Gang up on the injured guy, why don’t you.”

“Da-ad,” Chris whined, fixing him with a very grown-up look. “We just care about you.”

Eddie pursed his lips, that unknown emotion threatening to drown him again. “Yeah,” he said, more choked-up than he would like. “I know.”

A small hand covered his, and Eddie flipped his own over to give it a squeeze. “Why don’t you go put on the next episode of María, okay? We’ll translate for Buck.”

Chris smirked. “You mean you’ll translate for Buck.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, kid,” Eddie offered as Chris disappeared into the living room.

And later, when they were all piled on the couch, Christopher giggling at Eddie’s half-assed translations and Buck protesting that he understands more Spanish than you think, guys, the newest dose of pain meds forced upon him by Buck making his head more than a bit fuzzy, Eddie thought to himself: I wish it could be like this forever.

Buck shouted in exaggerated outrage to make Chris laugh, gesturing at some ridiculous plot point playing out on the screen, and Eddie let that huge wave of feeling bowl him over—that world-ending, all-consuming love.

Just this. Forever.

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Hen said, a hand raised to keep Eddie quiet. “He has this whole thing about his girlfriends being couches, and the couch he finally bought is your couch?”

Feeling somehow embarrassed, Eddie just nodded. Hen shared a smirk with Chimney, sitting on the lawn chair that Maddie hadn’t let him move from for the entire party.

“That’s like—almost romantic,” Chimney snorted.

“What?” Eddie said.

“He’s been looking for the perfect couch, but it was yours all along!” Chim crowed, and Hen dissolved into giggles. She was definitely more than a little drunk.

“It’s so sweet, Eddie, come on,” she needled.

“Well, sure, but—” Eddie sputtered. “—romantic? Come on, guys.”

“No, you—you come on.” Hen said around a hiccup. “You guys are—Buck and Eddie! Eddie and Buck!”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied with a frown. “And you guys are Hen and Chim.”

“Nah, no, no, no,” Chim said with a wagging finger. “It’s not the same.”

“How is it not the same?” Eddie threw his hands in the air, one hampered by the half-full bottle in his hand. “You guys are partners, just like us.”

“Yeah, but,” Hen said. “You guys are partners,” she explained, trying for some hand gesture that must have gotten lost in the all the alcohol and rush of the party because she just ended up clasping her hands together awkwardly.

“You guys are crazy,” Eddie said with a long-suffering shake of his head.

“And you’re crazy about Buck,” Hen said in an it’s-so-obvious whisper.

Eddie drew back. “What?”

“Hen—” Chimney started, a hand on her arm.

She shook him off. “No, I gotta—Eddie, you and Buck are like, perfect for each other. You love him, right?” Her eyes were wide and earnest behind her glasses.

“Of course I do,” Eddie said automatically.

Hen gestured emphatically, whacking Chim on the shoulder like this proved her point.

“Hen,” Eddie said gently. “Did you forget that I’m straight?”

Hen scowled, like she did not want to be reminded of this fact. “Okay, but like—if Buck was a girl, you would have asked him out by now. You’d be like—fucking married by now.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but found his mind stuck on Hen’s words. If Buck was a girl. Him and Buck, married. Eddie felt far drunker than he should be off just one and a half beers.

“Eddie, ignore her,” Chim cut in.

Hen frowned. “I’m going to find Karen,” she declared.

Eddie watched her retreating form, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “He’s my best friend,” he said belatedly.

“Eddie.” Chimney kicked his leg. “Ignore her, okay? She’s drunk.”

“Yeah, but—” Eddie started.

“Look,” Chim sighed. “We joke about you and Buck sometimes, okay?”

“You do?” Eddie asked.

“Little stuff,” Chimney assured. “Just, like, you’re each other’s favorite person and you’re missing what’s right in front of you, or whatever.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, to refute—what?—but Chim continued.

“But they’re just jokes, okay? We know you’re both straight. I mean, it’d be great if you weren’t, or whatever, but that’s not the world we live in.”

Eddie’s jaw closed with a click. He sipped his beer.

“He’s your best friend.” Eddie looked back to Chimney. “And that’s—” He seemed to search Eddie’s face for a moment. “That’s enough, right?”

Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Exactly,” Chim agreed with an easy smile. “So, don’t worry about it, okay? She’s just drunk and forgot that we don’t make those jokes in front of you guys.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. Besides, Buck has a girlfriend, and—I have a date on Friday, so…”

“You have a date on Friday?” Chimney exclaimed. “That’s great!”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice flat.

Chimney clapped him on the forearm, unable to reach his shoulder from his sitting position. “Look, man, you’ll find that perfect girl-version of Buck out there, okay? I believe.”

Eddie chuckled. “Sure.”

He looked out to the party—his eyes immediately found Buck, head thrown back in laughter at something Athena had said. The string lights of the backyard made his styled curls shine with a honey-colored fire, his fingers curled carelessly around the neck of a beer bottle made Eddie’s mouth feel suddenly dry.

Just this. Just you, Eddie thought.

“You’re right,” he said to Chimney with a hollow smile. “I’ll find someone.”

#I'M BACK BABY #ofc i HAD to write a coda for this one come on #if this gets interaction i'll probably post on ao3 bc it's pretty long so i'll come back and edit this post if that's the case #anyway i have a LOT of wips that i'm planning on finishing and i want to be more active on here/make some friends #so drop a follow if you want to see any of that lol #anyway this was just a fun little thing that i hope y'all enjoy!#911 #911 fic #911 fanfic #911 6x18 #911 6x18 coda #writing #drabbles #even though it's not really a drabble i want it with the rest of my codas #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #buddie

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ahundredtimesover · 1 year

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Hi 👋🏽 I’ll be going on an indefinite break that may (or may not) be for good.

