#Sargent Saturday

[leenathegreengirl]

Even leaders need love 🥰💚💕

Nez had been the Batch’s handler for some time, and her and Hunter always had a special bond, trusting and relying on one another. It was only natural after all was said and done that they’d settle down on Pabu together 💚💕

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha

[vintagepromotions]

Cover of The Saturday Evening Post magazine, January 5 1957 issue. Artwork by Dick Sargent.

[newyorkthegoldenage]

The cover of the December 10, 1955 issue of the Saturday Evening Post showed a boy offering his seat on the subway to Santa. Illustration by Richard Sargent.

Photo: Saturday Evening Post

[acmeoop]

Anger Transference (1954)

"Anger Transference" Saturday Evening Post, March 20, 1954 Cover by Richard Sargent

[lilghostiequinni]

For All the Times Before

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: driver!female reader(no mention of y/n) x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffyish, Severe Injury, Probably incorrect use of Medical Terms

Summary: She drives with her big brother. Who would've thought Red Bull would have a woman driver; well, maybe it's because she's related to Max Verstappen. Or maybe she's just that good.

Requested: NO / yes

A/N: I did have to take a few creative liberties about the rest of the season.

One can only do so much when being compared to another, especially a sibling, but you prove them wrong at every step. Every single step, you prove you deserve to be racing, that you deserve your seat in Red Bull.

You show you deserve where you got to on your own, no help needed from your father or your big brother, all on you, not a single mistake made by you.

It's proven even more when you pass your brother for points in the race to win the 2024 World Championship, but that's not planned is the total disaster the Las Vegas Grand Prix turns out to be.

It started with the mishaps that happened during free practice on Friday, then the mechanical problems from qualifying on Saturday. Now, even though she made it through and started P2, she was still in the front row behind Oscar in P1 with Lando in P3 and her brother following with both Ferraris after that.

It was going swimmingly, the problems were fixed, and the only obstacle left was finishing in points position in this Grand Prix.

For the first few laps, everything was fine; it was a great race start, which allowed her to overtake Oscar for P1 by turn 1, with Oscar falling to P3 after being overtaken by Lando before lap 1 was over.

By the end of lap 2, you still had P1, but Oscar had fallen behind Max and Carlos for P5, having to hold off Charles for the position.

From lap 3 to lap 28, the places had changed, gaps stayed the same, and there were virtually no position changes from places of point position.

On lap 28, a safety car was deployed out because the cars of Ocon, Riccardo, and Magnussen bumped each other, sending each other into the wall of the race. It wasn't so terrible that they had to stop and restart the race, as everything was able to be moved out of the way and to the pit lanes after just two laps.

Laps 29 - 33 were everyone just getting back on track with the race.

With lap 34, the gaps that had been shortened had expanded exponentially, essentially giving the first five places the ability for a free pit.

Going into lap 35, those huge gaps shorted.

36 - 42 were rather uneventful in terms of what usually happens toward the end with place fighting, everyone stayed in their places, and gaps stayed relatively similar.

In lap 43, Lando tried overtaking multiple times but was forced to back off as Max approached from behind, trying to overtake Lando when he wasn't trying to overtake you.

Onto lap 44, you saw a significant gap gained between you two, almost 12 seconds of a gap, but just as you had been watching Lando, you had been watching Bottas.

It was in lap 45 that it started to go shit Bottas was in the middle of trying to overtake Sargent when they both got the blue flag, and both tried to move over, resulting in a slight accident as you passed, no real damage to your car.

Then lap 46, that gap to Lando stayed in around 12 seconds, but you made it all the way back up to the drivers in 8th, 9th, and 10th place, Gasly, Hulkenburg, and Stroll.

Nothing seemed wrong at first.

Stroll was in 10th. He got the blue flag first, and Hulkenberg was able to pull ahead of him. When he got the blue flag, he wasn't able to pull to the side after he slowed because Stroll was in the way of the rear of his car.

When he tried to pull ahead to get over, Gasly was in the way, having also gotten a blue flag.

You tried to pass as Hulkenberg had to serve to move into the middle of the track to miss hitting the other two drivers, but his front tire got caught in your rear wheel, and you spun out, hitting the wall and not being able to get back in the race.

The rest of the grid was given a red flag just after it happened, and it was seen you were not able to move your car and you weren't responding.

Lando had driven past you, not knowing if you had responded, just hoping you were okay as he made his way to the pit.

But when he pitted and was told you hadn't responded, he was almost able to get back in his car and on the track before he was stopped by his engineer.

So, not able to do much more, he went over to Red Bull, who allowed the exception, knowing how important you are to Lando and Lando is to you.

"Please respond," Lando pleaded to himself as he was given some headphones.

"Ow," was the first that came through your side of the radio.

"Can you get out on your own?" Your race engineer asked.

"No, my leg is stuck, and everything hurts. I want Lando," You say over the radio. It isn't rare that you want your boyfriend after a race or when you get sick or hurt, being extra clingy.

"He'll meet you at med-bay. The med-car is on its way, almost to you, Angel," Your engineer said, using the nickname you'd been given by the entire grid.

You had gone to the med-bay only to be there until the ambulance came.

It was when Lando was allowed in that you learned that the last few laps of the race had been canceled and the places that were last gotten in lap 44 were where people ended, and points were given though the FIA and Formula One were reviewing the causes of the accident and other things that had happened during the race, as usual.

You had been brought to the hospital, and Lando had ridden with you, both per and against your request, wanting your boyfriend and also wanting him to stay and be able to change before having to go in.

When you arrived at the hospital, you were taken for tests, and Lando was to stay in the waiting room as other drivers had arrived at the hospital.

You had been brought back to a room and both your brother and Lando had met you there.

"She's a little out of it, but a doctor will be in shortly. She should be good by then." The nurse said as she went to walk out of the room.

Both men nod, and Lando sits on the side of your bed as Max stands at the foot and looks over his sister, though he knows that he can't see the internal injuries you may have.

Around an hour later, you had woken from the drug-induced sleep and were not so woozy when the doctor came in.

"Hello, Ms. Verstappen, I am Dr. Kruz, and I looked over your tests. You have a linear fracture to your left tibia and a transverse fracture to your left fibula, with minute fractures to a couple of your ankle bones, a couple of small chips, and a fracture to your outermost metatarsal, again on the left side. You also seem to have minimal internal bleeding in your abdomen and a few rib cracks on your left side, with a few bone bruises throughout your ribcage. There are also a few cracks along your left arm that should be fine within a few weeks. I'm sorry to say that you might not be able to finish the season, but I am also not your primary doctor to know enough about how you heal." The doctor tells her.

