#Love O'Clock

[rcmclachlan]

fanclub dues (bucktommy, tommy & maddie friendship)

Buck's just pulling into the parking lot when the realization that he left his recertification paperwork on Tommy's kitchen counter hits him like another lightning strike, and he drops his head to the steering wheel with a whine. His cert expires today and absolutely has to be postmarked by noon or else Bobby's going to decapitate him, or worse: be really disappointed in him.

His first instinct is to call Tommy, because Tommy's starting a lovely stretch of 72 hours off, and if Buck called him he would absolutely drive the packet over.

Except Tommy's spent the last week reminding Buck to mail the stupid thing before the postmark deadline. If he calls and asks, Tommy won't say I told you so, but he will pause for a second like he's thinking about it before he tells Buck it's no problem. Which is in the exact same pantheon as Bobby's disappointment.

So, he does the next best thing.

"Actually, that works out, because I'm going to be in that area anyway," Maddie says. He can hear the rush of wind and traffic over the line. She must already be driving. "You know how we got on the waitlist for that kindergarten I was telling you about? Looks like a spot is going to open up next year and they asked me to come in for a tour."

Buck frowns. "You're already talking about kindergarten?"

"Jee's four, Buck," Maddie says long-sufferingly. "Kindergarten starts next year."

"That's insane, and also illegal. Tell that girl to stop growing or else she's getting arrested. I know a cop who would absolutely do it, no questions asked."

Maddie laughs, which makes him grin at his reflection in the rearview like an idiot. It always feels like he's won something when he manages to make her at least crack a smile, even when they were kids.

He thanks her profusely, texts her Tommy's address, and then rides that wave of joy right into the station, which continues to carry him through the first couple of hours of his shift.

Around 10:00, his phone chimes with a message. Just pulled up! Front of the house looks great! :-) :-) :-)

Buck smiles down at his phone. He helped plant the flower beds last weekend, and even though he's still finding bits of mulch in weird places because Tommy had pressed him back into the dirt and kissed him filthy in broad daylight in full view of his street, until their smiles got in the way, he can't argue with the end result. They do look good.

This little handoff probably will only take five minutes. Tommy still feels a little awkward around Maddie for reasons Buck cannot fathom for the life of him. Maddie is the kindest, coolest person on the planet, and she's so happy that Buck is happy and Buck is happy because of Tommy, so there shouldn't be any sort of weird vibe. But this is the first time Tommy's ever been in a relationship that made it to the stage where he gets to meet the family and he's so terrified of leaving a bad impression that it's translated into him acting like a robot whenever she's around.

It's maybe a little mean of him to send Maddie to Tommy's literal doorstep. He can just picture the deer-in-headlights look on Tommy's face when he opens the door, but Buck figures exposure therapy can only help. The more Tommy sees Maddie, the more he'll hopefully relax. Small moves.

Maddie will probably send a text in another few minutes about her ETA, but then the bells go off and Buck doesn't give it another thought until a few hours later when they're climbing into the truck to head back to the station.

Unearthing his phone, Buck is expecting a Looks like you're out on a call. I left your stuff on Bobby's desk. See you later!

He's not expecting a video.

Blinking, he checks the timestamp of the message—not twenty minutes ago—and feels the first nibbles of worry in his gut.

What if something happened at the station? What if Gerrard made an unexpected appearance, hoping to, like, challenge Bobby to fisticuffs to get his job back but found Maddie there instead? What if he says something to her, or tries to burn the building down while she's still inside? Maybe she took a video as proof before the ceiling caved in—

He nearly drops the phone trying to press play, and Chim slides in next to him just in time to see Maddie fill his screen.

But instead of evidence of their bitter ex-captain committing arson, it's a selfie video of her in a pair of sunglasses and a cap dancing and singing along to a song Buck doesn't recognize. He does recognize the kitchen behind her, though, because he'd eaten breakfast in it just this morning. There are two bottles of wine on the counter, one empty.

And after a moment, Buck realizes the sunglasses are Tommy's aviators and the pilot cap is the same one Buck accidentally stumbled upon in one of the upstairs closets and made Tommy wear a few nights ago.

But before he can process any of that, Tommy cha-chas his way into the background holding a plate of what looks like sandwiches. He's singing along too. Maddie turns around to look and starts laughing hysterically, the entire screen shaking like they're in the middle of a 9.1 earthquake, when Tommy starts hip thrusting.