Writing fanfiction was an escape for me these past 2 years. It was a way to express my love for the tannies in how I wrote them as comfort characters, and it was a way for me to make sense of my own experiences and emotions. These fics have always been very personal, with a bit of me in every OC, my pains reflected in their stories, and words I wish someone told me growing up expressed in the dialogues. And I’ll always be so thankful that many of you related with them, found meaning in them, and found comfort in them. That will always be my favorite part 💜💜 stories are so powerful! They’ve allowed me to connect with so many people and make memories in this (mostly) lovely part of the site.

But the process of writing has also been draining, not as cathartic as it used to be, and not as fulfilling. So much as I find myself going back and forth with the numerous stories in my drafts, I can’t bring myself to continue with them. Not anytime soon, at least. Maybe one day the itch to write will be so intense, or JJK1/KTH1 drops and I’ll lose my shit (Untitled and Belong were born out of Indigo and D-day after all), or after rereading my stories, I’ll miss writing so much. The thing is, I’ve never loved BTS as much as I do right now; perhaps I’m content with screaming about that love to myself in the meantime.

I’ll be lurking around here, maybe pop in every once in a while (so plagiarists, keep off my work, pls). My stories will remain here as your comfort 😌 and I’ll do my best to put out the PLM drabbles I promised! Other than that, all the stories are complete for you to enjoy (sorry to those waiting on TLA 😔 I hate that I’m unable to continue). I also have Twitter (jmimi_mi). I’m also just a lurker but say hi if you want! 😊 we can talk bts and fics and whatnot over there (I’ll try, I promise).

Please give love to the authors who are still lovingly putting out work for the community! 🥰

#tl;dr I’ll be on an indefinite break bc the writing just isn’t working for now!#and I love BTS #and thank you so much for appreciating the stories!#PLM drabble will still come some day!#++ I know I’ve had multiple breaks but srsly now my brain is too fried to write like #I have so many ideas that stay in my head and it’s so frustrating that I feel like unless I say I’m taking a break from writing #for a longer period this time then I’ll just keep pressuring myself to write something and it’s winter break and I don’t want pressure #especislly if it’s coming from me! lol also all the stories in my drafts are meant to be LONG and I might not have the energy to finish it #and you guys know I don’t put out anything unfinished so yeah 😔#it also sucks that I haven’t read in SO LONG so yes tumblr u are losing me I’m sry 😢#i also just wanted to say all this if this is for good so yes THANK U and UR ALL WONDERFUL #mimi things #mimi rambles

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landinrris · 7 months

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You're The First Thing That I'm Thinking Of

Pairings: Carlos/Lando

Overall Rating: T

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” Tags: Spa 2021, Lando's Qualifying Crash, Minor Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort,

Lando and Carlos tease each other on the parade truck during the Austria 2022 race weekend.

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should." Tags: Austria 2022 Driver's Parade, Mild Exhibitionist Tendencies, Teasing, They're too in love for their own good

Lando crashes during qualifying in Spa and Carlos is there to make sure he's okay

Or: An ever-to-be-updated collection of Carlando-related drabbles based on different generated prompts

#Wanted to set up a place for my carlando prompts/drabbles/writing exercises so they don't rot forever in my gdocs.#As soon as these current big two projects are finished hopefully I'll have some more time for these #carlando #husbands™#writing tag

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yourlazykitkat · 5 months

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azris wip

“I can’t,” Azriel fumed, disgust settling over his body like dust in a forgotten home, “I can’t leave you alone.”

Good, Eris thinks hysterically, I’ve never wanted to be alone. “That hardly seems like my problem.”

And then, because Eris Vanserra is a selfish creature, he touches the skin- too cold- below Azriel’s left ear, fascinated by the shiver that follows. Icy repulsion is etched in the shadowsinger's stone face, similar to when the youngest Acheron sister had anxiously fretted over his wounds, when the Ilyrian’s sworn brothers had held him for warmth. But unlike them, there was no sudden uproar to try scare Eris away, no aggressive physicality to draw a line between them. Perhaps the shadowsinger already understood that if there were such a line, Eris would’ve pushed and pulled and pushed till he owned every space which Azriel left behind, left untouched.

Why the man had surrendered to his touch and his alone- the thought made Eris giddy. Undeserving. Eris swallows inexplicable emotion as the wretched sight of Azriel, ashened and queasy, makes him let go.

A desperate whimper and suddenly, the shadowsinger is too close. His face is riddled with horror and shame, eyes wide as if he hadn’t understood what he had just done or why.

The Autumn Prince’s lips stretch wickedly and his hands return to their sanctum. There's a tightening ache in his own chest, “Are you brave enough to tell me why you want this? Is it simply solace from the cold?”

“Eris-”

And then, because Eris Vanserra is a cruel creature, he casts his fingertips alight with flame as he presses them into frozen skin like snubbing a cigar into an ash-tray. Azriel gasps, pain taut in his beautiful eyes. He shakes in anger but for all his protest and drama, he stays exactly where Eris can hurt him.

“Good boy,” He coos, mean laughter escaping him when the trembling man glares at him- spiteful, humiliated, piercing. In mockery of an apology, Eris blows hot air on the pink blisters with his other hand on Azriel’s waist- locking the other in place. He shudders when the Ilyrian moans. Eris is tempted to kiss the skin a breath below his lips, deliberating between sadism, in which he wishes to see Azriel’s pained face when he’s kissed, and mercy- a dull knife to put a messy end to the shadowsinger's conundrum. Inexplicable emotion rises in his throat like bile.

“Put some ointment on those,” Eris says, stepping back. His fingertips are cold and sore now and he smirks before turning away, “Or don’t.”