"I just want to be able to race in that Abu Dhabi in about a month," You tell her; it's one of your favorite tracks, and you'd rather race it to win than miss it.

The doctor gives her a small sad smile before she also leaves to allow the information to sink in.

"You will still probably win the championship; you have points ahead of everyone; it's two races. There aren't enough points to be given out," Lando tries to comfort her.

"I know, but I still want to earn that title, to prove to everyone and myself that it doesn't need to be handed to me," You say to your boyfriend.

It's safe to say that you pushed your recovery more than your trainer, engineer, and doctor would like, but you were back in that car under two weeks later, having appealed to your doctor about the break you would be taking in between seasons.

He reluctantly agreed, having only the major breaks in your left leg and foot to be careful about, and the internal bleeding was relatively better, and you, the primary one you went to in Monaco, came with you to Abu Dhabi.

The team also added some more support to your car and some little monitors for your heart rate and everything else medical, and your doctor stood in the paddock watching over your vitals as you raced, starting P4 behind Lando, Max, and Charles, after a mishap in qualifying.

All gave you a fair race, but you were still able to pull away in first place in the last five laps of the race as you felt pain starting in your leg; you just took a couple deep breaths to calm down, focusing down on the task at hand.

You were so focused on just getting it done you didn't realize that you had just crossed the finish line with a checkered flag signaling the end of the race and your win.

"You did it, Angel. You are a world champion," Your race engineer said over the radio.

You breathe a sigh of relief and just sit on the side of the circuit just before turn 5.

"Do you cool down lap and get to pit," Your engineer says as you pull in the circuit as you do your lap.

You finish the lap and just wait in the car as it's a little difficult to move still, and you lift the visor of your helmet and wipe the tears from your eyes.

Lando and Max come over to your car and help you out, helping you balance on the top of your car with one leg and throw your arms in the air in victory.

YOu get your helmet off and kiss Lando's helmet as he and Max help you away from the circuit and to the way in then to interviews.

A/N: Yes, I did one of these on my own with a reader, not an oc; it felt right. But which do you prefer? I'm done for the night; tomorrow, the first part of my Lando series will be out.

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[ssavaart]

Happy Saturday, All!

In 2020, we were all in lockdown and the world was crazy and I had NO motivation to make art. So, I joined TikTok and, out of sheer boredom, started posting sketches.

Each day, I’d find a random photo online and spend an hour or two painting that into my sketchbook.

Every day.

I wasn’t “making art”.

I was just sketching. Doodling. Goofing off.

I did hundreds of these over the next year until I felt ready to “make art” again.

Sometimes our minds aren’t ready for something big. Sometimes we just need to keep our hands busy and covered in paint until our minds and souls are creative again.

(This was a study of John Singer Sargent’s “Madame X”)

Anyways. I’ll be posting some of my favorite sketchbook doodles for the next few days. Hope that’s okay.

Sending big hugs from the Hobbit Hole ❤️

Scott

[bunny-jpeg]

the blue

capt. john price

cw: romance, smut/pwp, oral sex (f & m receiving), pet names & praise (good girl), semi-dom!price, smoking & drinking, authority kink, fingering (f receiving)

The first time you saw Price smoking, you thought your eyes were going to roll back into your head and you were going to collapse. You felt like a fiend watching him lazily exhale as he leaned back into his chair and kick his feet up.

For a man of such high status, he didn't mind getting his expensive wooden desk covered in the mud from his boots. A moment you wondered what it would look like to have your tongue on those boots. But you shut down those thoughts quickly as you placed the paperwork on the other side of the desk.

"For you, Captain." You squeaked in an effort to not sound like your mind was polluted with horrible, horrible thoughts.

He took another inhale and nodded as he exhaled. He coughed a little into his fist before he said, "Thanks, love. I know I can always count on ya." And gave you such a gentle smile.

You wanted him to put that cigar out on your back.

Before you could linger on the thought any longer, you turned on a heel and exited out of his office. In your quick exit, you didn't notice his blue eyes on your behind as you walked.

You did hear his soft chuckle as you closed the door behind you. Your cheeks burned and your cunt ached.

God you needed to get laid.

-

The bar was alive on a Saturday night, every soldier and their gran was packed into the place. You had the misfortune of being sandwiched between two of your fellow officers. They reeked of cigarettes and the stale beer they had spilled down their civilian clothing.

You sipped idly at your beer and occasionally reached for the chips at the center of the table. You dipped them in some ketchup and ate as you slowly got a headache from your colleagues insistent yelling.

You could see in the corner of the bar, taskforce 141. even the sight of all four of them together was a little intimidating. Each of them were trained killers. While you have never actually killed someone on the field, you could only imagine what it took for them to do that.

It was a little scary.

"Hey!" You heard. You looked over and was met very close to your fellow officer.

"Can ya get us some more beers?"

This was your chance to get away from the table, so you nodded and skittered off. Your ears burned when you heard their sneering comments about you as you headed to the bar.

"Can I get two Heinekens, and a Tennents." You heard.

You stood beside the one they called Soap. He had his elbows rested on the wood of the bar. You tried not to make eye contact with him or the large bandage that was covering an upper side of his head.

"Are they botherin' ya, bonnie?" He asked, not making eye contact with you.

"They're not too bad. I think they're just drunk."

He shrugged, "Well, if you want to get away from them." He turned to look at you. His eyes were so blue, they almost struck fear into you. But his smile at you softened your fears, "You can join us. I don't think the captain will mind."

His attention was brought back when he heard the bartender's voice. He gave you one last look out of the corner of his eye and tilted his head in the direction of his table, "Go now, before you're 'friends' notice anything."

Without thinking about it too much, you headed towards the taskforce's table and looked at all of them.

Price was the first to smile, "seems like our sargent got you out that situation." He shifted over on the bench he was seated on, "C'mere." His voice made your heart skip.

You carefully sat down beside him at the end of the bench and he threw his arm over the back of it, almost touching your shoulders. You froze when you heard his voice in your ear.

"You should've asked Soap to get ya a beer." He chuckled.

His chuckle made you gooey on the inside. Like melted caramel on the pavement. Sticky and heavy in your chest. You tried not to show too much expression at his sweet words.

"I'm not a big drinker." You replied.

"Aw." Price said as he carefully played with a strand of your hair, "Are ya a real party animal after a few too many pints?"

"The opposite. I get a headache and fall asleep."

Price laughed. His shoulders tense and his mouth wide as he did so. He then shook his head, "Well aren't you just the sweetest thing since jam."

