#They should not be left in a room together

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Sleepy Girl - p.b.

‣ paige bueckers x gf reader!

‣ wc: 2k of smut 😛

‣‣ synopsis: waking up in the morning horny and ur girlfriend is right there tbh (ending is kinda rushed and the fic is not yet edited so please bear with me)

‣‣‣ a/n: hey guys... i know i completely ghosted this app for a good while but thank you for all the support even while i was MIA. this idea came to me at 11pm on vacation and i figured i should grind it out and make a return. i have a lot of drafts and ideas i came up with but no idea if i'll be able to write them all. in the meantime enjoy and happy holidays!

The warm sunlight spilling in to your bedroom and directly onto your face from the small gap in your curtains seemed to have it out against you.

It was one of the incredibly rare weekends of the season, where your girlfriend, Paige, didn’t have morning practice, lifting, or any PT sessions for residual pain after coming back home late from a basketball game (UConn won, obviously) and the two of you planned to make the most of it.

Having been in a relationship for almost a year now, the two of you had gotten to know each other pretty well over time. From working with the basketball team as a photographer to sharing a class with Paige, to running into each other literally everywhere every single day, metaphorically and physically, the universe seemed to have an intricate plan to bring the two of you together. And with such insistent force, who were the two of you to rebel?

The past ten months dating Paige had been a small roller coaster, the days spent together blissfully were obviously accompanied by the occasional argument of time management or messy rooms or even slight jealousy, but it was nothing the two of you couldn’t work through.

And of course, it was all accompanied by the mind blowing sex you couldn’t stop having. Bent over the kitchen counter, in the shower, in the living room, standing up, from the back, you name it.

But, there was one thing you and Paige had discussed exploring, but never gotten the chance to pursue, and it seemed like this morning was the perfect chance to test it out.

Depending on who woke up first, the two of you often liked to wake the other up with gentle kisses, roaming hands, and sweet nothings. But your synced ovulation cycles brought on a new possibility: morning head.

Although the concept of fucking your girlfriend while she was asleep seemed… well, odd to say the least, the two of you had discussed consent extremely thoroughly, and you weren’t going to sit (or lay in this instance) here and pretend that the sight of Paige laying in your bed right now wasn’t actively turning you on.

She had come to your off campus apartment immediately after her game at XL center and crashed pretty fast, only stopping to shower change into an old, oversized yet cropped off the shoulder sweatshirt of yours and a pair of boxers she left in your drawers.

Currently, she was conveniently splayed out on her back, her left arm stretched above her head raised the hem of your sweatshirt upwards, exposing the curve of her chest and the slightest glimpse of her pink nipples, which were already slightly peaked from the cold air radiating from your fan.

It didn’t take long for you to make up your mind, softly crawling over to rest in between her legs as you leaned over her sleeping figure, using your left hand to gently lift the fabric over her perky tits, exposing her creamy skin to you. You slowly peppered kisses on her boobs, not wanting to create too much stimulation that would wake her before you got to the more exciting part. Although, you weren’t sure you would have to worry about that. Paige could sleep through a hurricane if she was tired enough.

You nipped and sucked at her chest, making sure to pay special attention to her nipples before beginning your descent down her toned abs, bringing your hands to rub at her thighs simultaneously.

Paige groaned softly in her sleep, unconsciously spreading her legs out wider as your fingers danced over the waistband of her boxers.

Deciding that there was no reason to be a tease, especially with the growing ache in between your own legs, you hooked your fingers in her boxers and pulled them downwards, being extremely careful when taking them off her body fully and throwing them off into a corner of your room.

You shift lower, aligning your face with Paige’s already wet cunt as you grip her thighs and blow into her folds lightly, gently arousing her.

You start softly, small kisses and hickeys leading inwards before you finally allow your tongue to lick a long stripe from her entrance up to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her breath slightly hitch.

Even in her sleep, Paige’s body was actively reacting to the growing pleasure as you circled her clit with your tongue and hummed into her, sending shockwaves running through her body, legs spreading, mouth dropping open with low moans, and back arching.

And yet, she was still asleep. You had no interest in waking her up forcefully, it would defeat the whole purpose of morning head. So, you dutifully detached your lips from her clit, opting to replace it with your thumb as you run your fingers through the slick she had accumulated before inserting your middle finger into her, curling it upwards in the way you knew she loved, which seemed to do the trick.

Her eyes began to flutter open the moment you added in your ring finger, mouth dropping with a groan as her right hand reaches out to cup the side of your face.

"Good morning," you rasp out, your breath hot against her sensitive cunt as you smirk at the already fucked out expression on her face.

"Fuck baby, God I didn’t think it would be this good when we talked about-”

Her sleepy whines were cut off with another loud moan as you reattached your lips to her clit, pressing into her g-spot with your fingers while simultaneously sucking her clit, small laughs vibrating through her core as you watched her body shudder at your actions. Her hand immediately moved up to your scalp, placing a firm grip in your head as she secured your spot deep between her legs, anchoring you in place.

"Aw shit ma, fuck you're so good at that, right there just like that, such a good fucking girl for me, don't stop mama you're gonna make me cum," her breathless rambles were endless as she used her left hand to play with her already exposed nipples.

The added stimulation pushed her closer to the edge, and it wasn't long before her muscular thighs began to shake around your head, closing around the sides of your face as she began to grind her hips into your mouth, chasing every second of her orgasm as her mouth hung open with cries.

She eventually let up after you finished licking her clean, even making a show of pulling your fingers out of her and sucking her juices off of them. Her gaze darkens as she pulls you up and over her body once again, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

She nips at your bottom lip before pulling away, feigning annoyance in her tone. "As much as I loved the little stunt you pulled just now, shit pissed me off too. Brought this up in the first place cause I wanted to surprise you."

"Actin' like it's that big of a deal P, you can just do it a different morning," you teased, hand running up and down her side.

"Mm, whatever. All I care about right now is gettin' you right ma," she mumbles against your lips, reconnecting your lips as she slips her tongue into your mouth, grabbing your ass and rolling your hips into her at the same time.

"Nuh uh, it's your day to pillow princess. Lemme spoil you a little bit. You're still tired and sore from your game yeah? Besides, I have a better idea," you insisted, rising up and straddling her waist.

You shoved your sweater off her body before Paige's large hands pulled your grey tank top up and over your head, tossing it somewhere either of you couldn't be bothered to check. Her hand pressed into your mid back, forcing you to arch over her, conveniently placing your perky tits right over her mouth.

Her teeth scraped against your stiff peaks as her other hand, which had quickly returned to its place resting on your ass, began rocking your hips back and forth over her abs, drawing out deep sighs of pleasure from the multiple sources of friction and stimulation.

"Fuck Paige," you whined out, "why you gotta make it so hard for me to take care of you sometimes," you half-heartedly reprimanded, pinching her nipple roughly as you tore yourself away from her, shimmying your basically non-existent thong off as you resettled yourself in between her legs.

"Crawl up to the headboard," you demanded, raising your eyebrow at her inquisitive expression.

"Please," you added in with a soft pout, satisfied when she complied with your request. You eagerly followed her body, stationing your hands on her shoulders as you draped your right leg over her left, maneuvering her right in order to rest over your own left before gently lowering yourself down, hissing the moment your cores met.

You rolled your hips forward tentatively, moving your left hand down to Paige's right thigh while you sank forward, circling your other arm around her neck as you moaned against her lips.

The kiss was a needy, open mouthed mess of saliva and moans as you continued to roll your hips into Paige's with the help of her guiding hands, shocks of pleasure licking your spine every time your clits aligned.

As you approached closer to your orgasm, your head tipped back, mouth hung open with desperate, borderline pornographic whines constantly spilling out, impairing your ability to kiss Paige back. Though, she would never complain and simply kept her mouth busy by sucking hickeys along your neck and chest, whispering filthy words of encouragement into your skin.

"My girl's such a slut for me, huh? Riding me so good, pussy so wet she's dripping all over me, 's basically crying for me ma. You like that?"

Her gravely voice added to the fuzzy feeling that had taken over your brain, driven only by the tight coil threatening to snap any second in your belly. From the feeling of yours and Paige's warm slickness coating your entire cunt, to the deep throbbing you clit was experiencing.

You moved your left hand from Paige's thigh up to the headboard, using it to grind down harder against Paige's center, and the pressure on your clits had moans ringing out from both of you.

"God, Paige. So close baby, fuck I'm so close," you whined near incoherently, eyes screwed shut from the way your entire body was on fire, on the edge of immense pleasure.

She moved her mouth to the sweet spot behind your ear, nipping at the skin as she her fingers deftly began tweaking your nipples. "Cum for baby, give it to me. Please need it so bad."

You cry out as a freight train of an orgasm hits you, Paige's words and hands sending you over the edge, and the sight of you coming undone, not to mention the sounds you were letting out, left Paige no choice but to follow your lead.

Your body shuddered against hers, the pleasure slowly washing over you, leaving you breathless and extremely sensitive. You untangled your legs from Paige, collapsing on the bed next to her and pulling her down with you.

You kissed her sweetly, intimately, a far cry from the sex you were just having.

"I love you so much you know that?" You muttered against Paige's lips, cracking your eyes open to see the lazy smile set on her face.

"I love you too, even though I'm pissed you stole my surprise," she whispered defiantly.

"What you don't think those two orgasms made up for it? We can go for round two if you really insist," you smirked, knowing that there was no way your body could handle another orgasm immediately.

Before she can even answer, your stomach growled loudly, inciting loud laughter from both of you.

"How about we take care of that first yeah? We can go for round two in the shower after breakfast," she responded slyly, pulling you up and out of bed with her to get dressed and have breakfast together. To you, nothing in the world could beat mornings like these with Paige.

[jjkbambi]

the morning after luigi mangione x reader (18+)

summary!!! part two of is it new years yet because you do not get back together just cuz he has good dick OMG 🖕🖕🖕🖕😒 he also has a great personality and loves eating pussy

warnings: smut, kinda angsty, he’s manipulative but honestly he’s such a nice guy, you should really give him a second chance

^ not edited let’s alll just practice gratitude 🙏

seven days, thirteen hours, and nine minutes and thirty six seconds.

that’s how long it had been since luigi had seen you. not that he’d been counting, he was truly trying to be normal about the distance this time around.

he replays the morning after on a loop, searching for the slightest hint he’d done something wrong to no avail. as a matter of fact, your quiet body was beside him until deep into the afternoon, nothing but soft snores exchanged between the two of you. he wakes before you, kissing your forehead before taking his leave. his frat brothers whistle at him as he enters the wretchedly messy house, throwing him a water.

“happy new year, big guy,” one of them, hasan, greets. “did’ya spend your night thinking about new goals or scoring the same one?”

luigi rolls his eyes. “fuck off.”

another brother chimes in, bright-eyed. “when are we meeting her?”

“in your dreams.”

he had no intention of sharing you in any way; the thought of anyone else even looking at you irritated him. but starting the new year off by your side was far too great a fate to be stoic about. he grabs a plate of what’s left of their shitty communal breakfast (jar salsa from the night before, scrambled eggs, and two pieces of mostly burnt toast) and brings it into your room.

“y/n,” he calls out while entering. the door to the bathroom is now closed, and he sees your shadow shuffling around the room.

hesitant, the door creaks open. youre back in your black minidress, holding onto your heels. “hey, pretty.”

“hi,” you say tightly, the mistakes and soreness from the night before lingering in your mind. you’ve just wiped away the tears still streaked on your face, yet your ex-boyfriend hardly looks hungover.

“dressed up just for me?” he jokes, kissing your cheek. he offers you the plate of food but you shake your head.

“lacy’s waiting for me. i’ve got to go.”

“stay,” he says, his voice honey-sweet, like the boyfriend you knew months ago. it makes you feel sick, the familiarity of it all suffocating you. the room feels too small.

you push away from him. “i have to go.”

“baby,” he drops everything he’s holding to grab you again. “what’s wrong? is everything alright?”

he always blows your mind with his audacity. “no, everything’s not alright, luigi,” you spit back. “we shouldn’t have—none of that should’ve happened.”

“what do you mean?”

“luigi,” you sigh. “we’re over, alright? it’s done.”

“y/n—”

“i mean it,” you raise your voice so slightly, but still it breaks. “you cheated on me, then pulled all this shit, i can’t do it anymore.”

“you can’t do it anymore? are you serious?”

“yes!”

“you ignored me for weeks then showed up at my fucking party, dressed like that,” his voice was low, but angry. brows furrowed, he doesn’t lose his grip on you. it scares you. “you can’t tell me you weren’t bartering for my attention.”

“i wasn’t.”

his jaw sets. “then who’s?”

“oh my god. nobody’s!”

“don’t fucking lie to me—”

“lu, stop, seriously.” your voice trembles this time, and you both notice it. he drops your hand.

“i didnt mean to hurt you,” he says, soft at your upset. “i swear—i dont remember cheating on you. i’m not gonna mess up like that again, i promise.”

he leans in to kiss you, to seal the pledge with his gentle touch, but you pull back. “it doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean to hurt me—you did. you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.“

his big brown eyes bear into yours and he swears, “i can make it up to you.”