#azris #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #i’m just a delulu girl living in an azris world #azris supremacy #acotar #without spoilers azriel is cursed not internalised homophobia #wip im working on to hopefully be done by azris week #also hoping posting some of the stuff i write will be motivation to finish one of my azris drabbles #if i had prythian dick for each time i wrote eris hurting azriel and not realise azriel is very into it #i would have three children

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l0v3sickl0s3r · 6 months

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ughhh oughhh my burnt out selfshipperz, this is for u mwa mwa mwa 😚 😚 😚 /peepee 👁 👁

you were sat at your desk, fucking mountains of paperwork piled up in front of you with a pencil in your hand… for the fourth time in a row. high amounts of stress were doing you wonders! like wacky sleep schedules, mood swings, and- shit you forgot about that missing assignment again.

your f/o noticed.

as if right on cue, they walk into the room and immediately notice how stressed out you seemed. they sigh, walk over to you and hug you from behind, which startled you at first… but then you felt the warmth of their arms wrapped around your waist and their chin resting on your shoulder. you softly chuckled.

“what’s this about, honey?” you asked, being unintentionally reminded of your tired ass voice.

“what do you think it’s about? you’re stressed, and i care about you. therefore, i must comfort you.” your f/o declared, a smug smile on their face.

you chuckled once more. “well, don’t keep me from working. i gotta-“

that’s when they swept you off your feet and walked you to bed. “no. at least take a break. i’ll get you anything you need; snacks, drinks, sleep,” they chuckle, “just know that you’re safe with me, ‘kay? and later, i could help you with your work if you want.”

“…thanks. i love you, f/o.”

“i love you too, y/n.”

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spotaus · 2 months

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Me frfr ^

I've been reading a fic today as a treat for finally being on vacation, and when I say I've just been entranced I mean it. (Also. The fic in question is @ancientschampionau 's well, Ancients & Champions fic lol! It's captivated me >:])

#spotatalk #N #I have to take a quick shower break and perhaps go consume some more food #but I wanted to do a quick doodle that turned into an animation because I love drawing N's tail lmao #and the blue blob was meant to be a Blahaj but I did not give enough energy to that one-#and RIGHT as I finished this Ancients posted a new git dang drabble for realage au so I know what I'm digging into later haha!#(bonus unrelated fact: my legs are too long for my bed so I usually end up doing exactly as pictured above lmao #doesn't help I don't actually use pillows but don't move them either si there's a chunk of unused space... ANYWAYS)#hi mutuals and followers and strangers you shoukd totally go read this fic #I'm on chapter 42 and am MUNCHING on it #one last note: me actually drawing my persona? huh??? that doesn't happen often?

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baalzebufo · 1 month

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good ol fashioned razzmatazz

SO I wrote more... :) ive wanted to do a series of scenes from Gideon's life for a while now- moments in time we didn't see in the show. mostly past, maybe some present or future, depending. wanted to explore his life a little more, and the headcanons ive got surrounding it. drabbles is the best way to solve this because i cant write one long cohesive plot very well haha

ive got a handful of ideas in mind but this is the first one that i finished to any degree. just a little scene from his childhood. gideon makes his first sale, and learns something about himself.

‘What are you up to, sweetie?’

‘Shh- it’s a secret.’

Gideon hushed his mother as he ran over to the back door and shoved his face up against it, peering out through the frosted glass window into the car lot. His mother, Florence, turned her attention away from the oven for a moment to squint at him. He was wearing his favorite dress shirt, the dark blue one covered in golden stars- shorts and sandals for the weather, and his long hair was pulled back into a white braid. The sun caught on his hair through the window, and she could have sworn she saw it sparkle. What a strange little boy they had, she thought.

---

She remembers how tiny he was when she first held him, and how odd his shock of white hair had been. Odder still when she first saw the icy blue eyes he had- not like hers or Bud’s, not at all. Neither of them had even heard of what the doctors diagnosed him with before then. Some sort of ‘congenital condition’, for whatever that meant. All that fancy medical talk was a bit out of her area of expertise. All that mattered to her was that their little boy was alive- and now, at least on his way to better health.

Their little Gideon had been much more adventurous these days. Ever since the doctors had given him the OK during his last hospital visit, he’d seemingly been itching to get outside. He hummed loudly, like he was deep in thought.

Florence smiled. She reached over to the fridge.

‘Well, if you aren’t too busy with your secrets, could you do me a favor?’

‘Hm?’ He whipped his head over to look at his mother, who was holding a little tupperware container.

‘How about you go across the lot and take this to your dad for me?’

The wheels turned for a moment, and Gideon perked up instantly.

‘Y’mean it? On my own?’

‘Of course, hon. As long as you’re careful-’

He nodded, a smile creasing his face. Oh- she couldn’t help it, every time he smiled, she smiled too. Surely every mother thinks their child is the cutest kid on the planet, but well… she KNEW hers was. And she knew that they’d been very protective of him these past few months, what with the hospital scare and all. As much as she fretted about his health- she made a mental note to deep clean his room again this weekend- she couldn’t squash that spirit behind his eyes. It couldn’t hurt to let him out on his own for a little bit.

He took the container from her hands and tucked it under one of his arms, nodding solemnly.

‘Ah’ll handle it, ma’am!’ He stood up straight and gave a little salute, his face faux-stern, and she couldn’t help but laugh. He’d been watching too much TV lately, bless him.

She waved him off as he skittered out of the door, turning her attention back to the oven.

---

Gideon shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun. The worst of his sensitivity to it may have gone away with the treatments, but it still got awful bright out in summer. But he’d power through it. After all, he had a mission.

He took off at a run down the winding garden path, rushing through the gate onto the concrete car lot. The weather was hot, but there was that fresh summer breeze blowing in his face that made him glad to be out of his room. He liked it in there plenty- he had books and instruments and more toys than he knew what to do with- but being cooped up in bed for so long had him yearning for the outdoors. He squinted, spying the towering figure of his father through the light glinting off the windows of his work building.

Giggling, he sprinted across the lot as fast as his legs could carry him into the shop.

‘Dad!’ He burst through the door, startling his father. Bud Gleeful whipped around from where he was sat across a little plastic table with a skinny spectacled gentleman, poring over a contract. He wore a battered looking old suit but held himself with an oddly aristocratic air. He seemed out of place on a used car lot.