You spent the rest of the evening so close to Price. His hand was so close to touching your back. You wanted those large, rough hands all over your back. On your breasts and down your thighs.

Working man hands.

Any time he laughed at a stupid story, you felt it right in your core. You pressed your thighs together and tried to laugh along to the story.

You quickly noticed that he wasn't drinking either, he had been nursing the same beer most of the night. And after that, he switched to water.

It was late when the soldiers started to file out of the bar and head back to base.

"Well, I'll need a good walk after tonight." He said as he got up. His eyes on you as you got up from your seat.

"Not takin' the Uber?" Kyle asked.

"Nah. We won't all fit." Price remarked, "Me and the officer will walk it back." He looked at you, "If she chooses too, of course."

You swallowed and nodded, "I'd love to. I think I need to stretch my legs out."

Price and Kyle shared a glance. Kyle laughed into his hand as he left to find his teammates who were searching for the ride home. Once Price was away from the table, he held his hand out for you.

"C'mon now. Before it gets too late."

"It's almost past midnight." You remarked.

He gently took your hand and led you out of the bar, "Well you missy, need some sleep at some point. Can't have ya fallin' asleep on your feet tomorrow. Soldier's mind has to be sharp."

The hand holding felt intimate, or maybe you were thinking too much about it. But you enjoyed the feeling.

You pressed your luck, "I don't think I'll be able get up on time tomorrow."

He looked at you, under the orange glow of the street lamps. He replied, "Then I guess you'll have to sleep with me tonight, birdie."

Your brain turned off at that point. You remembered nodding like an idiot and that the walk felt like it went on forever. But when you came back to planet Earth. His hands were on your blouse.

"You look good in blue." He remarked as he undid the buttons with such grace.

"Not as nice as your eyes." You replied softly.

He took the shirt off your arms and his hands cupped your breasts briefly before he started to undo your bra. He then replied, "Blue like the ocean, and well, I want to explore all of ya."

You almost choked on your tongue and your eyes went wide. You replied, "Well... Not much to see."

He chuckled, "Well, love. You're wrong. Not get out of that skirt and let me show ya how badly I want it."

He didn't have condoms in his room, he wasn't sleeping with the entire base. So you two would have to get creative. First it started with him eating you out. Then you sucked him off. And finally you could sleep soundly in those strong arms.

It was a simple plan. You liked simple.

Once you were nude, his hands roamed your body. His fingers were so dry and calloused, that the scratchiness of it made your nipples hard.

"Been thinkin' about ya lately." He said softly. His voice still has a gruff to it that made you warm all over, "Since you came into my office. The way you looked at me, it was like you were tryin' to undress me with yer eyes."

And you thought you were being cool.

"I'm sorry." You instinctively apologized.

"Don't be. I like when you do it." He hoisted your thighs onto his shoulders. He gave them flesh a heart squeeze before he gave you a look, "Because then I can undress ya for real." Then planted a kiss on your pussy lips.

You put your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet. The feeling of his warm tongue on your clit made you choke back louder moans. The feeling was euphoric, his tongue was talented. It left you wanting more.

And more he was willing to give.

He knew exactly what tricks to play to made you feel good. His nose against your clit and his tongue licking around your entrance. He held your hips up and he worked on your cunt.

He had you holding onto the sheets because you couldn't yank on his hair. He was so strong and domineering. It was an intense feeling. He wanted to make sure that you felt good.

When your hole fluttered at the feeling of immense pleasure, he took great pleasure in himself. While he was shirtless, his pants were still on as he keeled on the bed to eat you out like the finest pastry ever constructed.

"Ah! Price!" You said through your hands.

"So good for me." He said between licks, "I knew ya would be. Eager to please, be a good girl." His accent sounded heavier as he became drunk off the sensation of eating you out and the pain in his pants.

You nodded, "I'll be good for you."

"That's what I like to hear." He purred in response.

Price's tongue was an intense feeling. He played with your clit with a precision that took the wind out of you. You felt soaked between your legs and could do very little about it. You tried to keep quiet but the intensity of his worship left you unable to hold back much.

Your heart pounded, you felt the rapid rise and fall of your chest. Your pussy ached, you wanted, no, needed Price. The captain, the big strong man who thought you were just the sweetest thing.

"I take good care of ya, love, eh?" He chuckled against your sex, "Make ya feel good. Don't get thinkin' I do this to every officer. No, no, only the good girls who listen to me."

You made a small 'eep' noise when he facial hair brushed against your pussy lips. You curled you shoulders closer to your face. And all Price did was chuckle.

"Atta girl." He purred, "Such a good listener." He gave a slow, lazy lick across your pussy. He tasted your wetness like it was fine wine. He made a pleased noise, "I think I'll be keepin' ya for a while." He already heard wedding bells in his ears as he went back to eating you out.

You were far from a weak woman, a tad on the quiet side. But far from weak. Price liked that, a woman who could hold her own. He held your thighs to his head and pressed them to his cheeks.

His cock was painfully hard, pressed against his slacks as he continued his movements. With a quiver of your thighs to his head, he knew you were getting close.

He took his thumb and rubbed it against your clit as he put his full attention to your hole. The new noises you were making elated him. He continued to push and push you.

"i. I'm close!" You whimpered.

"Good girl." He purred. His facial hair wet with your slickness. He felt your thighs press against his head, for a moment he wished you'd crush him. And you came hard with your toes curled and your head thrown back. The drop back to reality from the height of pleasure was intense.

He pulled away and wiped his mouth. He knew he'd have to do a full clean of his beard later. As much as he loved the taste, the smell would draw a few glances come morning.

You looked to him, you could see the noticeable bulge in his pants. You reached for him, but he took you by the arms and placed you beside him on your hands and knees at the bottom of the bed.

He rubbed your hair gently, "You did this to me." He remarked. He got his cock out of his slacks and the size made your hole clench.

You looked at him, "I've never taken anything this big before."

He chuckled, "Aw don't worry, love. I'll take good care of ya. That's what a captain does to a good girl like you."

"And what if I was bad?" You curiously asked. Heat spread in your cheeks.

He smiled, "Well, you wouldn't be able to talk for a few days when I was done with you. Hold your head down while you choked on my cock."

Your eyes went wide, you let him guide your head as you placed your lips around his cock. You were glad that you were a good girl. Your pussy felt so slick as you began to suck him off.

He held you hair gently, there wasn't much force to his movements. Just a guiding hand as he raised and lowered your head onto his cock. He was impressed by how much you knew already. But almost eight inches of cock was a bit much for anyone.

And he knew you weren't some slut. You were his good girl after all. But he'd teach you everything you needed to know.