“luigi,” you hadn’t even realized you’d been crying until he brings his hands up to wipe your tears away. “i just don’t think this is a good idea, i’m sorry.”

“come on,” he says, frowning. “i love you. only you.” his lean-in to kiss you is successful this time. the kiss feels much better��softer—than last night’s. he’s gentle with his desperation, intent on making you stay. “‘m sorry, okay?” he says between kisses. “let me make it better.”

“no, luigi, we shouldn’t—”

“you’ve got to hear me out, y/n,” he takes your lips again. his hot kisses move down your neck—and it all feels so different this time around. even the air in the room feels lighter. his voice is against your ear when he swears, “i’ll be good to you, sweetheart, i promise.”

saying no to him is near impossible—it’s why you shut yourself off of him for weeks, avoiding places he frequented, deactivating your social media, ignoring his constant stream of messages and calls. now, he has you, and within minutes, you’re pressed against the wall again.

“feels good?” he teases, grinding his hard-on into your core. you melt underneath him, you can’t help it, he’s so warm.

“lu,” you whimper. you’re still sensitive from how selfishly he took you the night before, you can’t help but react to his touch so quickly. it felt so raw.

“wait—” he never does. his hands are on your hips again, moving your body against his.

“just let me take care of you,” he says, trailing kisses down your neck again. this time, he was sure to leave marks.

he keeps the dress on this time. he places you back onto the bed, and as you gather the courage to take him in again, he moves beneath you.

“knew i recognized these,” his voice hot against the fabric of your panties.

you told yourself the lacy black panties were just meant to match the dress, but it all seemed so intentional—the party crash, the kitchen drive-by, the fact that you were wearing his valentines day gift. whether this was a manifestation of your greatest fear or desire, you couldn’t tell.

he kisses your thighs, then runs his tongue against your core through the fabric of your panties before ceremoniously ripping them off. he kisses and sucks at your wetness. you tremble at the suddenness of his movement. his big nose is so prominent in your pussy, you can’t help but grind yourself against his perfect face and whine as he drinks you in.

“you’re such a fucking mess,” luigi says, smiling into your warmth. his unshaven stubble tickles your sensitive cunt, sending a tremor through you. “so wet, i’ve barely even touched you.”

“i can’t help it,” you whimper.

he grabs your ass, pulling you closer to his relentless mouth. it’s ridiculous how good he feels. he’s completely shameless in his endeavor to ruin you.

“look at me,” luigi orders, so you do. you look down to see him, finding that he’s already gotten to touching himself. his hard length at the edge of the bed, furiously red, as he strokes himself. “i think about you everyday,” he admits in between licking at your core. “i missed how this pretty pussy tasted. i missed having you like this. holding you down so you can’t squirm away. missed hearing you beg.”

you’re almost there, fidgeting underneath his hands. “luigi, please. it’s too much.”

“you’ve taken worse,” he growls into you.

he feels like he’s on fire. one hand moves up and down along his cock fervently, while the other lends itself to fingering your frothing pussy. you mewl at the sudden entry, back arching.

“luigi,” you whine. “please.”

“i’m trying to do a nice thing for you, y/n,” he hums, “but you want me to be selfish, hm? want me to take you?”

“yes,” you say, breathless.

“fuckin’ slut,” he grumbles, pulling himself away from your wet cunt. he grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “what d’you want from me, huh?”

“want you.”

“course you do,” luigi says, surprising you with hard slaps against your sensitive clit. you cry out at the sensation, the unfamiliar storm of bliss and torment, and he chuckles darkly. “you fuckin’ belong to me.”

he grabs your chin and forces you into another kiss, your wetness now staining you both. he lifts your leg up and slides himself back into your wet warmth. “you’re dripping,” he praises as he pounds into you. the exhilarating pain sets your senses alight, you grip onto him tighter without even realizing. “all for me, yeah?”

“all for you.” you nod. this is not how you expected this conversation to go. you writhe at how big he is, how hard.

“you can take it,” he grunts. he’s not fast, this time—his thrusts are agonizingly slow and tortuously deep—just as you think it’s all entirely too much, one hand grips your clothed tit, the other lifts to cradle your chin, forcing your lips to part open. he spits into your mouth. “swallow,” he orders.

you do.

“good girl,” he places sloppy, wet kisses along your jaw, your neck, then goes to bite at your tits. “so fuckin’ pretty.”

“i thought about you too,” you admit sheepishly, out of your mind. he looks up at you, raises his eyebrows, urging you to go on. “i missed you.”

to your surprise, he scoffs. “fuckin’ bitch.” he suddenly loses the interest in being gentle with you, returning to your body rough and angry. his fingers massage against your clit, unraveling you. “you’re just as crazy as i am, you know that? running around town like you don’t belong to me. like you don’t touch yourself late at night thinking about this cock. wishing those fingers were half as good as mine, huh? fuckin’ idiot.”

“luigi,” you cry out. was this him being nice?

“be a good girl f’me,” he grunts. he feels you pulse around his cock and drives into you with even more force. “cum all over me, baby. have my fuckin’ kids.”

“luigi,” you mewl again, desperate for release.

“come on, pretty, show me how good it feels.”

his lips return to yours, hot wet and desperate, as he cums inside of you. you’re a complete mess—squirming and whimpering as you unravel onto his cock, he catches your moans with kisses and leaves you shaking underneath him.

“good girl,” he hums, kissing your forehead.

for a fleeting moment, the two of you are perfect. everything feels just right. he slips into the spot beside you, the disarray of tangled sheets forgotten as he pulls you into his warmth. you sink into the nape of his neck, and though there are no more words spoken, the air is thick with an undeniable love, quiet but all encompassing.

but when he stirs awake, reaching for you, all that lingers is the soft, fading smell of your spring perfume.

send requests ! <3

[beloveds-embrace]

your omega simon idea makes me both soft for him and salivating at the thought of protecting such a big strong guy, urgh i love it. Giving Si and you a big forehead smooch, i love your brain😩 Very much hoping that your brain keeps thinking about omega simon so we get to feast on this damn good food too

Omega simon does unbelievable things to me 😩 and I am giving you a very big and loud smooch back!! <3 have this little Drabble that i wrote fast (so pls excuse any rushedness and mistakes 😔)

The hangar was buzzing with activity as they finally touched down on base, but neither you nor Ghost paid it any mind. The moment your boots hit the concrete, exhaustion weighed heavier than any gear strapped to your bodies. Without a word, without even glancing back at the others, the two of you slipped away like smoke. Silent, deliberate, and entirely focused on one thing: rest.

Price, Gaz, and Soap barely had tme to finish unloading before they noticed your absence.

“Where the hell did they go?” Soap asked, looking around like the two of you might reappear from thin air.

Price’s eyes scanned the hangar for a sharp second before he sighed, already putting the pieces together. If anything, he’d expected this. “Probably holed up somewhere to rest.”

Gaz groaned, though he couldn’t hide the fond smile that cracks on his face. “They could’ve at least told us first.”

“They didn’t have to,” Price said knowingly. “You saw the state they were in.”

And they had. Weeks of back-to-back missions, constant stress, and frayed nerves had worn everyone thin, but you and Simon had carried it differently. Instincts that screamed for comfort, security, and stability, but the battlefield offered none of that. Now that you were finally safe, it made perfect sense for the two of you to disappear and soothe those raw, overworked instincts.

It took them almost an hour to track you down, and when they did, it was clear why you hadn’t wanted to be found.

The room was dimly lit, smelling faintly of detergent and something softer- vanilla and Simon’s deeper cedarwood scent. Blankets, pillows, and their clothes had been piled high, creating a warm cocoon against the outside world. You were curled up in the center, tucked against Simon’s broad chest, your breathing slow and steady for the first time in days. He had one arm wrapped protectively around you, his mask discarded, revealing a rare look of peace on his face- what part of it that wasn’t buried in your hair.

Soap hesitated at the door, lowering his voice instinctively. “They look…”

“Content.” Gaz supplied, leaning against the frame.

Price crossed his arms, face softening the longer he looked at the two of you. “They needed this.”

It was rare to see Ghost so unguarded, but here- with you- he looked safe, grounded in a way the others knew only you could manage. Your hand was fisted lightly in the fabric of his shirt, and his nose rested in your hair like he’d been breathing you in for hours.

“They’ll come out when they’re ready, let’s leave them to rest.” Price murmured, already turning to shepherd the others away.

“Should we leave food out for them?”

Gaz snorted, rolling his eyes, and gave Soap an amused look. “They’re not strays, Johnny.”

But the idea stuck, and before long, supplies were quietly left at the edge of the nest- water bottles, snacks, and extra blankets. None of them entered the space, knowing better than to disturb their omegas when they were finally at rest.

And when the two of you eventually emerged, bleary-eyed and loose-limbed, the pack was waiting- ready to gather you both into steady, grounding embraces. No words were needed. Just their presence was enough to reassure you that everything was okay.

You and Simon had each other, but you also had them. And in a world that demanded too much, that was enough.

[bloatedandalone04]

Under the Tree

➪the one where you and tyler celebrate christmas together, and he has a surprise waiting for you underneath the tree.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of smut, nothing too wild (yes, i write fluff too).

Word Count: 2.8k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Merry Christmas !

The department store was crowded, but what store wasn’t during this time of year? Christmas was next month, after all.

You were currently in the ornament aisle of the store, practically shoulder to shoulder with Tyler and an elderly woman that was standing to the left side of you. While you felt a little bad for dragging your boyfriend here after he just finished a rather grueling chase yesterday and likely still needed to rest, Tyler was still a pretty festive guy. And the chances of there being another tornado for the next few months was unlikely, so he would have lots of time to rest. 

And he didn’t even look annoyed or irritated at the moment, even though you had been in this aisle for about fifteen minutes now. His arm was slung around your waist as your eyes flickered all over the various boxes of Christmas tree ornaments, an active debate going on in your head as you thought about what theme you wanted to go for this year. 

This would be yours and Tyler’s first Christmas together, alone that is. You’d been together for almost three years, and the first year you had spent the holiday with your own families, and the second year with all of them together, but this year it was just you and him. Tyler’s family is going on a vacation this year, so you and he spent last weekend with them, and your mom was taking care of your dad since he just had surgery on his leg, so it wasn’t really a good year for them. Though you were planning on stopping by a few days after Christmas. 

With that being said, this was the first year it was just you and Tyler, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t so excited to spend the holiday with him. 

“No rush, babe, but is there a reason we’ve been standin’ here for over ten minutes?” he asked after watching you glance between two different boxes over and over again. “Again, no rush at all, but…someone’s grandma is looking a little pissed off.”

When you looked to your left and saw the elderly woman glaring at you, your hand came up to cover your mouth as you tried to hold in a laugh. “She has a valid reason,” you said, leaning more into your boyfriend’s side to give her a little more room. “This time of year is…stressful for everyone.” 

Tyler hummed in agreement, wrapping his arm tighter around you as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “True…but I don’t think pickin’ out what to put on the tree is very stressful,” he teases, “Or at least it’s not supposed to be.”

You laughed quietly, watching as the woman grabbed a box of all red ornaments before briskly leaving the aisle. “I don’t know which ones I want,” you whined, pulling him back to where you were before. “I don’t know if we should do red and green, or white and gold, or white, gold and red.” 

Tyler laughed under his breath as he looked at the multitude of different colored ornaments on the shelves. “Well, we have a pretty big tree, why don’t we do a mix of all of them? And maybe we can add some random ones here and there. We still have the ornament my mom got us last year to put on too, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled, looking back at him. His mom had gotten you a cute ornament that said both yours and Tyler’s names on the brims of a Santa hat that two penguins were wearing, and you were kind of obsessed with it. “That’s actually a really cute idea. You’re better at this than I thought you’d be.”

Tyler smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist again as he pulled you back against his side. “I love Christmas, you know that,” 

You nodded, wrapping both your arms around his middle as you leaned your head against his chest. “I know you do,” you hummed, “But most guys don’t.”

“Baby, I think we’ve long since discovered that I’m not like most guys,” he grunted, reaching for both the big boxes of the red and green ornaments, leaving you to grab the smaller box that held both white and gold ones. 

When he gestured for you to finally leave the aisle, you rolled your eyes. “Must you always show off?” you huffed, grabbing the smaller box before following after him. 

“In front of you?” he grinned, “Always.”

-

“Pick a movie already,” you groaned, worried that the candy cane hot chocolate you had made for both you and Tyler would be stone cold by the time a film was even chosen. The living room was only lit up by the recently put up Christmas tree in the corner, an array of ornaments scattered on its branches, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think it was one of the cutest and prettiest things you had ever seen. 

Tyler turned around from where he was hunched over the fake fireplace. The remote had been lost a long time ago, so whenever either of you wanted it on, you had to get onto your knees and hit the button manually. 

The look he gave you had you cackling as you draped the big throw blanket your mom got you a few years ago across your body. “I did,” he said, “Two of them, actually. You said no to both.”