‘Woah there, sunshine-’ Bud started, his sentence cut off with an oof- as Gideon jumped onto his lap. ‘Heavens, boy! What’s gotten into you?’

Gideon looked up at him- and then across the table to his latest customer. He had put the contract down and was looking down at the two of them, a smile creasing his cheeks. Bud raised a hand, a little embarrassed. ‘Oh my, I’m mighty sorry for the interruption, sir-’

‘Oh, no. It’s quite alright.’ He laughed- he had that fancy city-folk accent, Gideon noticed. He tilted his head to the side to get a better look at him. ‘Now who is this fine little fellow?’

‘Oh, well this is-’

‘Gideon!’ He piped up, folding his hands across his lap with a smile. ‘Gideon Charles Gleeful!’

‘Haha- yep. That’s my lil’ Gideon.’ Bud finished for him, resting one big hand on his son's shoulder. ‘This is my son. Little fella ain’t been too well recently, but he’s lookin’ fit as a fiddle now. Acting it, too! Well now, why’d you rush over here in such a hurry, boy? Does your mother know you’re-’

‘Oh, yeah! I brought ya’ this from mom.’ He held out the container to Bud, who picked it up- turned it over, then hummed in understanding.

‘Hah, oh yeah. I s’pose I did almost forget about lunch, all caught up in negotiatin’.’ He mused. ‘Thank you kindly, sweetheart.’ He leant down to kiss his forehead, which Gideon responded to by playfully swatting him away.

The moment was interrupted then by the man across the table clearing his throat. Gideon and Bud both turned their attention back to him.

‘Mr. Gleeful, I have to be honest- I wasn’t sure if this was the right car for me, a few minutes ago. Forgive me for my bluntness, but I was worried this place might not be… on the up-and-up, if you catch my drift.’ Gideon felt his fathers hand slip off his shoulder, a subtle change in his demeanor.

‘But… well, seeing you here- you seem like a real family man, Mr. Gleeful. Trustworthy. I’m sorry for doubting you.’ He chuckled. ‘I suppose I thought this contract might be too good to be true for a moment there.’

‘Nah, dad’s the best at this stuff!’ Gideon piped up- he felt Bud tense up for a second, about to hush him, but he carried on. ‘I’m gonna learn to sell cars just as good as his, someday! So you can tell yer kids to come buy from me!’

Bud held his breath a moment, but then the customer burst out laughing.

‘Oh- goodness, how sweet. You know what, Gideon? I’ll have to remember that.’

‘That’ll be Mr. Gleeful to you!’

Bud picked him up then, lifting himself out of his chair and carrying his son high up to perch on his shoulder. ‘Okay, that’s enough teasing, boy-’

‘Haha! No, no, he’s got it right.’ The skinny man stood too, pushing his glasses up his nose. ‘You know what? You’ve got yourself a sale, Mr. Gleeful.’

He held his hand out- up, above Bud’s, to Gideon. He grasped it firmly, grinning ear to ear and shook his hand. The gentleman nodded his head, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp 20 dollar bill.

‘Forgive me for being forward- but may I give the young man a commission?’

Bud startled, glancing at it- then back to Gideon- then back to the money. ‘Oh, my- that’s awful kind of you sir, it certainly is! Of course you can.’

Gideon’s eyes lit up. He eagerly took the twenty, held it up to the light- then slipped it into his pocket. He squirmed- a sign for Bud to pick him up and let him down on the floor again- and stood up straight with his arms folded.

‘Thanks, sir!’ He chirped, and Bud leant down to pat the top of his head.

‘Now Gideon, do you think you could let the grown-ups handle the borin’ part of all this paperwork?’ He crouched to smile at his son.

‘Sure thing.’

‘Alright, sweetpea. Don’t spend your money all in one place, y’hear?’

‘Okay, dad!’

His mission complete, Gideon padded over to the door- leant over his shoulder to wave at the man his father was now pushing a pen into the hand of- and left the room.

Stopping on the sun-soaked car lot, he reached into his pocket and felt the dollar again. Thought about the look on that man's face when he gave him the money, for nothing but a few words and a smile. His dad had a pretty easy job, he figured. But he didn’t really understand the whole sales thing- not yet, at least.

---

Gideon would spend the rest of the day playing in the garden- until he got too hot and tired, and retreated back to his shaded room for a nap. He wouldn’t think too much about what happened that day.

But that night, his father would take them out to the diner and boast loudly about how his son- barely in his fifth year!- had made his first ever sale. He’d let him order dessert- seconds, too. And he’d ask Gideon to stop by the lot more often, especially if he wants to learn to be a salesman someday. He was one talented boy, his parents told him. Showered him with that notion, really. He was destined to be a big shot one day with a personality as glowing as his.

'You have a face folks would never say no to!' His father told him. He didn't mean much when he said it- more of a joke than anything. But something about it settled with Gideon, still learning about the world. Nobody would say no to him, huh...?

He figured that sounded pretty nice.

#gravity falls #gideon gleeful #fanfiction #i was going to structure these drabbles as one of those 5+1 things but uh. i couldnt come up w a cohesive throughline #and also idk if ill write all the ones I have planned. so its better for me to just post em whenever I finish one haha #PLEASE ENJOY... this isnt much rly just. a little scene. gideon is a precocious kid people think hes cute #hes sheltered a bit and spoiled. but generally a Real Sweetheart at this age. hes only beginning to learn about the concept of deception #things will undoubtedly Get Worse since this is before he goes to school in my timeline haha #honestly most of this was me wanting to write a lil about gideons parents #i dont think either of them Intended anything bad in their raising of their son. they just wanted their little angel to be happy #but they do end up enabling some things they reeeeeally shouldnt as time goes on #anyway hes gonna spend that twenty on soooo much candy

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howdygravytrain · 3 days

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FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt #19: Taken

i'm not a writer by any means, but i absolutely had to take part in the ffxiv write 2024 challenge. this drabble is super rough and i may come back and expand on it later, but i'm just happy that i managed to write anything at all :^3

here's the link to the fic on ao3 if you wanna check it out there, otherwise continue below the break! many apologies for spelling/grammar/whatever errors, i don't know how to manage time efficiently totally not obvious by sharing something a day later UwU

PROMPT: TAKEN

Premise: He knew Gravy would dance with others at the ball, but Aymeric can't help but feel taken with jealousy as he watched person after person steal a dance with his Warrior.