He switched his hand in your hair and leaned over so he could finger you while you sucked him off. The feeling of his hands all over you left your head feeling heavier. But you were determined to make the captain proud.

Saliva coated your chin quickly as you tried to take more of his size. You gripped onto his sturdy thigh and let him do what he wanted. Your eyes were shut but if you were open they'd feel like they were in the back of your head.

"Good girl." He said softly, his voice rough, "That's a good girl. You know exactly what you're doin'."

You whimpered in response. You felt the curl of passion in your gut as you continued to pleasure him. He was good to you, a good man.

"Ah, John." You grumbled with his cock in your mouth.

He leaned in and kissed you on the top of the head, "Careful, don't choke." His words were encouraging. But they only made pleasure pool in your gut.

He was so gentle with his touches, even as his fingers plug your hole. He continued to guide your mouth on his cock. The feeling was immense, it bled through him like molasses.

He rolled his hips ups a little and pushed his cock a little further, just barely nudging the back of your throat. He groaned under his breath. With a few more movements of your head, he tilted his head back and let out a groan.

He came into your throat. You were shocked for a moment before you swallowed it greedily. He was panting heavily as he let go of you and rested back on his elbows.

You looked up at him with blurry vision. He reached for you and wiped your eyes lovingly. You pouted your bottom lip and he pulled you in for a soft kiss.

He held you face so delicately, your wetness got on your chin from his fingers inside of you. You moaned into the kiss, the saltiness on both of your lips.

When he broke the kiss, he led you further up the bed and wrapped his strong arms around you. He kissed at your cheek and neck with a sweet kind of love.

"How was that, baby girl?" He asked.

You nodded, "Perfect." The words felt heavy on your tongue but it was a great feeling.

He kissed the top of your head as he pulled you to his hairy chest, "Good girl."

"I'm sorry I made a mess." You mumbled.

He stroked your back, letting you melt against him. He assured you, "Don't be, love. I love when good girls make a mess." His words curled around your brain.

He gave you gentle kisses and admired the feeling of you against him. He let you rest, in the back his mind he pictured you in picturesque white, a glowing smile and a ring around you finger.

His eyes were warm when he gazed down at you. He continued to rub your back. Mrs. Price was all he could think of as he held you. <3

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 78 (Conrad's New Dad Mode)

Heather and Conrad brought baby Lavender home under a light snowfall. A dusting of white on the ground quickly disappeared: the calm before Brindleton's Bay's notoriously blizzard-like winter weather.

Inside the Nesbitt-Gordon home, not even the cries of a tiny newborn could dampen her blissful parents' spirits.

Baby Lavender loved attention from the start, often crying just to be held. Both mom and baby were in perfect health, and Conrad took to fatherhood immediately.

She was named to honour Conrad's mother, whose death so deeply affected him. Every night, he cradled his daughter in his strong arms when he came home from work, his heart full of love he'd never imagined possible.

"Hi, sweet girl. Daddy missed you today." The tiny infant gazed back at him, wide-eyed. "And what did you do all day? Did you sleep well? Did you let your mom sleep well, too?"

Heather woke from a nap and watched Conrad bond with their daughter. "I think she's already smiling at you," she said.

"I think I'm turning into my Dad. He loved everyone's babies and I always thought I'd drop them. But it's like I can hear him in my head telling me how to hold her. Like he's right here."

Heather shrugged. "Maybe he is. You know I'm not really into all that Watcher stuff, but we've seen ghosts, made friends with the Grim Reaper..."

"Mrs. Goth's daughter-in-law really walked in on her and Grim getting out of the shower together?"

"That's what Spencer said! If it wasn't Mrs. Goth, I might not believe it. But after everything she's shown us this past year, it just makes sense. Apparently Lydia wasn't even phased by it because living with Mrs. Goth is like walking around in a half-haunted house."

(Apparently actual woohoo actions with Grim aren't available until Tuesday because these two are fully official romantic partners now and would not get in the shower or even 'woohoo here.' HURRY UP, BELLA WANTS SOME GRIMMIE!)

"She brings up travelling on her seance table practically every time I see her," said Conrad. "And it's weird...ever since I got back from the Magic Realm I've been just as curious as I've been glad we've been too busy."

"You should go sometime. I told you, it was like going to school. I might need to stick close to Lavender to meet her demanding schedule, but Bella kept you safe in Glimmerbrook and we all trust her. Ash, too."

"I heard him talk about good tailoring the other day." He chuckled, placing Lavender back in her bassinet. "Between Bella and Nancy, I won't be surprised if he ditches the knit caps and hoodies for good, eventually."

"How was your day?" Heather stood, pulling him into an embrace.

"Long. I'm glad to be home. Hard to believe you're already going back to work next week."

(She didn't take traditional maternity leave as a small business owner. She just had a baby on Saturday and went back to work on Tuesday in-game.)

Conrad's phone beeped. "Is that work?" Heather asked.

He nodded. "Ever since I made sargent at the station, my cases have gotten a little tougher. But this can wait."

"My parents want to come this weekend to meet Lavender, and I said it was fine," she said. Conrad nodded as his phone beeped again. "Do you need to get that? Conrad, are you okay? Is this about those security cameras you ordered?"

"What? No. That's just a safety precaution."

"Well, why now?"

He froze, glancing back at their sleepy-eyed little girl. "She came along and I just...It's not like we'll be the only people in the world with a home security system."

"Conrad, if you're working a difficult case, you can talk to me. I can handle it."

He smiled. "Everything's fine, and the phone stopped beeping. What should I make for dinner?"

Although Heather and Conrad were officially engaged, they had no immediate plans to tie the knot - mostly because Heather and the Watcher wanted to wait for a warmer season to get married.

They were still a team, still committed, but for now they were both busy with work, caring for their pets, and raising two kids. Heather balanced Lavender's feeding schedule, helped Ash with his homework, and ran the clinic.