You laughed and sipped on your drink. “The Grinch is so overrated, and Home Alone is so overplayed,” you mumbled, placing your whole palm around your mug to warm your hand. “We watch it, like, five times every December.”

Tyler, once he turned the fireplace on, stood up and towered over you, his hands on his hips. His red and green Christmas pyjama pants he was wearing made your smile grow, even though you were wearing matching ones, complete with Max from The Grinch scattered all over the fabric. “Because it’s a classic,” he defended his choice of movie as he moved towards the couch. “And it’s good. Your choice was awful, but you don’t hear me complainin’, do you?”

His words weren’t harsh at all but rather teasing as he grabbed his own mug before sitting next to you and leaning over to kiss your cheek when you draped the blanket over him as well. “Love Actually is good,” you muttered, bringing the rim of your mug up to your mouth again. 

Tyler laughed, reaching for the remote with his free hand. “Babe, it’s barely a Christmas movie,”

“Okay, you have not seen it enough times to be able to say that,” you said and Tyler grunted. 

“Alright, fine, it doesn’t feel like a Christmas movie,” he corrected himself as he flipped through the Holiday section on Netflix. “How about…this one?”

You looked up and saw that he was hovering over Four Christmases, and your lips curved into a smile. “Okay,” you answered, cuddling close to him while being careful not to spill your drink. 

When the opening scene started, Tyler turned his head and nuzzled his nose against your temple. “We should do that,” he murmured, draping his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to his side. 

“What?” you laughed, your eyes still on the TV but your focus was almost entirely on your boyfriend. 

“You know…roleplay,” he said, and your face heated up as you looked over at him, seeing the mischievous look in his eyes you were very used to by now. 

“Roleplay?” you echoed, tilting your head back to get a better look at his handsome face. “You wanna call me a bitch, hmm? And tell me you hate my earrings?”

Tyler’s face heated up now and he quickly shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he rushed out, but you just laughed and draped your legs over his under the blanket. “I just meant, like…you know, pretendin’ we don’t know each other, only for me to kiss you in front of a room full of people like it’s the only thing I want to do for the rest of my life.”

You bit your lip and pressed your cheek against his shoulder, running the tip of your nose along his jawline. “You already do that,” you murmured, “Kiss me in a room full of people. What would be different?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before pressing his own against it. “We could make it like our first date all over again. I could act all cool and confident, when really I was already fallin’ head over heels for you, and you could pretend you aren’t completely obsessed with me already and just dyin’ to hear more of my storm chasin’ stories.”

You scoffed, pulling back to lightly slap his shoulder. “You’re so full of it,” you shook your head before moving closer to him again. “It wasn’t your stories that drew me in, it was you. Just you.”

Tyler smiled down at you before leaning in and pressing a firm kiss to your mouth. “Everythin’ about you drew me in,” he mumbled against your lips. “Your eyes, your laugh, your smile…and those tight jeans you were wearing definitely did somethin’ to me.”

You rolled your eyes and placed your hand flat against his face, pushing him away from you. “Once again, you’re full of it,” you muttered, quickly pulling your hand away from him when his tongue poked out and licked your palm. “And disgusting.”

Tyler laughed, and the sound made your mouth curve upwards in a smile as you turned your gaze back to the movie. “You love it,”

-

Christmas Day always seemed to creep up on you ever since you became an adult, unlike how it seemed to take forever to arrive when you were a kid. 

With that being said, it was just as exciting as it was when you were younger. Back then, you, like any other kid, loved receiving gifts, but now that you are older, you love giving them out. 

Okay, maybe you go a bit overboard every year, but your mom could always use another mug, and your dad could always upgrade his housecoat. And Tyler could always stock up on that piney, sexy cologne you fucking love. 

When you woke up on the 25th of December, alone and cold in your bed, you groaned and grabbed Tyler’s Tor-nae-do hoodie and shrugged it over your shoulders, the grey fabric matching well with your Grinch pajamas. 

You left the room and walked down the stairs, hearing the faint sound of Christmas music playing from the living room. When you entered the room, you found Tyler sitting on the couch, his laptop placed on his thighs and his legs kicked up on the coffee table as he scrolled through the comments on an old upload. 

“Working on Christmas?” you asked with a tired grin, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorway. 

Tyler looked over at you, his handsome grin forming on his lips as he closed his laptop, instantly giving you his full attention like he always did. “Someone has to,” he teased, setting it aside as he leaned back on the couch. “Kinda hard to make money when you’re in bed and sleepin’ all morning.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, pushing off the wall when he reached his hand out to you. “It’s only ten thirty,” you mumbled, crawling onto his lap as you snuggled up on his chest. “And yeah, yeah…you’re the breadwinner out of the two of us. I know that.” 

Tyler hummed as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around your body as he held you against him. “That’s not true and you know it,” he murmured, dipping his head down to nuzzle his face against your neck. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

You smiled, closing your eyes as you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. “Merry Christmas, Ty,” you said back, sitting up on his lap and placing your hands on his chest. “What do you say? I make breakfast, we sit for a bit, then open presents? Maybe after we can have a nap too…you kept me up late last night.”

Tyler smirked, shrugging a bit as he ran his hands up your back, under his hoodie. “What can I say? I know how to celebrate a holiday,” he grinned, then sat up a bit. “How ‘bout presents first? I got you somethin’ I’ve been dying to see you open for weeks now.”

One of your brows raised as you let out a soft hum. “Weeks, huh?” you echoed, a small smile forming on your lips. “Alright, we’ll do presents first.”

“Okay,” he immediately agreed, his hands giving your hips a gentle squeeze. “Open mine first. It’s right there, under the tree.” he nodded towards the corner of the living room, the Christmas tree lit up in a soft, warm tone, and under it was a small, surprisingly well wrapped box. 

“Okay,” you said, getting off his lap to retrieve the box, and one of the gifts you got him. You walked back over to him and sat down on the couch beside him, rather than on top of him again, and placed your gift for him on his lap. “Remember, we said we weren’t going to go overboard since it’s just us this year, right? You remember that?”

Tyler grinned and draped his arm around your shoulders. “Babe, just open it,” he laughed, his other hand wrapping around one of your thighs to pull you closer to him.

You laughed quietly too, draping your legs over his lap. As your fingers began ripping at the wrapping paper, you noticed that Tyler began to shift beside you, but he only gestured for you to keep going when you looked over at him. “Are you okay?” you asked, glancing up at him again as you pulled off the rest of the paper. “You’re acting kinda weird or anxious or-”

You cut yourself off when you opened a small box, and you quickly looked down to see what was in it. When your eyes caught sight of the princess cut ring that was sitting on the velvet cushion inside the box, your throat closed up as a soft gasp left your mouth. 

“Ty,” you murmured, your eyes burning a bit with unshed tears as you tore your gaze off the stunning ring to look over at him. 

Tyler looked less nervous now as his fingers ran up and down your thigh, his eyes wide but his face relaxed. “Baby,” he said back, reaching up to caress your jaw in his hand. “I love you. More than anythin’ in the world. You know that.”

You nodded quickly, your hands shaking a bit as you looked between him and the ring in the box. “Yeah,” you whispered, gripping his arm tightly with the hand that wasn’t holding the box. 

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Tyler rasped, taking the ring out of the box as he held it between his fingers. “I want to marry you, babe. I want everythin’ with you, forever.”

Your cheeks heated up in a blush, your eyes filling with tears as you moved closer to him. “I want that too,” 

“Yeah?” Tyler grinned, taking your left hand in his as he held the ring up to you. “Will you marry me, baby?”

You were nodding before he even finished asking the question, your arms thrown around his shoulders as you pressed a deep kiss to his mouth. “Tyler, oh my God,” you mumbled against his mouth, your voice muffled by his lips. “Yes.”

Tyler laughed against your lips, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he pressed multiple kisses to your mouth. Neither of you knew how long had passed before you finally broke the kiss and pulled back so he could slide the ring onto your finger, and already you were absolutely obsessed with it. 

“It’s so beautiful, Ty,” you said quietly as you gazed down at the new addition to your left hand. 

“Yeah? I tried findin’ the prettiest one because you’re the prettiest girl,” he smirked, running his hand up and down your spine as you snuggled up against his side. “This one will have to do.”

You scoffed and shook your head, nuzzling your face against the side of his neck. “It’s perfect,” you mumbled, kissing his shoulder. “I love it. I don’t even want you to open my gift now because you’ve given me the best one by far. I feel cheap.”

Tyler laughed, holding you tightly against his side as he looked down at the gift bag you had put on his lap. “Oh yeah, it’s gonna take you at least…I don’t know, four Christmases to catch up to me now,” he said, a proud smile on his face, and he was clearly happy with his stupid joke as he reached for the bag. “Oh, and thanks for the cologne by the way, wifey.”

[rosemariiaa]

00 ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

𐙚—pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚—rosie’s note: merry xmas my lovelies, this is my gift to you! happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚—links: rosie’s bookshelf, rewind my heart masterlist

𐙚—themes: time travel, angst (kinda)

𐙚— taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @juspeaks @sierrale8ne @bueckersbitch @pboogerswbb @lupinqs @makethemhoesmad @imaginespazzi @d3arapril @guesswhoitsn @xxloveralways14 @ashortyluvsports

enjoy!!!

The apartment is too quiet without her.

It’s been hours since Azzi left, her pink bonnet stuffed into her purse, the overnight bag she’d packed slung over her shoulder. She didn’t look back when she closed the door behind her, and Paige didn’t stop her.

Not this time.

Paige leans against the kitchen counter, staring blankly at the half-empty bottle of water in her hand. The sun is setting, painting the skyline outside her window in muted oranges and purples, but she barely notices. The air in the apartment feels heavy, suffocating in its silence.

Her knee aches from today’s workout—a reminder of the game she has in two days. She should be focused on that, but her mind is miles away.

Back to Azzi. Back to their argument.

The fight wasn’t about anything major. None of them ever were. But it was loud. Ugly. The kind of argument that feels like it’s about everything and nothing all at once.

“You don’t even try anymore, Paige!” Azzi’s voice had cracked with frustration, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You’re so scared of—of whatever this is that you’re ruining it before it can even work.”

“And you’re not?” Paige had snapped back, her voice sharp and cutting. “You’re the one with one foot out the door every time things get hard.”

Azzi had gone quiet then, her lips pressing into a thin line. It was the kind of silence that made Paige want to take it all back, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Instead, Azzi had turned on her heel, grabbed her things, and left.

That was three hours ago.

Paige swallows hard, setting the water bottle down on the counter. Her phone buzzes on the island, but she doesn’t check it. It’s probably her coach or a teammate, someone reminding her of the life she’s supposed to be living.

But all Paige can think about is the pink bonnet Azzi left behind. The one she’s worn every night since they were 19 and sharing cramped student apartments in Connecticut.

How did it get to this? How did they go from late-night talks in Paige’s dorm room to this endless cycle of arguing and leaving?

Paige sighs, running a hand through her hair as she drags herself toward the bedroom. Maybe Azzi just needs time to cool off. Maybe this is one of those fights they’ll laugh about later, the way they always used to.

She doesn’t even bother turning on the lights as she collapses onto the bed, burying her face in the purple blanket Azzi gave her their first Christmas together.

It still smells like her.

Paige closes her eyes, exhaustion pulling her under.

—

When I wake up, something feels… wrong.

It’s the light that hits my face first, warm and bright and all wrong for my LA apartment. Then it’s the smell—not Azzi’s perfume or the lavender candle that I keep on the dresser, but something familiar and distant.

My eyes blink open, and for a moment, I can’t seem to breathe.

This can’t be happening.

I blink again, but nothing changes. I stare at the spinning bookshelf, the neatly stacked trophies, the PS5 humming quietly on the dresser—it’s all there. The TV mounted on the wall shows the home screen I haven’t seen in years. My purple sheets are a little wrinkled, the fluffy blanket half spilling onto the floor, but it still smells like fabric softener and familiarity.

My eyes catch on the vanity across the room, where Azzi’s pink bonnet and my Bible sit side by side. My heart clenches. She always left them there.

My fingers dig into the mattress as I sit up, my knee protesting the sudden movement. This isn’t my apartment in Los Angeles. This isn’t my life now. This is… this is my senior-year room at UConn.

The student apartment. The one I shared with Azzi, Nika, Jana, and Ice.

I force myself to stand, even as my chest feels like it’s caving in. The layout of the room is burned into my memory, down to the picture frame sitting on Azzi’s side of the vanity. The photo is of the two of us, taken back when things between us were still too undefined to explain.

The blanket she likes to steal is still folded at the foot of my bed. Her favorite UConn hoodie is draped over my beanbag. A pair of her sneakers sits in the corner, her name written in small letters on the tongue.

Her stuff is scattered everywhere, like it always was, because we spent most nights sleeping in my room instead of hers.

I look around, desperate for an answer. For anything that will tell me this isn’t real.

But it is.

It’s all exactly as I left it in 2025. My senior year.

The year I ruined everything.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it like it might give me an explanation.

October 12, 2024.

I nearly drop it. My hands are shaking as I swipe to my texts.

azzi: workout in 20 paigey, be ready when i get there

nika: tell Ice if she clogs the sink again with her hair, I’m moving out.