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

“You can just go up and dance with her, you know,” a voice said, having successfully interrupted Aymeric’s state of brooding and startling the poor elezen. Quickly composing himself, the Lord Commander turned to the perpetrator to apologize for appearing so glum, but his shoulders sagged in relief when he saw it was only Stephanivien. “I wasn’t joking, go on and ask the girl to dance before you glare everyone to death,” the eldest Haillenarte added, making Aymeric wince.

“Is it really that noticeable?” Aymeric stated more than asked, already knowing the answer.

“My friend, I had to convince Artoirel that you weren’t going to pull out your sword and skewer the next poor sod who asked Gravy’s hand for a dance!” Stephanivien exasperated dramatically with a wave of his hand. “I personally think it’d be hilarious if you did; it’d certainly bring more excitement to this absolute waste of time.” The machinist ran a hand through his blond hair and huffed in annoyance, his pale blue eyes scanning the room. “Ugh, this is the last time I let Art coerce me into attending one of these. He knows I have much to work on at the shop, I don’t have time to be stuck with these pricks and their hors d’oeuvres! And I have to wear this ridiculous garb that father insisted– ”

Aymeric tuned out Stephanivien’s ranting at that point and graciously accepted a glass of wine from a servant. He didn’t bother with a sip and threw his head back and downed the entire drink in one go, promptly returning the glass to the stunned server. His eyes trailed back towards the center of the dance floor and landed on the lone lalafell of the entire room…and the bastard she was dancing with. He couldn’t quite place who the man was, but Aymeric immediately disliked him for how Gravy obviously struggled to keep up with the elezen’s much longer legs.

The Lord Speaker frowned as he watched the Warrior try to tell her dance partner something, presumably to shorten his steps. He replied with yanking her harshly by the arm and pulled her up to his chest with a wicked grin, making the dancers around them gasp. Rage filled Aymeric as he marched his way to the pair, ready to beat the ever living shit out the fiend, but stopped a few steps short when Gravy, in all her gracefulness, slapped the man’s face with a resounding SMACK.

All noise immediately ceased in the ballroom as the man cried out in pain and dropped Gravy to clutch his cheek. She got up and nonchalantly dusted herself off as her dance partner’s companions came rushing to his aid. With one hand on her hip and the other pointed to wailing elezen, Gravy loudly said,

“That ain’t NO way to treat a person, ya pompous fuck! You oughta be ashamed of yerself!”

Aymeric stood there in disbelief as the ballroom erupted in laughter as the offender was dragged out before he let out a small chuckle himself.

#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxivwrite2024 #drabble #wolmeric #gravy tries writing: difficulty extreme #aymeric de borel #stephanivien de haillenarte #warrior of light #ffxiv wol #i've been trying to write a fic about gravy for several months now #and maybe have one solid chapter finished #that only one other person has read and it's cause they beta'd for me LMAO #i have terrible anxiety about sharing my writing cause there's so many amazing writers out there that i feel grossly inferior to #so i just haven't shared anything or really kept writing #but i'm using this challenge to hopefully help me get over some of that anxiety and just WRITE something #even though i'm hella late to the challenge i'm over the moon that i was able to make something

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sinofwriting · 1 year

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What F1 Fic Should I Write Next?

I've got a lot of ideas (this is only some and my brain will inevitably come up with ten more by the time this poll is done, but all well) and wanted to put it up for a vote for what I put a lot of my focus on next!

Options!

jealously, jealously (Max Verstappen): After months of pining Max and her are finally going out. But when she has a panic attack, the only person she wants is Daniel, who introduced them. (Angst with a happy ending, also Max is a bit dumb for reasons I don't want to spoil)

Whatever You Need (Daniel Ricciardo): Daniel and her have been best friends for longer than they can remember. And as a travel blogger, she has the luxury of getting to go with him everywhere. While people think they are together, they aren't. Until an unsatisfactory one night stand that goes wrong. (Smallest bit of angst, mainly just fluff and best friends to lovers)

lover (Oscar Piastri): During the Australian GP, press and fans find out that Oscar isn't single but married. More importantly, the grid also learns this. (Posted on August 26th, 2023)

Aren't Girls The Worse (Max Verstappen): When Max and her welcome their second child and daughter, it doesn't take long for Jos to go to the press with his disappointment. (Angst with a happy ending, Jos as a warning of his own)

I will end up writing all of these, but the poll is just to see what I should write and post first!

#i said that my brainrot for max was bad and i meant it #already have another fic for him finished and ready to post #shall be my next post most likely or a drabble of some sort to break up all the max love #edited tags as of August 25th 2023 #removed the x reader and imagine tags since the poll is over #edit as of sept 5th: poll has been removed since it is no longer active

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suashii · 8 days

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guys i wrote so much today pls be proud of me

#☁︎ manon's mind #finished a drabble request for my event #i think that ended up around 800 words?#and then i was still in a writing mood #so i bit the bullet and started something smutty for suo 👀#it’s in my notes app so i actually don’t have a word count #but it feels like a lot! by my standards #which are not high lmao #but i’m just happy to have started some new things :3

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valeriianz · 1 year

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Let Me Down Easy | Dream x Hob | 21k | Mature | Complete

chapter 3 summary: hob and dream have a serious talk... and figure out how to best go forward

Hob guesses his gaze has gone wistful. It’s unfortunate how his face is an open book, always betraying how he really feels. It’s the only explanation for Morpheus reaching out suddenly and settling a hand on Hob’s knee.