But unlike when Ash was born, Heather wasn't by herself and she could rely on Conrad to be there. Despite her exhaustion, this time felt so much easier. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I'm trying to make my posts shorter. Trying! This post was going to have 23 photos so it's been split into two and this episode is posting a lil earlier than I'd intended it to post tomorrow. I'm still trying to get out a certain amount of storyline before Halloween so I've already broken my plan to post every other day. I'm learning as I go and I'm slowly adapting to shorter installments, I swear, but thank you so much for putting up with my wordiness, guys. 🙏

[mar3ggiata]

the night of the tarantula - 1

simon riley x oc

'All is fair in Love and War'

She sensed something was wrong from the second she woke up. She felt dizzy and lightheaded from the alcohol of the night before, it was still early. She had to go to base for a checkup on a patient, nothing major, but she offered the young Sargent a small meeting even if it was a Saturday. She had gone to bed happy, smiling into her pillow like a fool. It was his presence, just being in the same room as him did something to her. She thought about it all night, his arm nearly touching hers while sitting at the table, the was he would bend towards her, hunching his back to talk to her closely like his words were only meant for her. He was protective, or possessive, driving her home and making sure she got inside her flat. He even pet the dog, was incredibly excited to see him. He'd make a great dad for Jinx…

She thought about what could have happened if she asked him to stay. Maybe she would have offered him a gin and tonic, he would have suggested to drink tea. They had too much already. Maybe they would have made out on the couch. She imagined him sitting in her small apartment, Jinx asleep in his dog bed (moved to the bathroom for the occasion), her legs straddling his hips. She imagined removing his mask with her teeth, covering the scars on his face with sweet kisses, she wondered how he tasted, of beer probably. She imagined him gentle, firm grip on her ass, hands caressing her back. Maybe he was a good kisser, maybe she was going to be the first woman he ever kissed. She imagined him on top of her, while settling down in her bed, she imagined his body between her and the ceiling. He was tall, large and bulky and yet, she imagined him so gentle and delicate. She would have guided his hand between her thighs.

She fell asleep flustered and with her legs pressed together.

The base was quiet, the only noise being the clicking of her boots on the floor. She was early for her appointment, that's what gave her time to realise what was going on. She felt like the few soldiers she passed were looking at her. So strange, she was almost nervous, and for what? A simple chat with a patient? Her heart was beating faster than usual. It was really no surprise there were 4 people waiting for her in front of her office. They know. She turned the corner, she saw them and immediately turned and sprinted in the opposite direction. Her heart jumped in her chest, her legs moving quick without even realising. She heard them shout her name, she was already down the emergency stairs. They found out. It's done, it's done, I'm done. Her bag was nearly flying off her shoulder, she sprinted down the stair, they were following her, telling her to stop. Do they have guns, are they gonna kill me? She knew she had parked just opposite the emergency exit, she always parked there… just in case. She had never thought that day would come. So stupid, she had made a terrible mistake the night before, she knew this was gonna happen...

She got out the emergency door, which flew open, hitting the wall with a loud clang. She was stopped by the muzzle of a gun aimed directly at her forehead. She raised her arms, a small step backwards. Fuck.

She didn't scream, she didn't make a sound.

When the gun was lowered, Simon stood in front of her, hard grip on his weapon.

'Isn't this enough?' Simon turned towards her, twisting his chair. She gripped the counter's edge, her knuckles turned white. 'It's not enough? What more do you want?' He went on. She pressed her lips in a thin line. He really didn't understand her point, nor did he try for that matter. 'It's fine Simon, I'm going without you.'

'The hell you're not'.

He was standing up at this point, she turned her body in his direction. He was scared. She crossed her arms and let out a sarcastic laugh, 'Oh, am I not allowed, Lieutenant?'

'No, it's dangerous, we're not going.'

She blinked a few times, then turned back to the sink and resumed washing the dishes. 'I said I am. You can stay here if you want.'

'Eva, I said n-'

'Don't bother.'

They escorted her in an interrogation room. She felt like crying, she felt stupid and naive. Such a stupid mistake, she was drunk, she didn't think... She kept quiet, her jaw tense, fists clenched. It was a defeat really, and Simon… He must have had that briefing that morning, he… Seeing him pointing his gun at her face made her insides turn, Gaz and Soap stood behind him, same angry, disappointed expression on their faces. Not for the danger itself, she was not afraid she was going to get killed. Just… him, his look, his mask. She knew by betraying him like that, the guy she came to knowing over the past two months was going to be gone forever.

It took Simon a good 30 seconds to have her face the wall and put her hands behind her back, but he did it eventually. Aiming a gun at her wasn't on this year's bingo card. It brought him back to reality really, he went back to being Ghost. He really had thought life was giving him something good for once, you know, he thought things were going to be different. And he would learn to be normal, a normal guy with a girlfriend or some shit, but no. Turns out sweet angel Alba, or better, Eva, is a serial killer immigrated from Italy to America to ruin his life. Eva, the same person he spent Christmas with, the same person who danced the fucking nutcracker Snow Queen bullshit, was a terrorist. Her in her stupid, angelic ballet tutu. He had to take her for what she really was, terrorist. Murderer. Aiming his gun at her forehead was scary. He had never seen his hand shake, and he saw his fingers trembling a little, on the trigger. She, however, she wasn't scared. And it was infuriating, he wanted her scared. Be sorry for what you did, no? No, she wasn't sorry. She looked at him surprised, she looked at the gun, she waited for him to act, patiently. He saw it in her eyes, she wasn't scared cause she knew it was going to happen, like she had rehearsed what she was going to do when, or if, they found out. That was when he felt the most disconnected from her. Thinking about the fact she knew all along, she had planned her escape in case they found her, it made his blood boil. It made him furious.

'I just feel like you don't appreciate what I'm giving you'

She hated that part of herself, but she was conscious she always raised her voice when she was annoyed. The Italian in her. Also, her accent was much more heavy and thick on her tongue. She roller the r, clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth when pronouncing a t.

'How can you say that?' She screamed, her hands on her hips.

'Non urlare', he replied in perfect Italian. He hated when she raised her voice. Reminded him of his childhood. She was loud when she was happy and chatty or mad about her coworkers, but never directing it towards him. When she did he would stay silent until she was finished. She was passionate about everything, even their fights. And the Italian, well, he learned by living with her. He had to. She was tired of English, sometimes she didn't feel like trying. He learned by the way she spoke to Salvo and her sister, he learned vocabulary. She called him 'amore', 'amore mio', 'cuore'. And he liked it better than any other pet name he had ever heard, or tried to use. He never used 'sweetheart' or 'baby' ever again. He learned a few things, cause it made her smile when he spoke it with his thick Mancunian accent. It made her smile that he was trying, and he got good at it. His accent sounded natural, he switched from English to Italian like a professional.

'Non urlare.' Don't yell.

'Spiegami.' Explain.

He was very bad at confronting her, especially when she was this mad, this loud. He went silent, he stood there without moving, he felt trapped. He feared that speaking about something that was wrong would scare her away. He feared to wake up with her bags packed beside the door. Plus, she knew more about communication, and the whole relationship thing, she was always telling him the things he was thinking. She studied criminal psychology, she was a therapist for Christ's sake. He could never win with her, she always outsmarted him. He mumbled some incoherent words under his breath, his shoulders raising in defence.