Buck's jaw drops. "He said those dorky-ass dance moves were for my eyes only!"

"Wow, I never realized there was a patron saint of FOMO, but here I am sitting next to him. What an honor," Chim says with a laugh, but something in the video must click because his grin is suddenly swallowed by sheer outrage. "Wait, are they having a George Michael dance party without me? Maddie knows how much I love George!"

"What's your definition of dirty, baby, what do you consider pornography!" Maddie and Tommy shout gleefully at the camera.

Chim gasps. "Oh, divorce!"

"What was that about FOMO, Chim?" Hen asks sweetly, but she's grinning so wide at the video—even from her upside down vantage point—that the dig doesn't stick the landing.

Buck looks over at Eddie, who is watching the video serenely, like he's not shocked to see his cool friend full-on shimmying his chest while shoving a grilled cheese into his face.

"Are you not surprised by this at all?" Buck demands.

Eddie shrugs. "If you ever came to karaoke like we keep asking you to, you wouldn't be either. I don't know what you want me to say, Buck. Your man's a dweeb."

He's so annoyed that this is something Eddie's seen so many times before that it doesn't even warrant a reaction that Buck almost forgets to be upset about Maddie and the aforementioned dweeb day drinking and bonding without him. He's oh so glad to see Tommy got over his fear of impressing Maddie enough that he thinks he's allowed to do the fucking running man while in the same room with her.

"C-c-c-c-c-come on!" Tommy howls. Off screen, Maddie cackles and whoops like she's at a rodeo show.

Buck turns to Chimney and says grimly, "After this? You totally get me in the divorce."

Chim makes a face. "Can I contest that?"

"No," Buck says, swiping out of the video before he throws his phone into the street. Almost immediately it chimes with a new text. In a new group chat.

Faxed ur stuff bc ur bf still has a FAX MACHINE and CONNECTIONS at the dir!

Yes and arent uoy glad???1? EVan youre all set baby

BABY lmao gross Going to Jees school now tell u how it goes

When Bobby hauls himself into the front seat, he looks back at them and pauses. Buck doesn't know what his face is doing, but by the dubious expression on Bobby's face, it's nothing good.

"Everything... okay?"

Buck shrugs. "Other than my niece being destined for a career of slinging burgers at In n' Out because my drunk sister and boyfriend are about to get her blackballed from the Los Angeles public school system? We're copasetic, Cap."

'Copasetic,' Eddie mouths, then starts snickering. Buck kicks his foot.

"Hey." Chim smacks him in the chest. "Don't diss fast food workers, they're the backbone of our society. You're just mad you're not cheating Jee out of an education with said sister and boyfriend."

"Aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm well-actualized enough to simply rise above the betrayal," Chimney says easily.

Hen rolls her eyes. "He's not. Between the two of you, we're going to be hearing about this for the next four years."

"Sorry, Maddie and Tommy are doing what?" Bobby asks slowly.

The corners of Chim's mouth twitch downward. "Dancing to I Want Your Sex. Without me, might I add."

Buck's head turns so fast he hears something pop in his neck. "It's called what?"

"Oh god," Hen mutters. Eddie looks like he's ready to start dozing off.

Buck's gearing up for a really good rant when his phone goes off again, and when he opens the message, it's a selfie of Maddie and Tommy pressed together in someone's backseat—hopefully an Uber's—and grinning so hard it almost looks a little painful.

Jealousy starts to rear its head like a snake, but before it has a chance to strike he clocks the name of the group chat.

The Official Evan Buckley Fan Club.

Be safe out htere! We love you!

"I'm just saying," Chim gripes to a visibly unsympathetic Hen, "Maddie wasn't even a George Michael fan until I made her listen to Hard Day!"

Buck turns to Eddie and kicks his foot again. "Want to join The Evan Buckley Fan Club?"

"Dude, I've been treasurer for like seven years," Eddie says without opening his eyes. "And I cast the deciding vote when Tommy ran for president at the end of last year."

Once upon a time a there lived boy in Hershey, Pennsylvania who never dared to conceive the idea that multiple people might someday love him enough to start a fan club over it.

"You over it yet?" Eddie asks.

Something warm and sweet wells inside him and he ducks his head around a pleased laugh. "Yeah, for now."

He does make a mental note to have a serious talk with Tommy about the proprietary nature of those hip thrusts, though.