It’s probably meant to be comforting, or grounding, but it feels like a branding iron and Hob immediately jumps back, scooting to put more space between them. His pulse is racing again and Hob curses himself.

“Don’t.”

Morpheus takes a slow breath, leaning forward slightly. “I can’t stand seeing you and not touching you.”

Hob hates how his chest constricts at Morpheus’ words. At the very mention of touching. At his forwardness.

How Hob feels the same damn way.

“Please don’t say that.”

“But it’s true.” Morpheus sets his own glass down and Hob doesn’t miss how he uses the movement to inch just a bit closer to him. “You want me to be honest? Transparent? Well this is it. I’ve missed you and it’s killing me.”

Ao3

#dreamling #hob x dream #fic: let me down easy #photographer/model au #finally finished babeeyyyy!#im feeling a lil insecure #a lil unsure #but ya know what i am happy to be done with this au #its been fun! might return here on tumblr to post some lil drabbles...#we'll see #my writing

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hoshiina · 7 months

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pairing: kuroda yukinari x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he was always just watching from afar

warnings: none :)

He was always watching from afar. He would watch the way you would always say you were tired, but you'd be paying full attention every class. He noticed how you would genuinely be interested in class when you enjoyed the subject, but when you didn’t you’d subconsciously frown at the work given.

When he was practicing afterschool, sometimes he’d see you walk out of school a little too late and he’d realize you were studying in the library again. He would usually just watch, but today he just really wanted to talk to you. Maybe he was feeling particularly lonely that day after you had a seating change and you sat even further away from him than before. Whatever it was, he was feeling rather impulsive today.

“Sorry, I’m going to go ride outside for a bit,” he told his teammates and rolled his road racer outside. Little did he know, most members of the team knew about his little crush, especially the third years. It was a little too obvious to not notice, because every time you were in his line of vision, he was looking at you. They had hardly ever seen the two of you talk, but all they could hope for was all the best for their vice-captain— he was always looking at you with the sweetest gaze ever.

And for the first time ever, he was stepping forward

“Okay, take your time,” Izumida said.

“Hm? Oh, thanks,” Kuroda said, unaware of what Izumida had meant.

Oh, would he just end up just walking past you again? He wanted to talk to you, but what would he say? Immediately, he knew he would probably end up just watching you from afar, unable to say anything. He sighed at the thought of that.

But to his surprise, you turned to look at him. Okay, now what does he do? What does he say?

“Oh, Kuroda!” you said, taking your earbuds out. Gosh, he loved that about you. You were probably only going to talk for a bit, there was no reason for you to put them away. Yet, at the same time, he was somewhat surprised you knew his name— you were in the same class, of course you did. Maybe he was surprised to hear you say it, rather. “Are you off to practice now?”

“Oh, yes. I’m in the road racing club... which is probably obvious now,” he said, frantically. Gosh, he was making a fool of himself, you didn’t even ask! He was just so flustered, the words weren’t coming out right.

“Of course, I know!” you said. “How would I not know Mr. Vice-Captain of our school’s pride and joy road race team! Do you have a race soon?”

“I do. Quite soon actually... on Saturday,” he said, mind blank. He was just going to answer your questions now he wasn’t capable of much more, he realized.

“Saturday! I really shouldn’t hold you up then,” you said and he scolded himself for saying that. He would’ve rather talked to you for a little longer and practiced all through the night if he had to. “Where and when is it?”

“Just up the Hakone mountain,” he said, surprised. It’s one thing to ask where, but to ask when? He was going to start having some false hope. “In the morning, at around 9.”

“Would it be weird if I show up?” you asked, a little less energetic than before, almost as though you were afraid he’d tell you not to come.

“No, not at all,” he said, a little too quickly. “...Please do.”

Immediately, your face glowed up the way he loved to see it. He could not believe you were talking to him right now.

“Then, I will definitely be there,” you said. “I’ll let you go for real now, I want to see you win that race.”

“Oh, crap, I forgot my water I’ll need to go back to get it. I’ll see you,” he said. “Thank you.”

“See you!” you said and walked off, putting your earbuds back in.

He didn’t lie, he only had one bottle when he usually carried two, but usually he’d just go on and buy something at a vending machine. However, he knew his ears were red and the last thing he wanted was for you to see. He walked back in and no one questioned how quickly he was back, (because they were all watching) which he found weird, but that was the least of his worries.

“How did it go?” Izumida asked.

“Oh, I haven’t gone yet,” Kuroda said. “I realized I forgot a water bottle.”

“No, not that,” Izumida said, finally tired of playing dumb.

“What?” he asked, then looked around and saw that quite a few more people were looking at him, eagerly waiting for him to go on. “Were you all watching??” He felt even more embarrassed than before if that was possible.

“(L/n)’s coming... on Saturday,” he said quietly, covering his face with his hand, hoping they wouldn’t see how red it was.

“Oh, you really have to win now~” Manami said, and that made Kuroda smile.

“Yeah, I really do.”