My breath catches in my throat. I read the texts again, trying to make sense of it, but they feel too familiar. Too real. My hands drop to my sides as the phone slips from my grasp.

This doesn’t make sense.

I glance toward Azzi’s bed. I was always glad my room was the only one with a spare bed, her bed was perfectly made like always. Her per led lights cast a soft glow over the walls, and the scent of her body lotion lingers in the air.

Memories rush back like a punch to the gut. The year we tried to be “just friends.” The year we failed. The year I let fear ruin everything we had.

I drag myself into the kitchen, needing space to think. The student apartment is quiet, but it feels like a time capsule. Jana’s mismatched sneakers are by the door. Nika’s pink Hydro Flask sits on the counter. Ice’s protein shake blender is still sitting in the sink.

Everything is exactly as it was.

But why? Why now? Why this year?

I stare out the window, the view of campus just as I remember. The ache in my knee pulls me back to reality. I know this feeling. I know this time.

I press my hands against the counter, gripping it tightly as the realization sinks in.

I’m back. Back in my senior year. Back in the year Azzi and I were finally supposed to get it right.

And I have no idea why.

My phone buzzes again on the counter.

azzi: coffee or no? answer my texts don’t be weird

Her name on my screen feels like a lifeline and a weight all at once.

This was the year it all fell apart.

But maybe, just maybe, it’s also the year I can put it back together.

———

𐙚— rosie’s note: okay psa, the chapters for this series should take too long to post, as i mentioned before i really do like this plot and it’s good for me to work with so you should’ve have to wait too long :) also hope u enjoyed muah!

[tojisth3rdwife]

⚠️nsfw/mdni⚠️

You knew Toji was crazy when he sucked your clit hard as fuck the second he felt you cumming. Like hard enough to hurt a little and his fingers would keep pumping your pulsing walls while he hummed encouragingly.

Your first mistake was telling him early on in the relationship that no one had ever made you cum from head with clitoral stimulation alone and the way he scoffed at you in disbelief should have been your first clue.

“Its true. No one’s ever done it. I mean theyve come close but..” you trail off and Toji scoffs again.

“Coming close doesnt mean shit if they didnt do it. I know I can though. Its not hard...” he chuffed and you perked an incredulous brow at him.

“Oh you can huh?” You smirk, ignoring the way his confidence was making you press your thighs together.

“Mmhm..” Toji just hummed, similarly to how he was humminh against your pussy right now.

The irony.

Sloppy wet squelching sounds filled the room as Toji’s thick fingers milked your spasming walls. His lips were suctioned on your clit and his free hand laid flat against your tummy. His strong ass was able to keep you from running with just that one hand.

“Toji..T-toji..ah!” You whined and writhed pitifully under his control. He was overstimulating you to tears and he knew exactly what he was doing.

The after shocks of your orgasm were fading and a fresh climax was cresting just from Toji sucking and flicking his tongue over your swollen clit. It only took a few more seconds for you to cum again, its intensity snatching your breath from you.

Your hands fisted the sheets so hard that a corner pulled up from the corner of the mattress and Toji growled against you when you tried running from him again.

“Uh uhn baby..” his deep rasp vibrated against your cunt.

“Im nowhere near being done. Who was it that said they couldnt cum from head?” Toji teased, now stroking your walls slowly but with just enough pressure to make your teary eyes flutter.

You could just barely see the smuggness on Toji’s wet face when you looked down at him.

“I…oh fuck…I did..” you find the sense to respond as Toji’s slick tongue licked a slow and flat over your tingling clit. He hummed in agreement before slurping it obnoxiously loud between his lips, pulling a pitiful moan for mercy from you.

“..and what did I just do?” Toji pulls off of your clit to ask, looking even more smug than before. The scarred corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided grin that shined from your pussy’s juices. His hair was messy from you grabbing and pulling it and his sea-foam gaze was dark with pupils blown in ecstasy.

Fuck he looked so good, even when he was a little condescending.

When you didn’t respond immediately, Toji’s fingers start fucking into you deeper and pick up their pace, rubbing you g-spot with intention. You were already close to your third orgasm within minutes of the first and second, shaking and breathlessly keening Toji’s name.

“Yep..tell your neighbors who just made you cum, baby. I want them to hear it..”

The lewdness of how sloppy and wet your pussy was sounding right now had your face warming with a blush only Toji could see and it spurned him on to finger fuck you even harder. Your back arched up from the mattress when your pussy finally gushed all over Toji’s fingers, your cum splashing everywhere and soaking the sheets.

Toji’s mean chuckles melded into muffled groans of satisfaction as he stuck his tongue inside of you above his fingers, which were still pulling st your trigger and milking you for all that you had to give him.

“Mmmhmmm..” he whimpered sexily as he drank you in, gulping and lapping at your fluttering pussy until all of the tension left your body.

Your legs go limp and Toji finally withdraws his fingers. He gives you a few more slow licks from hole to clit for good measure before pulling his face away from your sex, sitting back on his knees. He admired the way you looked, entire body glistening from sweat, face relaxed and eyes glazed. Your legs still spread and wet pussy still calling to him. His dick was as solid as a brick right now and the hand covered in your cum was already dipping under his waistband and stroking it.

He used his ‘clean’ hand rub up your thigh tenderly, getting your attention. You were both still panting as if you’d just ran a mile and Toji hadn’t even fucked you yet. You were starting to understand now that Toji wasn’t a man that just talked a big game. He could back it up too.

“Hey…Told you..” he utters as if he could read your mind, licking his lips and smiling down at you as if he’d just beat you at some game.

And highkey, he did.

Do with that what you will…

[theonottsbxtch]

GIVEN ENOUGH | LN4

an: nessa barrett's new album has been pure inspiration i swear to god, listen to given enough while reading this because LORD, i fully felt bad for this version of lando even though i wrote him

wc: 2.8k

LANDO EXHALED, HIS JAW TIGHTENING as he glanced at her from across the room. She was draped in a crimson dress that clung to her like a second skin, every inch of her perfect for the cameras that flashed relentlessly. The evening air was heavy with champagne and ego, the kind of event he loathed, but his manager had insisted. "Keep the image alive," they’d said. The golden couple, the picture of perfection. But the truth of it all lingered like poison in his throat.

She caught his gaze and smiled—small, distant, rehearsed. He knew the curve of her lips too well to be fooled. That wasn’t a smile for him. That was for the photographers. For the sponsors. For the endless charade they’d both been roped into.

Lando took a sip of his drink, amber liquid burning his throat. The taste was bitter, but not nearly as bitter as the memory of last night. Or the night before that. The endless cycle of her tears, his apologies, the shouting, the silences. She always cried so beautifully, like it was an art form, and he hated how it disarmed him every time. How it left him apologising for sins he didn’t remember committing.

Haven’t I given enough? The thought tore through him like a cold wind. He clenched the glass tighter, ignoring the laughter that rippled around the room. She always needed more—more attention, more promises, more of him. And he’d given it. Again and again, until he didn’t know what he had left.

And yet, she stood there, radiant and hollow. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to hold her or disappear entirely.

“You’re staring,” her voice came, soft yet sharp, as she stepped beside him. The closeness was suffocating, the scent of her perfume almost too much.

“Am I?” His tone was flat. Detached.

“Yes.” Her smile didn’t waver, even as her words dropped lower, meant only for him. “You should try looking at me like you actually care.”

He laughed, quiet and humourless. “Funny. I was just thinking the same about you.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, a warning, but she didn’t say anything else. She turned back to the crowd, her hand brushing his arm in a way that seemed deliberate, calculated. It was always like this—a performance. For everyone else, they were untouchable. Together. But behind closed doors, there was nothing left to save.

For a brief moment, Lando wondered if she knew how much she’d drained him, how much she’d taken. Probably not. She’d smile, shed a few tears, and take more. Because that was what she did best.

And he’d let her. Every single time.

Lando adjusted his tie, trying to loosen the invisible grip around his throat. The gala was a success, he supposed—if success was measured in hollow conversations and counterfeit smiles. The air hummed with whispers of power, of wealth, of people pretending to matter more than they did. She thrived in it. He endured it.

As she floated away to join another circle of admirers, he downed the rest of his drink. It was always like this: her holding court while he played the silent shadow. To the outside world, they were the perfect pair. To him, it felt like being dragged across broken glass.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration pulling him back to reality. He fished it out, hoping for an excuse to leave, but the screen only held a reminder of tomorrow’s schedule. Another meeting, another event, another night like this.

He sighed, setting the glass down with more force than intended. The sound drew a few glances, but he ignored them. Instead, his eyes found her again, across the room. She was laughing now, the soft, melodic sound he used to adore. Now it only made him tired.

“Rough night?” The voice came from behind him, low and sardonic. Lando turned to see a man, older, sharp-suited, with the kind of smirk that made you want to punch him.

“Just another one,” Lando replied, his tone clipped. He didn’t know this man, didn’t care to.

The man nodded, his gaze sliding to where she stood, radiant under the chandeliers. “She’s something, isn’t she? Always knows how to light up a room.”

Lando didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

The man chuckled, a knowing sound that grated on Lando’s nerves. “But I suppose that’s the thing about women like her. They take everything you’ve got and leave you wondering if it was ever enough.”

Lando’s jaw tightened. The words cut too close, too deep. He turned back to the bar, signalling for another drink. The man didn’t push further, just gave a slight nod before disappearing into the crowd.

When the bartender slid the glass toward him, Lando stared at it for a moment, the amber liquid catching the light. How many of these nights had he survived? How many more could he endure?

“Lando.” Her voice was soft, cutting through the noise.

He turned to see her standing there, her smile as flawless as ever, though her eyes held that familiar edge. The one that always seemed to ask, Are you going to fight me, or are you going to give in?

“We should leave soon,” she said, brushing a hand over her necklace. “People will start to talk if we stay too long.”

He almost laughed at that. People always talked. It was the only constant in their world.

“Right,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He grabbed his jacket, the movement sharp, deliberate.

As they walked toward the exit, arm in arm for the sake of appearances, Lando felt the weight of her against him. To the onlookers, they were untouchable, unstoppable. But he knew better. She wasn’t leaning on him. She was pulling him down, piece by piece.

And no matter how much he gave, it was never enough.

The ride back to the hotel was suffocating in its silence. Lando stared out the window, watching the city blur into streaks of light and shadow. She sat beside him, her fingers scrolling idly on her phone, her face unreadable. They didn’t speak. They rarely did anymore unless it was for show.

When the car finally pulled up to the grand hotel, she stepped out first, the driver opening the door for her as though she were royalty. Lando followed, loosening his tie as they made their way through the lobby.

They looked like a power couple—walking in step, polished and composed. Heads turned as they passed, whispers trailing behind them like a faint echo. It was always the same. People admired what they thought they saw.

When they reached their floor, the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. She stepped out first, her heels clicking against the marble. Lando followed a step behind, his feet heavier with each stride.

She stopped in front of her door, the number gleaming under the dim hallway lights. “Goodnight, Lando,” she said, her voice smooth, pleasant. Polished for the cameras that weren’t even there.

He nodded, already turning to head to his room further down the hall. But then her voice stopped him.

“Lando.”

He turned back, his hand still on the keycard in his pocket. She stood there, her hand on the doorframe, her head tilted slightly as she studied him.

“You’re in a mood tonight,” she said, her tone light, teasing, but there was something else in her eyes. Something sharp.

“Am I?” he replied flatly, his exhaustion bleeding through.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she took a step toward him, closing the distance between them. Her perfume reached him first, soft and heady, the kind he used to find intoxicating. Now it just felt cloying.

Her hands slid up his chest, her touch feather-light, deliberate. “You don’t have to sulk,” she murmured, her voice dropping lower, almost a purr. “You could come in. Stay with me tonight.”

He stiffened, his eyes searching hers. “I thought you said goodnight.”

She smiled, that perfect curve of her lips that had fooled so many. “I changed my mind.”

Before he could respond, she leaned in, her mouth brushing his. It wasn’t gentle. It never was with her. Her lips moved against his with a hunger that felt practiced, calculated. Her hands slid to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

He didn’t move at first. He didn’t want to. But then her tongue traced his bottom lip, and he gave in—not because he wanted to, but because it was easier. Because blowing off steam with her was less complicated than the alternative. Because if he left her standing in that hallway and found someone else, people would notice. They’d talk. They always did.

His hands found her waist, gripping tighter than he intended. She moaned softly against his lips, her body pressing into his as if she could melt into him entirely. It was almost enough to make him forget the hollowness behind it all.

Almost.

He broke the kiss first, his breath uneven. She leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, her lips slightly swollen, her expression unreadable.

“Come on,” she whispered, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “No one has to know.”

The irony of her words wasn’t lost on him. No one has to know. As if they weren’t already a living spectacle. As if their lives weren’t dissected and discussed by strangers every day.

He nodded, wordlessly, and followed her into the room. Because it was easier. Because it was expected. Because it was all he had left to give.