'See?' She let her arms drop at her sides, 'You feel like I'm not appreciating what you give me, Simo, look at what I gave you!' She raised her arms, pointing to their apartment, their life, their routine. Well it was all hers, really. He had just moved in.

The interrogation room was cold, looked like the ones in the movies. They had her sitting in a chair, the three soldiers standing on her right, rifles in hand. Price and another man were inside, General Shepherd. She sat quietly with her hands behind her back, they had a laptop on the table in front of her. She had prepared for this moment, she had a code word for Salvo, in case she got caught. She knew what to do. She knew what was gonna happen, she kept quiet and kept thinking. Her phone was in her bag, sitting at Gaz's feet. She could ask to call him, tell him to go pick up her dog and take the pink leash. Taking the pink leash meant to take Jinx from her apartment and destroy any evidence she might have that incriminated her, he knew where to find everything. Every sign of Italy, of her family. A picture of her sister hidden in her bookshelf, a teddy from when she was young, her dead brother's shirt from when he was only 16, everything. It only took a phone call…

She looked up to see the door open and a woman step inside, tall, brunette in her early thirties. Price greeted her. Then Shepherd spoke. 'So, Alba… well… Eve, might as well call you Eve…' She looked at him like she was going to jump at his neck and kill him right there. She had never liked him, from the day she came to the first job interview two years ago. And her name wasn't fucking Eve, and he probably knew. She let her eyes examine his hands, his posture, the colour of his socks, rage building up in her chest. He noticed. He was startled for a second.

'…Eve, you sent a text to your sister Maria yesterday night at 2.41am from your apartment, on Campbell Ave if I'm not mistaken.' She looked at the laptop in front of her without replying. They already knew, what did they need her for? It was correct, she was drunk, she was happy, she smoked some weed and texted her sister for the first time in 4 years. A dumb mistake. She did the one thing she wasn't supposed to do. Reach out.

He continued, 'Maria is in the list of people you can't contact as per your contract, you know that.' He took a step close, she didn't raise her eyes. 'We could get you arrested, Eve, your family is dangerous', he continued, she felt her left eye twitch, as happened when she was stressed. She bit the inside of her cheek. '... You were hired and given a second chance under many conditions, but this, the message, is nothing but a betrayal of our trust. We can't have criminals working for the American government.'

He gave a look to his left, the brunette woman spoke to her in Italian. 'Eva, hai capito cosa ha detto?' She had a good accent, but still, a fucking translator? Unbelievable. She chucked, a single puff of air from her nostrils. They brought her so she could not speak Italian. So stupid, ignorant pigs. It was outrageous. Price jumped in, 'Eva listen, this doesn't have to be difficult, you can tell us what you did and why in Italian and Grace here will translate.' She felt her eye twitch again, she was starting to sweat. She needed more time. She took a few deep breaths and waited for them to go on. They did, cause they were impatient.

'You wrote that you missed her, your sister Maria, is that correct? What doest that stand for?'

'Is it code for something, does it have a meaning?'

She started to feel the familiar stinging pain of a migraine at her left temple, her contact lenses suddenly dry.

'You know, this is a good timing to get back in contact with your family, business is moving in Italy as I'm sure you know. Are you planning on going back?'

She bit her lower lip until she tasted blood.

'You know you breached our rules, we had said no contact whatsoever.'

'Eva we don't have time for this, if you could…'

'Grace', she spoke. She felt tears pricking the sides of her eyes, she turned towards the woman. She moved slowly. Her last shot, she considered her options and, well, there was really nothing she could do to get out of the situation. She could feel ringing in her ears, her heart beating so fast she felt like fainting. Her voice was low, but they payed attention now. From the corner of her eye, she almost saw Simon move against the wall, like he couldn't sit still. She almost forgot he was there.

Grace looked surprised to see her directly call out her name. She must feel important right now, thought Eva. Could turn this investigation around. The woman took a step towards her chair. 'Yes, Eva, puoi parlarmi.' So sweet, Grace had told her she could speak Italian to her if it made her feel better, so nice of Grace! She tilted her head, examining the woman's features. She was pretty. And confident. Eva could change that.

'Tu si capace 'e parlà 'o dialetto?'

Silence. The men waited for Grace to translate, but she didn't. Cause she didn't know what Eva said. They were so so so stupid...Grace's expression crumbled when she understood Italian grammar books didn't cover regional dialects, which is a shame, considering it was the first language Eva learned as a child. Still, nice try.

'Pardon me…?'

She didn't bother replying. She turned back in her chair, facing the table and the laptop. She saw her reflection in the black screen. She examined her eye bags, her bangs covering her forehead, her lips. She needed to stay strong, she needed to get a hold of her emotions, like she always did. This was just another day on the job.

The two men in front of her were trying to grasp why Grace didn't understand her dialect, the woman was telling them southern dialects are considered entirely different languages to standard Italian, only natives of the south really understood them. She saw Price rub his hands on his face in a defeated way. She was winning, at least for now. It didn't last long.

'Use her friend.' Said a voice. A deep voice, not just someone, him. Simon. She looked at him for the first time. They gave him their attention, she felt colour leave her cheeks. No...

'She has a friend from southern Italy, Salvatore, he's not deployed at the moment. Call him in. He knows the dialect.'

He was good, she had to give him that. Good idea, bring Salvatore in to talk to her. Good, good. Good soldier, Ghost. She let herself look at him, she didn't bother acknowledging the other two soldiers asking Ghost how he knew that information. It was obvious they were close, at this point. Not anymore, I guess. After this, she could never speak to him again. Good soldier, she had trusted him with the name of her best friend, now he was turning against her. Fair. I betrayed you, you betray me. Fair. All is fair in Love and War. She looked at him with compassionate eyes, he did too. You don't know what you just did. If we're here, in this room, and I have my hand tied it's cause I'm a threat. Don't you feel threatened, Ghost?

Behind that mask, coward, she couldn't pinpoint his expression. His eyes were on her face, her figure, hands cuffed behind her back. He had dreamed of her over and over again, he had imagined her as his pillow when he held it in the darkness of his room. He had envisioned her hands on his body, he had thought about her scent, he was consumed by her. She took that all away, with all those lies. It was gone, it was good while it lasted. She deserved his fury now. She was the enemy, after all.

And what does a good soldier do to his enemy?