#kuroda yukinari x reader #kuroda yukinari #yowamushi pedal x reader #yowamushi pedal #yowapeda imagines #yowapeda x reader #GOSH I HATE WRITING LN OR YN #IT FEELS SO SILLY TO ME #but also i try to use no prns if possible #he is so lovely to me its insane i think he is just so serious and hard on himself like all he does is practice i love him #YOU CAN HAVE SOME FUN ITS OKAY #i really like writing like blurbs but whenever i start to write a blurb it ends up as a drabble #BUT I HAVE SO MUCH FUN WRITING FOR HIM maybe i will continue this in another part #if literally anyone finds this let alone likes this i will be so surprised again but TY FOR READING REGARDLESS !!!!#oops forgot to mention NOT PROOFREAD I FINISHED WRITING AND I HIT POST #i mean u can probably tell from the errors but SORRY #sorry i am currently copy pasting everything from my other blog including the tags so please don't mind my old rambles

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sso-montana · 2 months

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Seven times Montana unconsciously realizes what home feels like (and one time Justin does)

Word count: 2k+, Rating: General

The first night in her grandma's house she tosses and turns, unable to find a comfortable spot on the mattress in her mom's old room. It feels like an eternity has passed when she finally gives up and instead turns to the window looking over the pasture not too far away. She can see the horses, a few Jorvik Warmbloods, some English Thoroughbreds and a Shire dozing under the silver moonlight. The more she stares out her window the stronger the longing in her chest seems to grow. It's almost if the horses are calling out to her. Wouldn't that be silly?

Within the matter of seconds she slipped into a pair of old sneakers and out the door, still in her pajamas and her headphones and phone in hand as she heads straight for the pasture. The horses would make much better company than the spiders in the corner of her mom's old room, that Montana was sure of. Nothing more to it than that.

Leaning over the wooden fence the Shire she had seen earlier lifts his head from where he's grazing before walking towards her. Luckily it was a full moon that night, otherwise it would've been even harder to see the dark coat against the night sky. As she carefully reached out a hand the Shire curiously sniffs at her palm, warm air grazing her skin as he exhaled. She can't help but smile as the horse let out an unsatisfied snort when she pulled back her hand just to change his mind and perk his ears up once she started climbing on top of the fence.

As soon as she is sitting on top of the wooden railing the Shire gently nudged his head against her chest, making her smile even more as she started to pet his nose again.

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

Two months after arriving back on Jorvik she is sitting dumbfounded on the cobblestone path between silvergladd and moorland. There had been these weird, shadowy figures that had popped up out of nowhere- ever changing shapes of dark matter and glowing red eyes that had whispered her worst fears seemingly straight into her head.

And there had been a blinding pink light coming straight from the palm of her hands as she tried to block them from coming at her. After that the creatures had vanished just like that, as if they had never been there in the first place. While she was staring at her palms in confusion Onyx trotted back over to her, his nose gently nudging her head before nibbling at her purple locks. He looks almost worried once she turns her head around to scold him, making her pause with her mouth wide open to tell him to stop eating her hair goddamnit-

They stare at each other for a couple seconds before Onyx lets go of her hair and exhales softly, big brown-green eyes looking at her with even more concern, almost as if to ask “are you okay?”. With an exasperated sigh Montana leans the side of her head against his nose, raising one arm to pet the side of his neck as she again stares at the spot where those creatures just had been.

The thought of them doesn't frighten her nearly as much as it had without Onyx by her side.

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Three hours after running away leaving the Dark Core HC Montana can still feel the stinging pain in her chest. Like a thousand fine needles being stuck into her heart and lungs. Her knuckles turn almost white as her grip on the bathroom sink tightens while another wave of pain ripples through her. Not only had she failed to convince Justin to come back home, she also managed to break her magic. How fucking pathetic was that? Outside she can hear bits and pieces if the conversation taking place; her Grandma and Yuka giving Thomas the “magic exists” talk while at the same time trying to give the least heart attack inducing version of what had happened with her and where Justin was.

Looking up from the white marble sink Montana doesn't recognize the hot pink eyes staring back at her in the bathroom mirror. The glowing birthmark on her chest seems to almost pulse with her heartbeat, almost in sync with the headache she had developed on the way back home.

By the time she comes out of the bathroom her and Thomas are the only ones left in the house. Going into the kitchen there is a bag of medicine, undoubtedly left by her grandma, on the dinner table next to two cups of hot cocoa. Thomas is siting at the table, a worried expression on his face as he looks at her and-

She can't look at him. Not after failing to bring Justin back. Not after being deathly afraid that he's going to kick her out and-

Gentle hands placed on her shoulders, her name being called out in a soft, low voice. She shakes her head from side to side, eyes firmly fixated on the ground.

“It's not your fault.” Makes her eyes burn. “I'm not not mad at you.” Lifts a bit of the weight off her shoulders that had threatened to crush her.

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It's four minutes after they're back at Moorland Stables that Thomas pulls Justin into a hug. The soft smile on Montanas lips is just the tiniest bit tinted with sadness. She's happy for them, really, but the pang in her chest as she realizes that she'll never have this again still hurts. As Justin wraps his arms around his dad she can't take it anymore and decides to look at the ground instead, arms crossed and praying that they can't see how her smile turns just a tad bit bitter.

Suddenly there's an arm around her shoulders gently pulling her forward. Before she can even comprehend what's going on she's pressed against Thomas' side, Justin against the other, as he calls them “my children” and talks about how “you're going to be the cause of all my gray hairs”. The hug is warm and gentle. Like the hugs her mom had given her as a kid. Exactly how she had always imagined a hug from a dad would feel like. Loving. Caring.

It's almost enough to make her cry, almost. She tells herself she doesn't, even as her eyes start to sting and she hides her face in Thomas' jacket. Even when Justin wraps his arm around her back and she uncrosses her arms to do the same, her hand gripping the back of his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping her from crumbling to the ground.

And if there are a few tears she didn't manage to hold in neither Justin nor his dad commented on them.

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By the end of the party there are only five people left in the living room, excluding Montana herself. Jasper was sitting in the armchair next to the couch, where she had been sandwiched between Justin and her grandma, while Yuka was sitting cross legged on the floor in front of her. Thomas was putting a CD into the DVDplayer, something about her “final birthday present” that he and Justin had been so secretive about.

To say she was surprised to see a video of her toddler self play would've been the understatement of the past decade. What surprised her even more was the videos that followed, clips from past birthdays and her playing in her grandma's garden as a kid. She and Justin both smiling to show their missing teeth and her standing on a stool to help her grandma bake. Clips from the place she and her moms had lived at, of forests in Germany and bustling cities in Japan. Montanas freshly dyed hair and how happy she had looked after seeing herself in the mirror for the first time. Her moms and her at karaoke and so, so much more.