The door shut softly behind them, the click of the lock cutting off the world outside. Her heels echoed against the hardwood floor as she stepped into the room, shedding her wrap and tossing it onto a nearby chair. The suite was immaculate—too pristine, too perfect, just like everything else in their lives.

Lando stood by the door for a moment, watching her. She didn’t glance back, already unfastening the clasp of her necklace and setting it on the dresser. The silence between them was thick, stretching taut like a thread ready to snap.

She turned, her eyes locking onto his. “Well?” she asked, her voice soft but challenging. “Are you just going to stand there?”

He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he were stalling for time. He didn’t know why—he already knew how the night would go.

She closed the distance between them in two strides, her fingers hooking into his shirt and pulling him closer. Her lips found his again, more insistent this time, and he let her. His hands settled on her hips, his grip firm but distant. She pressed her body against his, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the thin fabric of her dress.

“You’re so tense,” she murmured against his lips, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. “You need to relax.”

He almost laughed at that. Relax. As if he could. As if this—they—weren’t part of the reason he felt like he was drowning. But he didn’t say it. He just let her guide him, her movements fluid and precise, like a dance she’d perfected over time.

Her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, her fingers deftly working them open. She kissed along his jaw, down his neck, her breath warm against his skin. He closed his eyes, trying to will himself to feel something. Desire, anger, anything. But all he felt was the gnawing emptiness that had been with him for months.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes searching his. “You’re quiet tonight.”

“Just tired,” he said, the words coming out flat.

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t press. Instead, she reached for his hand, guiding him toward the bed. “Come here.”

He followed, his steps heavy, his mind already elsewhere. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trailing up his arms as she pulled him closer. Her lips found his again, her kiss slow, sensual, calculated.

For a moment, he let himself get lost in it. In the warmth of her skin, the softness of her lips, the way her body moved against his. It was easier than thinking, easier than feeling.

But even as he sank into the motions, a voice in the back of his mind whispered the truth: this wasn’t love. This wasn’t even connection. This was survival. For both of them.

Her hands slid lower, tugging at his belt, and he let her. Because if he stopped now—if he pulled away, if he walked out—he didn’t know where he’d go. Or what he’d do.

And so, he stayed. Not because he wanted to, but because it was what was expected. Because it was what he’d been trained to do. Give enough to keep the peace. Enough to make it through the night.

But even as he moved with her, his body going through the motions, his mind drifted. And he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could keep giving before there was nothing left of him at all.

A little while later the room was dark except for the faint glow of the bathroom light spilling into the corner. She’d slipped out of bed without a word, the soft click of the door barely registering in the haze of his thoughts. Lando lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The sheets were tangled around his waist, their warmth suffocating despite the cold air in the suite.

He ran a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths. His body felt heavy, his mind heavier. The act itself had been mechanical—motions he’d gone through so many times before, with her, with others. It should’ve been release, a momentary reprieve from the weight he carried. But instead, it only added to the weight.

In the bathroom, water ran softly from the tap, and he could hear the faint shuffle of her movements. She was thorough, always. Her routine was perfect, every step deliberate. He imagined her wiping off her makeup, smoothing out the lines that cracked her carefully crafted image. She’d come out in a silk robe, her hair pinned back, her expression serene, as if none of it ever touched her.

But him? He was cracked straight through, and no amount of polishing would make him whole again.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, exhaling sharply. His mind churned, fragments of thoughts colliding like shards of broken glass. He could end this. He could say the words, let it unravel, walk away. She’d be fine. She always landed on her feet. And him? He’d finally be free.

But what then?

Lando swallowed hard, his hand falling back to the mattress. The truth of it burned in his chest, heavy and bitter: he wouldn’t end it. He couldn’t.

Because this—this mess of a relationship, this performance they lived—was the most stability he’d ever had. It was the closest he’d come to something resembling a home. And even though it was killing him, it was better than the void that waited outside of it.

He clenched his jaw, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers. There were none, of course. Just the same gnawing emptiness that followed him everywhere.

The bathroom door opened, and she stepped out, exactly as he’d imagined: her robe cinched at the waist, her hair swept back, her face bare but flawless. She glanced at him briefly, her expression neutral, then moved to the other side of the bed.

“Goodnight,” she said softly, slipping under the covers.

“Goodnight,” he replied, though the word felt hollow.

He lay there for a moment longer, the silence pressing down on him. Then, with a sigh, he pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Leaving?” she asked, her voice calm, almost indifferent.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching for his shirt on the floor. “I’ve got an early morning.”

She didn’t respond, simply turning onto her side and closing her eyes. It was the same every time. No argument, no questions. Just this unspoken understanding that this was how it worked.

He dressed quickly, buttoning his shirt with practiced efficiency. His tie was a crumpled mess in his hand, but he didn’t bother fixing it. As he grabbed his jacket and shoes, he cast one last glance at her. She looked peaceful, like a portrait in a gallery—beautiful, untouchable, and completely detached.

He stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence out here was colder, emptier, but he welcomed it.

As he walked toward his room, his shoes dangling from his hand, he felt the familiar weight settle on his shoulders again. The routine was almost comforting in its predictability. Wake up. Smile for the cameras. Go through the motions. Give enough to keep the world spinning.

Because if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure what would happen.

And that terrified him more than anything else.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

[menofprogress]

I saw someone say that Viktor constantly reaching out to Jayce and trying to get him on his side after he initially left him and after Jayce fought, rejected and shot at him makes no sense but i disagree.

Imho jayce and viktor are incredibly, INSANELY codependent, they were each others closest contact for nearly a decade, saw each other every day, single mindedly worked towards the same goal, etc. Their lives immediately take a nosedive once theyre even slightly separated from each other (viktor nearly dies, jayce kills a kid, viktor atomises sky and then nearly kills himself, jayce lands in apocalypse land and viktor starts a cult). They instinctively always act like theyre still partners, even when theyre clearly supposed to be enemies because not being together feels unnatural to them.

Jayce doesnt act consciously when reviving viktor using the hexcore and YES viktor is hurt and distressed bc he was essentially turned into rio and he feels like he needs to leave, but then what? He probably finds out about jayces disappearance a few days later and is like "oh no, oh fuck, i know I left HIM, but i didnt want this" i mean he probably thought jayce was dead.

So for a few months he builds his commune and deliberately integrates sentimental things about his and jayces partnership (his 'home' looks like the hexgates, hes still wearing the blanket, for some reason theres a forge in the commune) which, imho, shows hes mourning and missing jayce in his own way. (A special personal hc of mine is that he grew out his hair out of grief). And in the pit we have jayce sobbing and crying bc he misses both mel and viktor so much.

So jayce reappears and viktors like "heeeyyyy bestie, oh my god, i missed u come visit me!!!" And jayce is rightfully confused like "didnt YOU break up with ME?" and viktor is like "nooo, hahaha, i was crazy back then, just forget about it, pls visit me?" And is only mildly concerned by jayce killing one of his followers (and then hes also mostly concerned about jayce, not salo lol)

Then jayce arrives and shoots him and its very painful bc viktor fully didnt expect jayce to hurt him! Hes so shocked 😭

Anyways after that Viktor "attacks" (more like "does a mating dance for") jayce in the council room and AGAIN asks him to join his emo band and is AGAIN shocked and hurt when jayce genuinely fights back and rejects him. Viktor is temporarily hurt and gives singed the ok to start the process.

And then as the fully transformed herald he STILL talks about how happy he is to see jayce and doesnt really put any effort into neutralising him. Like he could have just shot him hbxhnxgkhfj

All the while we have jayce talking big talk about stopping viktor, but when it comes down to it?? He doesnt manage to take him out and still talks to him. And then he sees Viktor in the astral realm and once there is a SLIVER of hope hes immediately like "oh thank god i can stop trying to kill him, this was never going to work"

All of this isnt contradictory to me. It means that both of them actually know that they should be on opposing sides now, they start acting according to the idea that the other one is now an enemy, they make plans accordingly, but when it comes down to it theyre reluctant to actually follow through bc that would mean a life without the other and thats worse than staying enemies forever.

Viktor kept reaching out, hoping to be partners again after MULTIPLE rejections and jayce couldnt bear to kill viktor or to let him die alone. Being apart from each other is quite literally the worst thing for either of them, so the instinct to reach out to each other will always take over.

[writingwithciara]

blinking lights -quinn hughes-

summary: with planes grounded for the holiday due the snow storm, y/n & quinn are forced to spend christmas together. but oddly enough, neither of them seem to mind much

word count: 3.4k

pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader

note: i LOVE writing roommate quinn honestly

"i'm sorry mom. i won't be able to make it home this year. all flights out of vancouver are cancelled." y/n looked at the website opened on her laptop. her mom was sighing on the other end of the line. "i know. i'm sorry. but i should be able to visit in the new year. i promise."

"it's okay honey. i'm just glad that you'll be safe." her mom sighed again. "are your roommates stranded too?"

"i'm not sure. quinn left earlier to catch a flight so it's a possibility."

"well for you sake, i hope you're not alone for the holidays."

"i hope so too, mom." y/n looked up when the door opened. "gotta go, mom. quinn's home."

"okay sweetie. i'll call you tomorrow."

"alright. sounds good. love you."

as y/n hung up, quinn sat next to her on the couch.

"no luck?"

"unfortunately." y/n sighed and closed her laptop. "i'm guessing the same goes for you?"

"yeah. it kinda sucks. it's the first christmas i won't be able to see my family."

"at least neither of us will be alone this year."

"fair point." quinn chuckled and turned on the tv. "what should we watch?"

"frosty the snowman. always makes me feel better."

"got it." quinn smiled and put the movie on. he glanced around the bare apartment. "since we'll both be here for christmas, why don't we decorate? we can also combine traditions and do them together."

"i guess it beats sitting in an empty apartment. we definitely need some christmas spirit in this place."

"strongly agree. we'll go out tomorrow to get some decorations and we'll make a day of decorating and traditions."

"alright." y/n turned her attention to the tv screen. "my mom is supposed to call me tomorrow and she may want to talk to you."

"why?"

"i don't know. i suppose it's because i talk about you a lot but i think she's not sure if you're a guy or a girl. never really specified, honestly." she smiled. "i'm only telling you now so you're not completely shocked when she calls."

"alright." he smiled. "should i expect any questions?"

"she'll probably asked why i'm living with you and stuff like that."

"okay. i think i can handle it." quinn smiled.

after the movie, they both went to their rooms to get some sleep. decorating their apartment was going to be a huge task but if anyone could do it, it's y/n & quinn.

the next morning, y/n woke up early and sent her mom a text.

hey mom. i'm going shopping with quinn today and we're gonna be decorating our apartment after. i'll call you later, alright? love you <3

the second she heard quinn moving around in his room, she smiled and put on a pot of coffee. y/n watched him walk into the kitchen slowly. he smiled at her and sat at the counter.

"ready to shop for decorations today?"

"you bet." y/n smiled and poured them each a cup of coffee. she was excited to spend more time with quinn than she was used to. for the past 3 years, she had been harboring a crush on her roommate but the timing to tell him was never right. he was almost always in a relationship and his girlfriends barely liked her. they tolerated her, at best. and that was why she didn't spend a whole lot of time with him.

when the time came, quinn drove them to the seasonal store downtown. they went their separate ways once inside so they could get the decorations faster and have more time putting everything up.

while walking down the 'gifts for her' aisle, quinn saw something on the shelf that he knew y/n would love. it was so perfectly her that he just couldn't pass it up. he couldn't help the way his heart beat faster just thinking of what her reaction would be. he was so far gone for her but didn't want to risk pushing her away. especially not when she was finally spending time with him again.

it took 20 minutes to get everything and quinn insisted on paying for everything. he didn't y/n to see the gift he was getting her.

when they got home, quinn quickly hid the gift in his room, deciding he would wrap it tonight and give it to her in the morning. by the time he made it back to the living room, y/n had all the decorations sorted out in piles based on each room they were going to work on.

"so i figured you could get started in the kitchen while i worked out here. fair warning, i may need your help after."

"then why don't we work together?" he chuckled. "wouldn't that make more sense?"

"well i was going to play christmas music and when i dance, it looks weird."

"i highly doubt that." he smiled. "i've seen you dance before."

"that was always choreographed or because i was drunk. but i'm sober and don't want to make a fool of myself."

"y/n, i don't think you're capable of doing such a thing. just let me help you out here."

"alright, fine. but no judging me on my dance moves, hughes."

"i would never." quinn smiled and grabbed a box of lights. he grabbed the necessary items to get started while y/n put some music on the speaker. "wanna start on opposite ends and meet in the middle?"

"yes sir." y/n grabbed the other decorations and went across the room. halfway through the 3rd song, quinn was done hanging lights. he turned to look at y/n. she was dancing and in her own little world and quinn couldn't help but admire her more. how could she think she'd look like a fool? he thought she was beautiful and one day, he was going to get the courage to tell her.

when y/n turned around to grab something, she noticed quinn staring at her. it suddenly made her self conscious. "what?"

"nothing. i was just watching you dance."

"oh. i'm sorry about that. i told you i looked like a fool when i dance sober."