[the-uncanny-dag]

Based on a shitpost by @paramoregf

[suzukiblu]

Please, cuddling, and TimKon?

. . . I am sorry but also I am NOT sorry for what I have done with this reply, but hey, why don't we all enjoy this one being the only prompt fill from this meme that got a read-more cut??

“Please,” Kon tries, trying not to look–he doesn’t know, weird and needy and like an embarrassment, or whatever. It feels like such a stupid thing to ask for. He knows Tim’s not really a hugger or a touchy-feely guy or whatever and that he likes having his own space and basically always hops out of bed right after sex to go write down all the shit his post-nut clarity made him think of, and the idea of, like, just staying still and actually cuddling or whatever is probably basically literal torture to him, assuming it’s ever even occurred to him at all, just . . . 

Just he’d kind of like to sometimes, maybe? Like–not regularly or whatever, he’s not trying to drive Tim nuts or cut into either his worktime or downtime here, just . . .

Just he’d like to do it sometimes, that’s all. 

Tim’s not the tactile type. Tim isn’t even the eye contact type, unless he’s lying to somebody or at work or just faking it for Robin-mode or whatever. Kon gets that. He’s been, like–careful about that. Not trying to take up too much space or ask for too much attention or mind when Tim doesn’t even look up at him when he– 

He’s been careful about it. 

But he is . . . well. The tactile type. Like . . . kind of, anyway. 

Like–it’s kinda unavoidable, honestly. 

“Oh,” Tim says, blinking at him in just enough bemusement to make him feel even more self-conscious about bringing this shit up to begin with, and Kon tries to keep his expression casual and noncommittal and–and just normal about this. Because he is totally normal about this. He is so normal about this. He is.

He’s also normal about the fact that when he asked Tim if he could talk to him about something, Tim didn’t even put down his tablet. Didn’t even put it to sleep, or actually even look up from it until . . . 

Kon’s normal about that. About all of this. 

(and he definitely never feels kind of weird or a little bit abandoned because Tim can’t EVER just bring his stupid laptop back to bed or at least work on whatever he’s thinking about IN the bedroom at the untouched desk he's got set up in there or even just, like . . . stick around and hang out on the couch with him, or anything like that. he definitely totally ENTIRELY doesn’t ever just feel like a casual fuckbuddy or an easy hookup or a gala-night accessory or just the most immediately convenient option and not actually–not actually any kind of a–not actually something that– 

he doesn’t. 

definitely.)

“Uh,” Kon says, and backpedals awkwardly, because clearly this conversation is not going the way he’d wanted it to and Tim just looks so surprised by it all, like–like it never even occurred to him or something, that maybe . . . that maybe Kon would want anything like that, or like he literally just hasn’t noticed how hard Kon’s been trying to be normal about it, or . . . 

It doesn’t feel very good, the idea he’s been trying so hard to respect Tim’s space and preferences and comfort levels and Tim hasn’t even noticed that he was doing anything at all. 

Especially because Tim usually notices just about everything. 

Maybe Tim’s just never thinking about it. Maybe he gets out of bed so quick because he’s spent the whole time in it thinking about other shit and just putting up with–just– 

“Kon,” Tim says, his voice going a little tight, and Kon just tries not to wince. He didn’t mention any of the complicated stuff he’s been trying not to feel, he just asked if Tim could–if Tim would– 

He didn’t even mention any of the complicated stuff, so it’s, like–not a great sign that Tim’s looking at him like that right now, like he’s said something really serious or upsetting or . . . 

He really shouldn’t have said anything, yeah. 

“Sorry,” he tries stiffly, glancing away and wrapping his hand around his own wrist and digging his fingers into the inside of it. It’s–tactile. Just . . . something tactile. “I know you don’t–sorry. Uh. Just forget it.” 

“Fuck,” Tim mutters for some reason, and Kon feels like such an idiot for saying anything at all, and a worse one for apparently doing it in a way that’s got Tim making that face at him. That face is Robin’s “my utility belt is empty, comms are fried, and the mission just went to shit” face. 