I'll let him tell it.

notes: in italian, the abbreviation of the name Simone, Simon in English, is Simo (read Seemo. Simone is pronounced Seemone and not Seemonee, does that even make sense?)

notes: I'm back I'm sorry this took forever ouch

taglist:

@random-fandom-smoothie @lucienofthelakes

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me @asteriadisera

[nijinokanatani]

Richard Sargent (1911-1978 or 1979)

The Saturday Evening Post, cover illustration

Frog In The Library／Crashing Mom's Card Party／Big Shadow, Little Boy／Happy Mother's Day

[leenathegreengirl]

Tunes-Giving Event: Hunter/Nez (NOV 30)

Passion is the essence of the connection between Hunter and Nez—an intense bond that first sparked during the war and has only deepened since. What was once a simmering tension beneath the surface is now a free and unreserved closeness. Whether it’s his signature long locks or her bold red lipstick, this pair exudes the kind of timeless, sophisticated allure that captivates everyone around them. Their playlist mirrors this sensual energy, filled with powerful ballads and anthems of romance that pulse with intensity and desire. Every song is a reflection of the magnetic chemistry they share—both refined and deeply passionate.

'Cause I'm your lady

And you are my man

I wanna know what love is

I want you to show me

One look at you and I can't disguise

I've got hungry eyes

I feel the magic between you and I

Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Wrap my hand around her waist 

Put my cheek upon your face 

Turn you around so you could see

What you cookin' up in me

Meet Nez!  EVENT MASTERLIST

(Special thank you my dear friend and creative partner @legacygirlingreen for making this event possible! She is responsible for all the writing, design layout, post editing & greatly assisted in song selections!)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @justanotherdikutsimp @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream

[azdmathings]

Hot Daddy Weekend

Saturday Fun

The Sargent, Retired Army Daddy, lives in the neighborhood, you would not believe the drills he can puts you through!

[guillotinna]

Intelligence analyst! Reader

No romance sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️

Baddie! Reader too bc these men r too comfortable 💅🏻

Imagine intelligence analyst! Reader who worked with Laswell in the past getting called in to look over some Intel. You owe Kate a favor so you couldn't really say no, she wasn't asking. You show up on base with your stupid government clearance, crisp work shirt and bad attitude. Hours turn into days which turn into 2 weeks. 14 days you've been stuck on the stifling base surrounded by brutes. You missed the basic luxuries you took for granted. The dull government building you once dreaded walking into each day looked like Eden compared to wherever the hell you were. And the task force....they were nice enough. Capable, helpful, a little odd but you've been around weirder in your line of work. What annoyed you was how they talked down to you, so clearly underestimating you. Sure you were fairly young compared to your counterparts, maybe your government-issued phone was covered in stickers and maybe there wasn't an ounce of muscle on you but Kate called you here for a reason, that should be proof enough. But no. Your days are filled with "are you sure?", "how do you know?", "who told you that?". Some of it was the team double checking your info, nothing inherently annoying, but the rest of it was rooted in their lack of faith in your skills. What would you have to do to get them to trust you?

Cut to 5 AM on a random weekend. You find yourself awake and unable to fall back asleep, so you head to the gym to stretch out your stiff bones. Being on a military base means constantly being surrounded by a lot of people which is why you've never been to the gym before but you figured the one time it might be empty is ass-crack o'clock on a Saturday. You were right! Plenty of quiet, serene minutes pass as you loosen your tension with yoga enjoying the peace. Until, 3 of the 4 men acting as the biggest pains in your ass clamor into the room, breaking the silence. They notice you quickly being the only people in the facility and of course they make their way right to you. As you get into downward dog, you hear in a thick scottish accent. "Wow, can't say the gym sees a lot of yoga. When was the last time you had a proper workout? " Tired of being spoken down to and slightly delirious from lack of sleep, you blurt out "probably when I fucked your dad".....oops. instead of hearing the shouts of anger you expected, you hear Gaz bark out a laugh and look up to see Soap's mouth agape in indignation. "She got you good mate, my god". Happy to not be screamed at this early in the morning, you glance and the scary lieutenant only to see a small wrinkle where his mouth sits under the mask indicating a smile. "Jesus christ Lass, you've got quite the mouth on you". Oh, he made it so easy. "That's funny, your dad said that too". In return, you get more laughter from Gaz and loud groan of disgust from Soap and he finally walks away. After a clap on the shoulder from the remaining Sargent and a brief "see you later", all parties continued with their respective activities.

Later in the afternoon, when the 141, Laswell and yourself all reconvened, a large part of you was expecting to get torn a new one for disrespecting an officer but instead, as you walked into the room you heard Gaz recounting the conversation to Capt. Price. "-and she was quick with it too captain. A proper shock if I do say so myself. " The chuckle you heard in response told you it was safe to enter the room. Sort of. "I heard you were bullying my Sargent earlier." Uh oh. No sir, just some banter, that's all you swear. "I wouldn't call it bullying. That doesn't sound quite like me." You mustered just as Kate walked in. "Dont lie y/n, I'd be surprised if I didn't hear about your attitude. Now leave these children alone and start working. You're onto something here. " You send a glance to the pouting scottsman only to watch his stick his nose up at you. Children was right. "Yes Ma'am". The conversation in the gym created a positive shift between you and the team. Maybe it humanized you, or maybe they just needed a laugh. Whatever it was, the doubt they shared over your skills eased significantly, allowing you to make more progress than you had before. It wasn't long before you got the hit you've all been searching for.

[piastorys]

He Says I'm So American

Interlagos, Brazil

Part 1

Series

pairing; Oscar Piastri x Reader!Sargents sister

warnings; swearing

face claim; pdm.clara (on insta)

plot; Oscar and Logan have been friends for forever. And from what everyone else can remember, him and Logan's sister have been head over heels for each other for forever.

She'd been dragged to Brazil for the Grand Prix. Well...sort of. She wasn't going to tell her brother, Logan, she was more than happy to go explore Brazil or watch him race. She knew him knowing the latter would be very appealing, so she kept her mouth shut.

Yet, this time, the idea of experiencing the country wasn't what drew her to come. It was the thought of seeing him. Oscar Piastri.

Her relationship with Oscar was so simple yet so complex. They certainly weren't in a relationship. They had kissed a couple times but it had never gotten to anything more. Therefore, they weren't flings. Perhaps they were in some sort of situationship because they surely wasn't just friends.

liked by logansargent2, oscarpiastri and 6,039 others

yourusername Brazil is beautiful 💚🇧🇷

view all 284 comments

user29 this is so aesthetic omg comment liked by creator

user30 stop is she going to the grand prix??

⤷ user42 she's probably there to see Logan race

logansargent2 🇺🇸🇺🇸

⤷ yourusername 🫡

-

She'd shuffle backwards into the grey foldable chair, leaning back and peering around the corner of the dividing wall in the Williams garage. Still no sign of him.