"quite the opposite actually. it was pretty cute." he chuckled and headed to the kitchen to start decorating, leaving y/n to stare with red cheeks.

it took her a minute to follow but when she finally got to the kitchen, quinn was already halfway through decorating.

"wow. you work fast." y/n smiled and instead of offering to help, she just leaned against the counter and watched him.

"yeah. sorry about that. i just couldn't help myself. i know you wanted to help with the decorating."

"no. it's perfectly fine. i like observing." y/n smirked and pulled out a mug. she poured herself some hot chocolate and sipped it while quinn went back to work. while he worked, y/n climbed onto the counter and smiled. this was the perfect way to admire quinn without feeling too guilty.

by the time quinn was finished, y/n had a mug of hot chocolate made for him. when she handed it to him, their fingers brushed against each other, causing y/n to draw her hand back quickly. the moment was interrupted when y/n's phone was ringing. she glanced down at the caller id.

"it's my mom." y/n showed him the phone and hit the 'accept' button. her moms face filled the screen in seconds. "hey mom."

"hey sweetie. how's your day?"

"it's good. quinn and i have been decorating for an hour. the place looks amazing. wanna see it?"

"in a minute. i want to meet your roommate."

y/n looked up and held the phone out to quinn. he took it and moved to stand beside y/n so they'd both be on the screen.

"hi. it's nice to finally meet you."

"oh my. you're certainly not what i was expecting."

"y/n informed me that you would say something like that." he smiled.

"how's it going, living with my baby?"

"mom!" y/n turned her face into quinn's shoulder while he chuckled.

"it's great. we're having the best time." he couldn't stop smiling. y/n's head fit perfectly in his shoulder. it was like a dream come true to have her this close. "she's amazing and probably my best friend."

"i'm glad she has such a good friend, honestly. i was so worried about her."

"you don't have to worry about her now. she's in good hands." he chuckled and threw his arm around y/n's shoulder. she grabbed the phone from him and smiled.

"alright. we gotta finish decorating. i'll talk to you later. bye mom. i love you."

"bye you guys. love you too."

after she hung up, y/n turned to quinn. "i'm your best friend, huh?"

"yeah, actually." he turned to stand across from her. "and it kind of hurt when you distanced yourself a little bit over the last 2 years. thought it was something i did. but i'm really glad you're coming back around."

"yeah i'm sorry about that. but none of your girlfriends liked me so i thought it'd be easier for your relationships if i wasn't around a whole lot."

"why didn't they like you?"

"i don't know." y/n shrugged and turned to refill her mug. "but for the record, you're my best friend too."

"glad to hear it." quinn smiled slightly before walking out to the living room. although he had just called her his best friend, he didn't like hearing the word come from her mouth.

"quinn," y/n called out after him as she followed him into the living room. "i'm never going to distance myself from you again, okay? it was hurting me too."

"i'm sorry you felt like you had to give me space. and i'm really sorry they didn't like you. i don't understand why they didn't. you're one of the most likeable people i know."

"i try to be. and i don't understand why they didn't. but it's all in the past and i've learned from my mistakes." y/n sat and looked at him. "i can never stay away from you, quinn. it'll probably kill me."

"well i'm glad you're sticking around because it would probably kill me too, if i'm being honest." he turned to face her and smiled. "so, are there any traditions you have with your family that we can do tonight?"

"my mom and i usually bake cookies and eat some random take-out while watching home alone or how the grinch stole christmas. but we don't have to do that."

"why not? it sounds like fun."

"you'd really want to bake cookies with me?" y/n's eyes widened and she couldn't help the way her smile grew.

"of course. if it makes you happy, then i'll do anything."

y/n tried to ignore the way her heart wanted to beat out of her chest. never in her life had she met a guy so willing to do anything she had asked. it took everything in her not to launch herself across the couch and kiss him. she had to keep reminding herself that they were just friends.

while they baked cookies, both of them enjoyed the closeness of the other. side by side and covered in flour. usually, quinn hated messes but with y/n, he didn't care.

when they put the cookies in the oven, quinn wiped his hands on a towel.

"i'm gonna go take a shower. you order dinner and pick out the movie. i'll be out in a bit." quinn didn't wait for her to reply. he just headed into the bathroom to shower. he spent half an hour in their and when he got out to get dressed, he realized that with his quick exit, he forgot to grab a new shirt from his room. the one he was wearing was covered in flour but luckily the rest of his clothes were fine. he put on his shorts and walked out into the hallway.

y/n looked up from the couch and watched quinn walk into his room. she only got a brief look at him but she was still speechless, regardless of having seen him without a shirt many times. she quickly turned her attention to the tv when he came walking back out to join her on the couch.

"food should be here in 10 minutes and i decided to go with home alone this year. is that okay?"

"it's perfect." quinn smiled and threw his arm around the back of the couch. the couch was big enough for at least 7 people but they were sitting on the same cushion. not close enough to be touching but close enough to feel the heat radiating off of each other. and every few seconds, quinn's thumb would rub against y/n's shoulder. but neither of them seemed to care.

when the food arrived, quinn went to grab it. and when he sat back down, he was closer to y/n than before. as they ate, y/n tried not to focus on the closeness of her best friend. it was hard but she was able to do it.

until he swung his arm back over the couch. he may as well have just placed it across her shoulder with the way his hand was resting there. as they watched the movie, quinn had moved his arm down to where it was actually resting across y/n. she looked at him with an innocent smile, which he adored, then went back to watching the rest of the movie.

when the movie was finally over, y/n stood up and stretched. "well i'm gonna get ready for bed."

"before you do, i was wondering if you wanted to take part in one of my family's traditions."

"it's not going to be something weird, is it?"

"no." he smiled. "unless you count wearing matching pajamas to bed on christmas eve."

"oh my gosh. my family does the same thing." y/n giggled. "wait, do we have matching pajamas?"

"yeah. i bought them a few days ago and was intending to give you a pair before i left for the holidays but i guess it was just meant to happen this way. be right back." quinn smiled and ran to his room. he returned seconds later with the pjs. "i hope you like them."

"they're a gift from you, quinn. i always like those." y/n smiled and headed into her room to change. quinn did the same and they managed to come out at the same time. all he could so was admire the way the clothes fit y/n perfectly. "how did you know my size?"

"because i know you." quinn chuckled, not wanting to admit it was because he stared at her so long that he memorized everything.

"you're the most perfect roommate, quinn." she smiled and threw her arms around him. "thank you."

he immediately hugged her back. "you're welcome."

"okay. well it's bed time now. i'll see you in the morning. good night quinn." y/n ran off the her room to try to get some sleep. but she knew that would be impossible, due to the overwhelming attraction she was feeling. if she didn't tell quinn soon, her emotions were going to shut her down.

as quinn sat at the desk in his room, he couldn't stop thinking about how excited y/n had been when she came out in the pjs. he had seen her happy many times but there was just something different this time.

he wrapped her gift neatly and set it down beside his bed. it was going to be the first thing he grabbed in the morning and he hoped she would love it as much as he loved her.

when the sun rose the next morning, quinn grabbed the box and headed out to the kitchen. y/n was normally a morning person so he was surprised that she hadn't woken up yet. he set the box on the counter and began making coffee. just as he was adding the finishing touches to y/n's coffee, she walked out of her room.

"good morning, quinn."

"good morning, y/n" he smiled and handed her the coffee. when she took a sip, her whole body instantly warmed up.

"this is the best coffee i've ever tasted. thank you." she grinned and continued to drink it as they both made their way onto the couch.

"so what else does your family do for christmas?"

"we stay in our pjs all day and spend time together. it's pretty boring but if you're around the right people, you can have the best time."

"well then that's exactly what we will do today." quinn smiled. "oh, before i forget, i have a present for you. close your eyes." he got off the couch and grabbed the gift from the kitchen before returning. "i hope you like it."

y/n unwrapped it carefully and opened the box. she pulled out a teddy bear with a canucks jersey on. and not just any jersey. a demko jersey. he even came with mini goalie pads and a helmet.

"i know how much you love thatcher so when i saw this, i just knew i had to get it for you."

"i love it so much. thank you, quinn." y/n set the bear down and hugged quinn. "i didn't get you anything. i'm sorry."

"it's alright. you being here is enough of a present for me." he rubbed her back and smiled. when y/n pulled back a little, her whole expression had changed. she was still happy but there were tears in her eyes.

"i appreciate that, quinn. but i feel like it's just not enough to make you truly happy."

"y/n, you're more than enough. you are the perfect gift."

y/n smiled and placed her lips on his. he was shocked at first and just as y/n was about to break the kiss, quinn pulled her closer and kissed her back. they stayed in that position for a few minutes before either one of them wanted to let go. when they separated, quinn rested his forehead against y/n's and smiled.

"if i had known that would be the outcome, i would've told you those words a long time ago." he smiled and held her face. "i've been wanting to say it for as long as i've known you but the timing was never right. you had steven and i had my own relationships. but i guess that's kind of a cowards excuse, huh?"

"nothing about you says 'coward', quinn." y/n smiled and closed her eyes. "you're the most kind, patient and sweetest man i've ever known in my life. these last 3 years of random relationships and hook-ups have all brought us to this exact moment. the moment where i can finally tell you that i've had the biggest crush on you for the past 3 years. i know it sounds insane but i like you a lot quinn. and maybe that's why your girlfriends were always jealous. they could probably tell how i felt and they didn't want me around to screw up their chances with you. that's why i had to keep a distance from you. i didn't want to have to make you choose between me and them because it would've been a losing battle for me."

"if that had ever happened, you would've won every single time. i never really cared about all those other girls. the only one that matters to me, is you. and i hope i conveyed that well enough in that kiss."

"seems pretty evident now." y/n smiled and finally opened her eyes. "guess that was kind of stupid of me, wasn't it?"

"not at all." quinn smiled. "like you said, the last 3 years of random relationships have brought us to this moment right here. the most perfect moment." he placed a kiss on her lips again but didn't give her enough time to reciprocate. "i love you, y/n. everything about you is so perfect and it's been driving me crazy for 3 years."

"i can't believe that the planes being grounded are the reason we're here together."

"me either. but i wouldn't change it for anything."

"i wouldn't either." y/n leaned up to kiss him again. "for the record, i love you too."

[heich0e]

rintarou plays with a bit of ribbon left strewn across the floor, twirling it around his long, lithe fingers idly. it's green and velvety, and slips easily between his digits as he winds it slowly between the valleys of his knuckles, humming a little tune to himself.

as you approach him in the living room by the christmas tree, he looks up at you with a soft, content smile on his face.

"here you go," you say, handing him the cup of coffee you've just prepared, steam curling from the surface. it's in a novelty mug he got you last christmas, shaped like a cute little character from a sci-fi franchise you've loved since you were a kid, and he takes it with an appreciative nod—careful not to spill a drop as the cup passes from your hand to his own.

you take a seat at his side with your own cup of coffee once he's taken his first sip.

"mmm," he hums once he's swallowed the mouthful. "it's good."

"i put some cinnamon in the french press," you tell him, leaning a bit against his arm, your cheek resting on his shoulder as the two of you sit tucked together on the living room floor beneath the tree.

"festive," rinatrou says with an approving nod, shifting so you press even closer to his side, his arm snaking back around your waist.

it's been a slow, easy morning in your nagano apartment. you insisted on opening gifts first thing, because that's what your family always did growing up, and even though rintarou wasn't much of a holiday person to begin with he indulged you without question. it wasn't a grand, elaborate ordeal, just a couple of gifts exchanged between the two of you; some new headphones for rin, some perfume for you, little bits of clothes for each of you here and there. your mother had sent each of you a new pair of mittens (though your card had included an unsubtle but endearing note about how it would be a shame to cover up the new ring you've recently started wearing on your left hand) and rin's sister sent you a popular local tea from the town where she's attending university.

"did you have a nice christmas?" you ask rintarou as he takes another sip of coffee. he hums in agreement, looking down at where you're tucked into his side.

"did you?"

you echo his earlier hum.

"we should clean up," you say, looking around the room at the torn gift wrap and boxes on the floor. "i need to clean up from making the coffee, too."

rintarou dips down and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "you do that, i'll take care of this stuff."

you nod, pulling yourself away from the warmth of his side, pushing yourself back up to your feet as rintarou crawls towards the mess at the bottom of the tree.

you're just about to cross the threshold to the kitchen when you hear him say.

"oh, there's another gift under here."

"what?" you ask, turning back to face him. heat suddenly floods your face when you see him kneeling underneath the tree with a familiar gift in his hands. it's not a very large gift—a slim little package only a bit bigger than the size of his hand—so while you're not surprised it went unnoticed at first, you're mortified when you realize what's about to happen.

"it's for me," he says in confusion after reading the tag, glancing over at you.

"um," you stumble a little over your feet as you try to cross the room towards him. "what if you wait to open that until late—!"

rintarou's finger is already under the edge of the wrapping paper, though he hasn't properly ripped into it yet. he's watching you curiously as you approach him, a glint of something in your eyes that's caused you far too many headaches in the four years the two of you have been dating.

"rin, stop," you say to him, and though you make every attempt to sound firm, the demand comes out more pleading than anything.