He really fucked this up. It was fine. Everything was fine, and now he’s wrecked it and Tim’s about to say it’s not even that serious, it’s not like it’s even–not like they’re even–and that Kon’s clearly gotten the wrong idea and they should just–just– 

“How long have you felt this way?” Tim asks very, very carefully, like the question’s something fragile, and Kon thinks from literally the first fucking time you left me alone in bed all night so you could go recalibrate some stupid useless specialty sensor that wasn’t even part of your primary gear, like, a WEEK into us sleeping together and says, “I dunno. It’s not–I told you. Forget it. It’s not a big deal.” 

He’s being weird about this. He’s being an asshole about this, actually, because being prepared for literally every single possible contingency ever is the Bats’ whole thing and he got into this knowing Tim wasn’t the touchy-feely type or all that expressive and emotive about–about his feelings, or whatever, and–and it’s not like he even–not like he– 

(he just wants a fucking HUG he didn't have to FUCK him for every now and then, or for Tim to at least exist in the same space as him for longer than the time it takes for the next email from Oracle to come in or next alert from Batman to go off or next self-assigned project to finish processing or–

but that’s not something Tim does, and Kon knew that going in, so–so it’s his own stupid fault if he feels SMALL sometimes, when . . . when there’s always something else, always another problem to solve or place to be or thing to think about, always . . . always something more important than just . . . staying, just for a little bit, and just BEING with–with him. just him. not the team, or either of their families, or . . .)

He knew all this going in, Kon reminds himself. He knew it. If he were this bad at being with literally anyone else, he’d just–he’d just– 

But something about it being Tim means he just . . . can’t. 

Tim’s jaw tightens, and he finally sets down his stupid tablet. 

Only now, though, Kon thinks bitterly, and digs his fingers a little deeper into the inside of his wrist. 

“Kon,” Tim says again, says too carefully again. Like something’s fragile, again. “I–” 

“I said forget it, for fuck’s sake!” Kon snaps too hotly, and maybe hates himself for both doing it and for the stricken look that doing it puts on Tim’s face, and also maybe cheats a bit by super-speeding straight out the balcony door into the night air and not taking his cell or his communicator with him. Or–definitely does, in fact. Definitely that’s cheating. He knows it is. 

He just really can’t stand to hear Tim tell him how he’s fucked up this time right now, though. He just–he tried so fucking hard not to fuck up this time. 

He really, really tried. 

He should’ve known it wouldn’t work, but . . . but he really did try.

[asurashi]

deep in my enemy, I found my lover

[ Oscar as Carlos's race engineer AU ]

Based on the web weave in @milflewis's insane carcar fic 'all your ugliness'

[ ao3 ver ]

[abyss55199794]

shane

[anophiles]

kissing his scarred hands

[s1ushyz]

Can you guess what time it is?

C'mon take a guess,,

[oswinsdolma]

something about how merlin and arthur both died the moment they became a story. how in becoming a legend, they sacrificed the versions of themselves that were real for the infinite potentiality of the versions that could have been. "the story that we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men" but at the cost of the lovers who wrote it, fragmented across space and time by a thousand new imaginations that keep them alive in all that they never were. when we read their story, they are broken and reborn anew, so does that make us murderers or gods? or maybe the whole point is that there never really was much of a difference between the two.

[hypherr]

Where were you when I needed you

HC if Callum spent time with Ibis to practice and learn more about the sky arcanum and he was there when the Naughty Guys showed up. Aftermath of the battle is when Rayla finally reunites with him bc she managed to track Claudia up to the spire but she got there a liiittle too late :’)

[epickiya722]

I want everyone to be aware of Betten Court's vision of Rumi, Rappa and Iwao had they been a hero team.

[kcsplace]

Don't mind me losing my mind over how happy Don is here, the smile he gives Bobby. He's dying, the man literally has a 104* temperature and has lost like 15 pounds in a week, had to be carried to the boat to row, spends the first 1500m mentally orbiting Jupiter. Then his man cox sings to him to get through his illness-induced-catatonia, sings the song Don played upon Bobby's insistence to give him the stroke rhythm and Don doesn't just respond and give Bobby the 40 he wants, he fucking gives Bobby a grin the size of which we only see when they win.

No person in the film is responsible for a smile from Don except Bobby. He smiles at the ground at the bonfire. He smiles when the crew wins. When the crew is announced to be going to Poughkeepsie. When Bobby flies and then they all leap in too. He smirks momentarily after he finishes the piano, the very piece Bobby pushed him for.

But at a person? For a person? Only once.

For Bobby

And you're gonna tell me I wasn't intended to ship the daylights out of these two?