She'd pull her attention back to the blue racecar in front of her and the group of engineers murmuring beside it. She'd watch one of them scuttle across the room before returning with a spanner. She'd keep an eye on them as they fussed the car with an unimpressed look on her face.

As she withdrew her eyes from the scene, she'd suddenly notice someone beside her.

"Fuck!" she'd exclaim, jumping in her skin. She'd identify her brother, grinning above. "What are you doing?" she'd ask with an incredibly annoyed tone.

Logan would reply with a tone she knew all too well, "Stood watching my engineers?" She'd frown. He would move to pull over another chair before sitting alongside her.

"You look confused." he'd point out, soon continuing with, "Any chance I can be of help?"

"Knowing you, probably not." she'd hiss back. Logan would smirk then roll his eyes. After a moment of silence, he'd turn back towards her ever so slightly.

"You know Oscar's probably looking for you." he'd say, nonchalantly. That sparked her attention. She'd turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow as in to say 'really?' He'd nod slightly before mentioning, "Yea, you know he always likes to see you around." Her cheeks would heat up then pinken slightly. She hoped Logan wouldn't notice.

"You saying I should go see him?" she'd query with some hesitation.

He'd shrug, "It might be a nice idea." She'd smile but would soon notice him avoiding eye contact. She'd bite her tongue, refraining from saying anything further before collecting her bag and standing up. Logan would latch his eyes onto her as she said a quick goodbye and left through the pitlane entry. He'd shake his head before refocusing on his car.

-

The pitlane was relatively quiet for a Saturday morning. Though she knew qualifying didn't start till late, she would have expected it to be a lot more chaotic. The amount of engineers, mechanics and strategists hovering about was actually quite limited.

She'd keep to herself as she passed a few teams before reaching walls of vibrant papaya. She'd look up at the signs above the entry. She'd smile slightly at the sight of Oscar's photo. As she headed in, slipping past the retractable barriers, she'd promptly begin to scan for Oscar. She'd make a point to smile at some of the engineers, who she hoped were familiar with her, as she headed into the back. She'd peer round a corner before feeling a hand land on the left side of her waist.

"Who are we looking for?" an Australian voice would ask gently. She'd turn her head with a small grin.

"Oh. No one special." she'd tease. He'd smirk in return, pretending to raise an eyebrow and be confused.

"Really?" he'd reply with a tone of fake surprise. She'd chuckle before wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a hug. He'd quickly return it, wrapping his hands around her waist. It didn't feel too awkward. It was nice to have him holding her again, even if it was only momentarily.

"So...how are you?" you'd smile up at him. His hands would still be resting on your waist, which you weren't complaining about at all.

He'd begin to reply, his eyes drifting to the wall behind you as he spoke, "Pretty good. Excited for quali, we've got some extra softs we have been saving so that'll be-" He'd only just notice your lovey-dovey eyes, admiring him as he spoke. You'd notice him pinken slightly.

"What?" You'd ask, oblivious to the fact that you were staring as if the world revolved around him.

-

yourusername added to their story

19h ago

⤷ bffsusername my loveeeer

⤷ yourusername hey bae 😘

⤷ friendsusername 😻😻

⤷ yourusername 😼

-

yourusername added to their story

2h ago

-

-

Authors Note: So this is pretty much a blurb, I forgot how consuming it is to figure out how to ramble on and how long these take to make... getting the hang of it tho 🤍

Next part should be here by the weekend??? (earlier if I can actually think of a detailed plot) And please ignore my spelling mistakes 🙏🏻🙏🏻

-

[gameraboy2]

"Sack Full of Trouble" Saturday Evening Post, April 14, 1956 Cover by Dick Sargent

[rathockey]

fuck it friday suck it saturday smack it sunday

i failed you guys twice so now you get three snippets :)

tagged by @rogerzsteven @panbuckley @prince-buck-diaz @alyxmastershipper @911onabc @honestlydarkprincess @transboybuckley @cowboy-buddie @heartbeatdiaz

PHEW okay lets go

1 - buddie fighting fic

Suddenly, Buck was everywhere. Trailing along behind Maddie like a duckling, into the bar, at the station, to Bobby’s weekend barbecues. Eddie caught a glimpse of him in the grocery store and promptly abandoned his cart in the aisle, fleeing to the safety of his car. Buck had as much reason not to mention their shared hobby as he did, but Eddie’s heart pounded against his ribs every time Buck opened his mouth anyway. Buck would show up and Eddie would start sweating, the hair on the back of his neck standing up, his chest tightening. He could hear the rush of his blood in his ears and he felt hot, like the room was closing in on him. He avoided Buck like the plague, because even just seeing him made him feel like he was mid-fight.

2 - santa clarita diet au

The doorbell rang. “I vote we don’t answer that.” Eddie said, still staring, wide-eyed, at the carnage that had spread across the kitchen. Blood dripped from the light over the bar, landing in a small puddle in the fruit bowl. Buck gave a weak smile, looking between Hen and Eddie. The bell rang again. “Guys we know you’re home, your cars are in the driveway.” Athena’s voice came through the door. “Shit!” Eddie moved to put his hands on the counter but pulled away when he couldn’t find a clean spot, shaking his hands and finally closing his eyes. He looked at Buck, who was covered head to toe in blood and was munching on… a liver? “Fuck. Okay, I’ll answer. Stay here.” As he left he noticed the pepper shaker – perfectly clean, not a spot of blood on it. “At least something survived.” He took a minute in the entryway, breathing deeply, before opening the door just a crack, to see Bobby and Athena on the porch, cookies in hand. “Hey Cap, Sargent.” He gave them a strained smile. “What can I do for you?”

3 - missing buck fic

Maddie slid the wine bottle back over to Eddie, who didn’t bother refilling his glass, instead drinking straight from the bottle. “What do you think he’s doing?” He asked, before laying back down on the rug. The ceiling swam, the overhead lights twinkling at him. “If I knew that, Eddie, I’d be there with him.” Maddie slurred back at him. “No, no, not like. In general. Right this second. Wednesday night.” Eddie tested how little he could raise himself to drink before he spilled wine down his front. “We used to do dinner on Wednesday night.” “Oh.” Maddie was quiet for a minute. “When we were kids Buck had football practice on Wednesdays. I’d walk him to them until I was old enough to drive him. Sometimes we’d get ice cream afterwards.” She reached out for the bottle. “Maybe he’s wondering what we’re doing.”

tagging @cowboy-buck @messyhairdiaz and anyone who hasn't been tagged yet!