"what did you get for me?" he asks, a lilt of mischief in his tone as he peels up the corner of the wrapping paper ever so slightly.

"it's nothing important," you insist, falling to your knees beside him and trying to cover up the present with your hands. "you can have it later."

"but it's christmas now," he counters, slipping the gift out from your hands and holding it away from you. "plus all the other presents are opened, it'll be lonely under the tree all by itself."

"rintarou," you groan, tipping yourself face first into his chest to hide your shame. the telltale sound of wrapping paper tearing tells you that as much as he might love to indulge you, he delights in tormenting you even more.

"what is this?"

you refuse to pull yourself away from his chest.

its quiet for a moment. you hear some shuffling, and you can clearly picture rintarou turning the little package over in his hands as he scrutinizes it.

"was this supposed to be for me?" he asks after a moment, clearly confused.

you don't say anything.

you don't even move.

"did you fall asleep?" rintarou teases you, rubbing at your back as you keep your face hidden against his chest.

"no, i died," you answer, but the words are muffled by the material of his hoodie.

"oh no, not on christmas. how tragic," he drawls jokingly, but you don't laugh.

"...baby..."

"...babe."

"why did you buy me a present i don't understand just to get mad at me about it?" he mutters when you don't respond to any of his beckoning.

finally you separate yourself from his sweatshirt to peer up at him resentfully.

"it is for you," you mumble under your breath, answering his earlier question. you snatch the package out from his hands, tucking it against your chest with your arms crossed over top of it. "but i'm the one who's supposed to wear them."

you watch the realization dawn on rintarou's face. if you weren't so hideously embarrassed, you might even find it in yourself to laugh at the almost cartoonish expression of enlightenment.

"oh," he breathes. "oh."

suddenly he's in your face, dipping down to meet you at eye level, his nose brushing yours.

"you got those just for me?" he asks, and you can almost taste the cinnamon on his lips.

"yeah," you answer quietly, and he kisses you to muffle the little groan the slips out of his lips at your answer.

with one hand cradling the back of your head, rintarou lowers you back onto the ground, slotting himself between your thighs as they part to welcome him. his tongue slips between your lips to meet your own, the warmth his hands gliding up over your hips towards your chest.

you don't resist as he slips the little box out from your grasp.

rintarou pulls away, and you look up at him from your position on the floor as your chest heaves. the look in his eyes as he appraises the gift lacks any of the confusion it had a moment prior, replaced now with a heady, palpable lust.

he turns the box around towards you, and you have no choice but to look at the silky sheer tights in their luxurious packaging.

"this is a very thoughtful gift," he says to you quietly, his voice low and a little strained. the bulge in his gray sweatpants, which has only gotten larger since his moment of realization, does not go unnoticed by you.

"it's easy to buy gifts for a pervert," you mumble, hiding your face under your hand.

slowly rintarou lifts your hand from your face, and you watch under heavy lidded eyes as he lifts it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles tenderly—right over the ring he put there a few days prior.

"are you gonna put them on for me?" rintarou speaks into your skin, his lashes fluttering in a way that might seem sweet if the circumstances were different. you take the package from him, slipping your fingertip under the lip of the packaging to pry it open.

you glance up at him again.

rintarou laughs breathily as he meets your gaze, and you catch a glint of teeth biting down into the plush of his lip like he's trying to restrain himself.

there's a sudden thickness in your throat. a knot in your stomach. anticipation thrums just underneath your skin, prickling up to the surface with every gentle touch of his hands.

you tilt the opened package back towards him.

"don't you wanna put them on me yourself?"

he'll be the one tearing them off you in a few minutes anyway, so he may as well enjoy them while they last.

[momotonescreaming]

Stripping Back the Coats

Rating: T | WC: 5.2k | Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard Tommy & Chim Friendship, Post Break-Up, Hurt Comfort

[read on AO3]

Apropos of nothing, or what looked like it at first glance, Tommy broke the silence. Shattered the stagnation in the air that swamped his living room. The movie he and Chim were watching had finished, the room falling into quiet.

Hand loosely cradling a bottle of craft beer — some fancy brew he'd been talking up that was as nice tasting as it was expensive. Not that Chim was just going to admit that, at least not right away — he'd let Tommy sit with it first. Tommy, who was perched on the edge of his comfortably large couch like he was unsure he was allowed to be there. One move and the string holding him together would be pulled taut, and he'd spring off the couch to standing. He looked like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to collapse or stand at attention.

Instead he hovered in this weird middle ground of tight posture, perched on the edge of his couch. Like he was afraid he'd shatter with one wrong move, like glass spun too thin.

Chim thinks he's not as put together as he likes to seem — especially now, with the break up hanging over his shoulders.

"Did he ever tell you about our first date?" Tommy asks, brows gently furrowed, the words falling out of his mouth and onto the floor. Chim just hums, he's listening, acknowledging the rhetorical question. Even now, his words feel carefully chosen, strung together in the gossamer shield that seems to hold Tommy together. He. Not Evan, not even Buck. Chim wonders if it's because he knew he'd stutter over which to call him.

It'd feel weird hearing the name Buck come out of his mouth. Hell, it feels weird when he calls him Chimney. There's something comforting about being Howie to him. Buck must feel much the same, Chim imagines, getting to be Evan to him. There's just something special about how Tommy says names. Like they're special, like it's an honour just to get the privilege to say it. Maybe Chim's reading too far into it.

He takes a sip of Tommy's craft beer, his own bottle cradled in his hand, and it goes down smooth. He turns to look at Tommy, at his friend, and tries to leave his face blank and carefully earnest. As much as he likes to joke and kid and tease, he knows when it's not the time for it, and Tommy is barely holding himself together. If he looks close enough, he's sure he can see the cracks. That spindly thread holding him in place.

"Dinner and a movie." Tommy continues, and his voice sounds almost carefully flat. Each word finding it's place on his tongue. Chim tilts his head to look at him as he speaks. "We went to Miceli's — this nice Italian place, Old Hollywood, y'know? — ate, got a pitcher and talked."

He huffs out a laugh, more an exhale of air than anything, smiles at the memory. Chim smiles with him. Whatever he's thinking, there's something genuine there. Can see it etched in the lines of his face, in the lines gathering in the corner of his eyes, the curve and tilt of his mouth.

He looks more himself than he has all evening. More like the Tommy that Chim met flying a helicopter through a hurricane, and the Tommy he re-befriended after. Snarky, and cool, and lighter than he ever was at the 118. Even after Chim saved his life. Even after Gerrard left. He seemed like almost an entirely different person. More open.

Turns out there's still a long way to go.

"Beer wasn't even that good," Tommy jokes, turning to Chim with an almost conspiratorial smile.

"Saved the good stuff for me, huh?" Chim teases, placing a hand on his chest. "I'm flattered."

"You should be, I got these on special order." Tommy teases back, gesturing to his beer bottle with his own. "Not sure they're even making them anymore — it was a limited edition batch, y'know?"

Chim lets him talk through the very clear tangent, the very clear distraction Tommy is letting himself go down. Talk about the craft beer he's passionate about, that he was saving. Neither of them bring up the very real possibility that Tommy was saving it for date night with Buck.

He takes a sip of the limited edition beer, and watches something flicker over Tommy's face. The smile fades, the teasing smirk, and he looks down at the floor. At the rug beneath their feet.

"But yeah. The beer wasn't great but I really liked talking with him. He was earnest, interesting, cute. There was something about him that really drew me in, y'know?" Tommy smiles again, another sad thing, that same flickering over his expression. A glimpse of the new Tommy, happier Tommy — before he's gone again. "But, uh, it really didn't seem like he had processed what it meant to date another man?"

Tommy dims, his voice quieting, Chim only hearing him by virtue of Tommy wanting him to hear. Tilting his head towards him. The silence around them roars, the softness of his voice easing through it.

"He still hasn't." He says, voice walking the line between that careful flatness from before and an undercurrent of sheer sadness. There's something raw about it, something real, even moreso than the Tommy he was after he left the 118. This is deep-seated stuff, this sadness.

Chim knew that Tommy liked Buck, he's not stupid, but it sort of hits him in the moment just how much. It may have just started with thinking the other man was cute, earnest, interesting, but there was no doubt about it that it had settled into something real about it for Tommy.

And now it sort of sounds like Buck wasn't. Chim doesn't quite know what to think, not with what he's seen of Buck — he's tasted his baking, saw him drowning in oversized hoodies and staring at his phone on shift.

Maybe he didn't show all that to Tommy? He doesn't know what to say, how to say it, so he doesn't. And fuck it's hard, keeping what he knows of Buck in, but he does. Takes another sip of beer. He wants to know what Tommy thinks.

"Eddie walked in the restaurant with his girlfriend — Marisol, I think? — and spotted us immediately." Tommy continues, voice still low and sad, but he looks at Chim with questioning brows as he mentions Marisol. To which Chim just nods. Must not have met her much then, he thinks. "Buck panicked."

Tommy pulls a face as he says it, Chim following suit, his face screwing up as he hears the name Buck fall out of Tommy's mouth. He's right, it sounds weird. It feels wrong. Not allowed. Like something wonderful and special has been taken back. Pulled away.

He lets the feeling sit weird and awkward in his gut, Tommy rescinding his right to call him Evan, and focuses on the words.

Buck panicked.

A joke is sitting on the tip of Chim's tongue, a snarky comment, something teasing. Guess he really bucked it up. He'd say it to ease the mood if he didn't think it would upset Tommy. Turning his name into something bad. Even though Chim doesn't mean it maliciously — that's his brother-in-law, after all.

"He'd only just told me that it was his first date with a guy — I was ready to play it off as just new friends grabbing a beer — I wasn't going to out him before he was ready. I'm not that sort of guy—"

"Hey." Chim interrupts. Tommy seems like he needs it. To be shaken out of it, his voice speeding up, just slightly, looking up at Chim with wide eyes. All these tells, all these signs, are so small and easily missed. If Chim wasn't looking he had a feeling it would fly right past him. "I know you're not. Buck knows you're not."

Tommy takes a deep breath. Shaky on the exhale. He looks like he needed to hear it, there's a small easing of the tension in his shoulders. But he wasn't going to ask for it. There's a lot more to Tommy then he wants it to seem on the outside. His befriending him, his move to Harbour, his coming out — all first steps in opening up. But maybe he hadn't taken any more.

So if telling Tommy he was a good dude, helped, then Chim would remind him. He was, of course. He saw the start of his journey first hand. He remembers that first hug in the locker room. Love actually, monster trucks, craft beer. He saw Tommy's evolution, of sorts. He saw how happy he made Buck, how happy he seemed in return.

"But…" Tommy continues, steadying his breath, getting himself under control.

"But Buck put his foot in it."

"Yeah," Tommy says with a shaky laugh, an exhale of air. He doesn't think it's funny. "He told Eddie we were going to go out and pick up hot chicks."

"Shit." Chim winces, hissing air through his teeth and cringing backwards. "On your first date?"

Tommy hums in affirmation. Lets out another small, humourless laugh. Face almost impassive, as if he's processing as he speaks. Rolling everything that happened through his mind like he's thumbing at a marble, running thought by thought like a string of rosary beads. Chim wonders if it's helping.

"I cut the date short." Tommy says simply, an almost wistful sadness to his words. Eyes faraway, thinking about what was and what could have been. "Left him outside the restaurant instead of taking him to the movie."

"Nothing wrong with that." Chim says carefully, turning to Tommy. Nudging his side with his elbow. Wiggles his eyebrows, plays it up. "Sounds like he deserved it."

"Maybe a little." Tommy admits with a weak smile. He sighs, stale breath falling out of his mouth, dropping the smile. Scuffing his socked feet against the rug. "I don't want to be too hard on him."

"I won't tell him if you won't," Chim jokes, tipping his beer bottle towards the other man, before drawing it to his mouth and taking a sip.

Tommy lets out a weak snort.

"Buck invited me back to Miceli's for our six month anniversary," Tommy continues on an exhale of air, and it seems like the battle is leaving him. Not that there was much to begin with. Tension seeping out of his shoulders and dripping onto the floor, easing into something sad. Something resigned. "Didn't tell me it was for our anniversary when he invited me, but we both knew what it was. Maybe we should have talked about it more."

"You can't get caught up in what-ifs, Tommy," Chim adds simply. He knows it's not that easy, stopping going down the spiral of what if things were different, what if you changed things, what if you did xyz. Before he met Maddie, with Tatiana — there were a lot of what-ifs. Hell, there might have been even more once he started dating Maddie. "I've been there, and it's never any good. Even for the little things. You'll just drive yourself crazy."

He watches the other man sigh, dropping his head again. Cradling his beer bottle in the palm of his hands. Thumbing gently at the label, picking at a loose corner wet from the moisture of the cool bottle. "Yeah, Maybe."

Tommy takes a deep breath, sips his beer, and continues. Still thumbing at the label of his bottle. "A lot like that first time, it was going good until the end."

"Maybe Miceli's is cursed?" Chim teases, smirk quirking up the corner of his mouth. "Like his cowboy."