[bonefall]

one of the most frustrating things to me with the mapleshade/birchfall situation is its like. the only time since into the wild where the books acknowledge queens don't have to reveal the fathers of their litters. when mapleshade tells beetail (? the deputy whats-his-face) shell be raising the kittens alone, he accepts it without question. this implies her lying about birchface being the father was unnecessary, but in Bluestar’s prophecy everybody immediately assumes thrushpelt is the father the minute bluefur is known to be pregnant, and bluefur not correcting this is treated as a reasonable decision despite it being the SAME situation! it's just the authors want mapleshade to be unreasonable so this time it's bad actually.

The in-universe Queen's Rights are so poorly defined and utilized that the BB!Queen's Rights are essentially an entirely original framework. They sometimes exist in the books and sometimes don't, depending on if the writer remembers them or not.

They actually seem to not be a thing in Bluestar's Prophecy, from what I remember. Thrushpelt offers to be the pretend-father as a result.

It seems to have protected Fallowtail though, until Reedfeather decided to kidnap his kids.

Featherstorm's first litter, Raggedpelt and Scorchwind, are bullied for being fatherless and face constant speculation.

Same with Flintfang, Blackstar, and Fernshade. They're not even actually halfclan, Blackpaw holds his tongue and refuses to reveal the truth to stop bullies.

Brokenstar faces open bullying from his adopted siblings for not knowing who his mother is (but also he stops Yellowfang from telling Lizardstripe about it because he overheard a conversation where she told her friend she feels like the baby is stealing milk)

StarClan pushed for Squilf to lie to Brambleclaw for this reason, because they assumed (correctly) that having HalfClan suspicion would make it harder for The Three to be accepted into ThunderClan

So if a queen has "a right" to not reveal parents, it's not very protective. Your kids are going to face bullying and discrimination regardless of how loyal you actually are, or who the dad is.

But yeah suuuure Mapleshade was evil and horrible for not correcting Frecklewish. I can totally accept that in this completely arbitrary situation that somehow it would have turned out better if she told her No and left the whole Clan speculating.

[rogueulus]

rip black brothers you would've loved ethel cain

[almond-tofuuu]

Nearly Mine

Zayne x reader

Warnings: ANGST, no comfort just pain (bc I hate myself 🙂) unrequited love

lmk if I missed anything

Watching the excited smile spreading across your face made Zayne's heart flutter in his chest. His own mouth curling up ever so slightly as he listened to your melodic voice, a sound he had grown to love more than any piece of music.

He couldn't help but admire every little detail about you. The late afternoon sun illuminating your face, enhancing your beauty into something he could only describe as ethereal. He loved the way your eyes shone, or how they'd light up in excitement whenever you visited his office, their colour had quickly become his favourite. And your lips, so soft and kissable, he loved how they'd form the most tender smiles, or release the angelic sound of your laughter. To Zayne, every part of you was perfect. And if he looked hard enough, if he focused solely on the you in front of him, maybe he could forget about the band of silver encircling your finger. But that was nearly impossible with how eagerly you were displaying it to him. Because that's why you came to see him today, not for a checkup but to announce your engagement.

Zayne did everything that was expected of a good friend. He congratulated you, listened as you happily told him all about the proposal, he even managed to smile as he expressed how happy he was for you. It was only when you skipped out of his office, smiling softly and waving him goodbye, only then did he let the facade fall. His ever cool composure cracking, shattering like ice, much like the broken pieces of his heart.

He wasn't angry at you, he could never be, after all this wasn't your fault. No, his anger was aimed solely at himself. He'd lost count of the times he had nearly confessed to you, words and feelings bubbling to the surface before being strangled by his own fear. Thoughts of what-ifs overwhelmed his mind, conjuring up countless scenarios of how things could've been, each one driving deeper the knife that had become lodged in his heart the moment you showed him your engagement ring. Because that thin band of metal was confirmation of Zayne's greatest fear; that you weren't his, and now you never would be.

[samijey]

hold on hold on i'm suddenly getting emotional over the fact that sami and jey have now main-evented back to back wargames and both times they did it on the same team and hugged multiple times at the end BUT the difference is HUGE - the hugs in the first match look almost desperate, complete with a shirt grab (????) but then this year's hugs were slower and kinda tender hold on I'm having a moment hold onnn 😭😭😭

[rotatingremains]