She hadn't looked at any videos of them since the accident. To hear their voices and see their faces-

Despite her burning eyes she keeps looking at the screen in front of her. She can feel Justin's arm around her shoulders, her grandma taking her hand and squeezing gently while Yuka pats her leg from their spot on the floor.

Because it doesn't stop with clips of her and her moms. There are clips of her complaining as she's grooming Onyx, of her, Justin, Maya and messing around in the hayloft and throwing hay at Alex who was holding the camera. Videos of Josh teaching her how to line dance and his terrible attempts at hip-hop. Lisa and her just sitting around while Alex was making jokes about the “emo invasion” on Jorvik. The time Loretta had convinced her to wear one of the bobcat jackets. Clips of Trail Rides and bonfires and festivals. Her and Onyx cuddling on the fields over at South Hoof.

By the time the video ends Montana is trying, and failing, to wipe away the stream of tears flowing down her face. The watery “I'm happy. Really, really happy.” Seems to kill any “are you okay.” questions that were just about to be spoken out loud.

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Six days. Montana had been stuck in bed for six days when she finally decides enough is enough. Her body should've had more than enough rest by now. Kicking her legs over the edge of her bed and firmly planting her feet on the ground she's confident in her abilities to get to the stables by herself.

By the time her legs are shaking uncontrollably she's still two steps away from the first floor. It was so, so frustrating to not be able to do anything. Hell, she couldn't even walk down one flight of stairs without her legs trembling like the ones of a newborn foal. After the last two steps are behind her and her feet touch the wooden floor her legs ultimately give out. Leaning against the wall, exhausted and angry- no furious- she wants nothing more than to cry and scream and curse out whatever gods would listen. It takes all the self control she has to not give in to her anger and start punching the wall or hitting her head against it out of frustration. Why, why did she have to be this broken?

She just wanted to see Onyx.

It's a matter of second before a door down the hallway opens and Thomas walks out, his expression confused as he searches for the sound of the commotion her fall must've made. As soon as he spots Montana sitting on the ground his confusion turns into concern, calling out her name as he swiftly walks over to where she was sitting. Once she explains what happened Thomas shakes his head, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he offers to piggyback her to the living room. To let her rest and later ask Justin to go with her to the stables.

She buries her head in his shoulder as they walk down to the first floor, arms tightening around his neck as she lets out the softest “Thanks, dad.”

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It's seven am when Montana cracks her eyes open, groggy and grumpy as she turns away from the clock on her nightstand to hide her face in the warm chest next to her. A low hum that she can feel more than she can hear comes from Justin before a hand reaches up and carefully starts detangling her hair, mindful of all the curls and knots that had formed through the night. Their legs move and rub against each other as the both of them shift into a more comfortable positions for laying on their side. Montana pulls the blanket back up to her shoulders (which meant it was barley able to reach Justin's middle.

They lay like this for a few more minutes, warm skin pressed against each other before Justin ultimately rolls over onto his chest. But not before wrapping his arm around Montanas waist to pull her with him so that she's laying atop of him. With a sigh and bleary eyes she lifts her head from his chest to look up at him. His hair is a mess of dark brown curls and the white streak in his bangs. The look in his eyes and idiotic smile can't be classified as anything else but love and, for once, the though doesn't terrify her. Quite the opposite, she can't help but match that stupid smile of his as he leans forward and presses his lips against her forehead. His hands move from her waist to the mattress, pushing himself up and giving him a more comfortable angle to scatter kisses all over her face. Nose and cheek, cheekbones and chin, under her eyes and on the corners of her mouth. Everywhere he presses his lips against her skin there's a tingling feeling that's certainly not coming from his stubble. Really, it's almost comical how hard he tries to not scratch her face that Montana can't tell if it's that or the kisses themselves that make her giggle.

After finally having enough of his endless teasing she takes his face in her hand, presses their lips together.

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It takes one offhanded comment to the mom of one of the summer camp girls for the news to spread like wildfire. The second Alex had heard the words “my wife” leave Justin's lips she had almost jumped him. To say him and Montana had been bombarded with texts and phone calls would've been an understatement.

Neither of them had wanted a big party or wedding in the first place. Not to mention how spontaneous the whole thing had been. Heck, they hadn't started to wear wedding rings until three weeks after the documents had been signed (Montana insisted she make them herself, what good was being a blacksmith if she couldn't even make her own wedding ring?). Not having had a big wedding ceremony hadn't been a problem for either of them, rather they had welcomed it. It was something they had done for themselves and themselves only.

Still, dancing and laughing together under the glow of the lanterns they had hung up in Mrs. Holdsworth garden, the laughing and chattering of their friends and family around them wasn't half that bad. Not to mention how ethereal Montana (his wife. His wife. He still had a hard time wrapping his head around that fact) looked in the black and magenta dress she wore.

All they had gone through, everything that had happened, having Montana smile at him, a smile that he could only compare to the one she had had when they were kids, eyes filled with love and pure, genuine happiness, made it all worth it. Her laugh as he picks her up and spins her around is heavenly.

The smiles don't leave their lips even after Justin sets her back down again and she pulls him into the millionth kiss that night.

#sso #ssoblr #sso oc #star stable online #star stable tumblr #my writing #Montana Opalheart #Justin Moorland #dewblossom #we'll ignore how I made her cry three times here those were #no they weren't all happy tears but shut up #I know I don't write much but mainly because I can't finish shit #one shots like these or those 5 + 1 or drabbles are much easier for me to get done #maybe I should do some more...#if you have Drabble wishes or ideas feel free to send them I guess!#any and all ideas are welcome #if hey get finished...#I have a 10k dewblossom one shot that's not even finished so yeah

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