He hears Tommy snort, as he looks out over his living room. He's been barely looking at him as they talk, but Chim doesn't mind. It's easier, he knows, when no one is looking at you. When you can't see their reactions, their emotions, what they think.

As nice as Tommy's living room is — very cozy, very homey, with rugs and throw blankets and plush furniture — he draws his eye to Tommy himself. Watches his face, his posture, the way he holds himself. Watches for the things he shows, but doesn't say.

"Some lady came up to our table mid-dinner. Blonde, very Hollywood-pretty." Tommy's voice drops as he speak. Low, but not quiet. The words falling out of his mouth as his eyes drift somewhere far away. "Skipped like three tables in order to get to us. Asked Buck to take a photo of her and her friends."

"Flirting." Chim comments.

"Very obviously. Didn't seem to care that we were in the middle of dinner." He sighs, his face almost sagging under the weight of the emotion in his words. "He's hot, I kind of can't blame her."

"Except you can." Chim notes, eyes scanning Tommy's face, watches the upset twitch of the muscles in his jaw. "Or you can blame Buck?"

"I don't know." Tommy admits, and he can see he's telling the truth. "Buck was flustered, looked at me, but when he went to take their photo he automatically went to use his phone and she asked if he was trying to get her number."

He purses his lips together as he speaks, as if he's trying to stop them from turning down into a frown. His brows furrowing. "Buck didn't get her number — obviously — took their photo and went to sit back down with me. But."

"It hurt anyway?" Chim assesses, shifting subtly so he's closer to Tommy on the couch. He looks like he needs it. Someone near. He hopes he's helping just by listening.

"So much." Tommy says on a shudder. "I didn't quite realise I was waiting for him to debuff her, to tell her he was on a date with his boyfriend — until he didn't. I didn't want to say anything, ruin the mood, make it all about me."

"Hey," Chim comments, voice warm and comforting. He places a hand on Tommy's back, hoping it's a comforting presence, a comforting weight on the man's broad frame. "It wouldn't have been making it all about you. Especially not what happened last time you were there."

"It felt like a step backwards. Like, he could tell his family he has a boyfriend, but he's still ashamed to be seen with a man in public." Tommy sighs, a sad almost pitiful thing. Leaning into the weight of Chim's hand on his back. "Especially around a pretty woman."

Oh Buck.

Chim just purses his lips, and gently rubs Tommy's back. Hand moving in gentle circles. He doesn't know what to say to that. He's had his own struggles in love, in work, but he's never felt like the people he's been with have been ashamed to be seen with him. Even Tatiana. She started dating a Chim that didn't exist, sure, but they went on dates in public. And people knew it.

There's no way Buck meant for that to be the way his actions were portrayed, the man is head over heels for his boyfriend — but he can see how it came across that way. He can see the way it was the crack that helped grow the rift between them.

He just hums, and lets him continue.

"I had a hard time coming out. Worked hard to finally be authentically myself. Upended my whole life to do it." Tommy admits, his voice wavering. Wet, and thick. Emotions pushing at the words, at each syllable, begging to be let out. "I can't be shoved back in the closet. Be some dirty little secret. Not again. I can't."

Wrapping an arm around Tommy's broad frame, the expanse of muscle, Chim rests his beer bottle on the table next to him and turns his attention towards the other man. The other man who really seems like he needs it right now.

Tommy never really talked about his experience coming out, and Chim didn't ask. It didn't feel like it was his place to do so. They became friends over their time at the 118, and they caught up for beers a couple times after Tommy had moved to the 217. And he had cottoned on that Tommy came out — but he didn't ask for specifics. He worked with Gerrard, he knew Tommy was in the army, he could guess what it was like.

It hurt knowing that Buck put him right back there. It hurt even more knowing he didn't do it on purpose. And from what he'd heard of the breakup from Maddie — there was some reversal there, with what Tommy said before he walked out.

But that wasn't helpful now.

Today was about Tommy. About letting him talk, process. And Chim was there to help. It's not like there was anyone else. Tommy kept people at arms length and the only other people close enough were going to be with Buck. Eddie, Maddie, Hen. So Chim went to Tommy's, and he doesn't regret it.

"When he asked me for a second chance, after that disastrous first date," Tommy started, Chim huffing out a small laugh. An exhale of air out his nose at the way Tommy said disastrous. And after hearing what happened, he kind of can't blame him. "He said sorry, of course. And then he told me he wasn't sure what he was ready for. But he was ready for something and he wanted it with me."

Tommy smiles sadly, and Chim smiles along with him. It sounds almost romantic. That rom-com shit that Tommy not-so secretly loves. Sweetness and romance and earnest declarations. No wonder he fell for Buck. The smile drops from Tommy's face just as soon as it had appeared. "I should have listened when he said he wasn't sure what he was ready for."

"What do you mean?" Chim prompts, more curious about what Tommy's going to say than anything else. He can guess, of course. Turns out that he wasn't ready for something with me after all.

"He asked me to move in, did he tell you that?" Tommy questions, turning to Chim with brows furrowed. Gesturing with his beer bottle as he talks. "Brought up marriage and everything."

That, Chim did know, and not from Maddie. Buck had brought it up at the station, talking to everyone in the kitchen, and Chim had to bite his lip to hold back the snark sitting on his tongue. Into your loft, Buck? You rent, and Tommy owns his house. He had excused himself to go sort inventory. With how distraught Buck seemed, that also wasn't the time. Even though Chim was right. And it sounds like Tommy thinks so too. He hums that he's listening.

"And I just — what if we did move in, what then?" Tommy continues, voice strained. Chim can feel his chest start to rise and fall faster underneath his hand. "What if we did move in and Buck realised that what he was ready for wasn't me? What if he wanted more? What if it's me holding him back from really looking at his sexuality, from being able to comfortably call someone his boyfriend in public?"

"And you panicked." Chim states.

"And I panicked." Tommy confirms, breath stuttering as he exhales. Clenching his hands, steadying himself, as he takes another shaky breath. "I couldn't handle it. The idea that he finally figures himself out and doesn't want me anymore. That I'm not enough. He said he admired me, that I was confident and comfortable, and was one of the brave queer people who came before him. And I felt like a fraud."

"I've been there." Chim admits, the words falling out of his mouth before he can really process them. He turns to look at Tommy, pulling a face as he continues. Tommy watches him speak with searching eyes, his gaze roaming his face. Tommy's shared so much, much more than it seems he has in a really long time — the least Chim can do is reveal some things of his own. " The feeling like a fraud thing, I mean. Years ago, I was dating this girl — Tatiana, I don't think you met her before you left the 118?" he continues with furrowed brows. Tommy just shrugs. "But that's beside the point."

Shaking his head, as if to shake off the words. Tommy doesn't say anything, and for a moment Chim wishes he still had that beer in his hands. Something to fidget with, that's not the shirt on Tommy's back.

"We were together for far longer than we should have been. I was always complaining to the others how bored she always was, how hard it was to impress her. Hot though." Tommy snorts at that, and it feels like a win. A little reprieve from all the heavy shit they've been sifting through. "So I started exaggerating the truth, shall we say."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Tommy jokes, turning towards him in return, smirking faintly. Chim notices he doesn't pull away from his hand resting on his back. So he doesn't move, and continues talking.

"I wasn't lying!" Chim laughs. "Everything I said really happened! It just wasn't me who did it." He pulls a face, and tilts his head, conceding his own point. "And dialled up to 11. But it wasn't a lie! Technically. Maybe."

"Okay so you were lying."

"Yeah." Chim sighs. "Probably. I took things others did on call, went back to my apartment, and told her wild tales about what daring stunts I had done. Saving children and animals. Doing The Maneuver. I had to go home and pretend everyday."

And that gets Tommy listening, the smile fading into something earnest, attentive. He's hanging on Chim's every word now. It feels a little weird, oddly raw — telling Tommy these things. Most people he'd be comfortable knowing were there watching that relationship unfold. He's never had to tell anyone before.

"But I was so desperate for a family, a connection, something," Chim says, trying not to focus on Tommy's eyes drilling holes in the side of his head. "That I was willing to lie to my girlfriend to do it. Let her manipulate me, shape me, blind me to what was going on." He lets out a shaky breath, but powers through. For Tommy. "It blew up in my face of course."

"How so?"

"I proposed to her, she said no, told me she cheated on her ex-fiance, and then I got rebar through the skull."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Howie," Tommy exclaims, words falling out on the exhale.

"Not I'm not saying that that's going to happen to you,"Chim jokes, sliding his hand across Tommy's back and gesturing at him. He slides his voice into something more serious. "Or even that's what you and Evan were doing, just that I get it. It's hard."

"Yeah," Tommy shudders. "I spent so much of my life pretending, half the time not even knowing that it's what I was doing, that I don't know if I know how to stop anymore."

"And you think Buck saw a version of you that wasn't there?"

"Fuck, maybe?" Tommy says, brow furrowed unsure. He turns to look at Chim, a little distraught, pulling a face, before he turns away again. Stares back into the deep black of his TV Screen. "Probably. Which is probably my own fucking fault, not talking to him. But it's not like he asked either?"

"Do you think you wanted to be asked?" Chim prompts, guessing the answer is going to be another maybe. Or at least — that's what Tommy is going to tell him the answer is. He has a feeling the answer is secretly, obviously, yes. Tommy Kinard wants to be known, craves it so desperately, but is terrified of it in equal measure.

"If he did ask," Tommy starts, voice flat again, mouth down turned as he speaks. "It would have shattered the pedestal it felt like he put me on. And I don't know if that's worse."

Chim hums that he's listening again.

"He said he admired me, and Howie, you knew me way back then — there's nothing to admire."

Now that is just a blatant lie. There is something to admire about overcoming what Tommy overcame, about getting out and coming out. But he really doesn't think Tommy wants to hear it. He wouldn't believe it. He didn't believe it when Buck said it — the person he's most likely to believe.

Chim's not Buck, and he's only heard bits and pieces about his thought process, what he was going through on his side of things — but there's no way Buck meant that maliciously either. He knows about Buck being thrown for a loop, about talking to Maddie and Josh and something about Glee? But he knows for sure that the core of Buck's admiration for Tommy is love.

He loves him, and is proud of him. The man he was and the man he's become. His big beautiful boyfriend who's come so far and settled into himself.

It just sounds like Tommy's shit runs a lot deeper than anyone knew. Maybe even Tommy himself. He's learning so much about Tommy, here on his couch, the two of them spilling their guts. It's kind of nice, getting to know him more, this absent sort of friend he's know for over a decade.

He just wishes it wasn't like this.

"I'm not comfortable. I'm not confident. Not about this." Tommy says, shaking his head, and Chim wraps his arm back around his friend. "I'm not some paragon of gay rights. Gay pride. Someone who paved the way for those who came after, like he said when he brought up marriage. Fuck."

He shudders out another shaky breath, and Chim wishes he knew what to say. What joke to crack to make it all better. But he doesn't, so he listens. Just stays there for his friend. It feels like a long time since anyone has been there for Tommy. Not until Buck, at least.

"Did you know I've never been to pride?" Tommy asks, and Chim swears he can see his bottom lip wobble as he says that. Just ever so slightly. Until Tommy ducks his head, bowing it in a facsimile of prayer. Eyes shut, lashes shadowing his cheeks, that wobble to his bottom lip. "It always just made me feel like I didn't deserve to be there. Like I don't count. So I don't go."

Chim squeezes his side, draws him in like Tommy isn't bigger than him. Like he can tuck him underneath his arm completely, curled up like a sad roly poly of a man. There's nothing he can say to this. He'd go with Tommy to L.A. pride in a heartbeat, bring the whole 118 if it would make him feel better. But he really doesn't know if it would. Like a dehydrated man drowning in the depths of the ocean, it feels a little like throwing him to the sharks.

"I've always wanted to. Go to pride, that is." Tommy whispers. He clears his throat and looks at Howie. "He admired me because I'm one of brave queer men who paved the way to gay marriage, and I can't even go to pride without feeling like a fake."

He's never seen Tommy this open, this exposed, like ever. Even after years of friendship.It kind of hurts to see, pulls at his heartstrings hurts, seeing just how broken and vulnerable he is. Chim doesn't know what to say. What can he say about pride, without sounding fake himself. Like a well-meaning ally extending himself too much.

He knows about learning about your own culture, about exploring that part of yourself, he just doesn't know if now is the time to say it.

"I'm scared, Howie." Tommy admits quietly, sadly. "I'm scared that Buck is going to finally start learning about the queer community, about our depressing history, about what being a queer man means to him — and he'll realise that I have no part in that."

"So you broke your own heart before he could break yours." Tommy nods at Chim's words. He carefully doesn't mention that he broke Buck's as well. He wonders if a part of Tommy knew that would be a side effect. But that maybe the breakup would give him room to figure himself out, label his sexuality, and then he's ready to move on. Be a happy queer man, without the queer elder who opened the doors and stepped away. Who lived through the shit so he could live in the sun.

Howie can't say for sure, only guess, and he doubts either of them are going to tell him.

Neither of them are moving on.

Chim can't even be too mad at the guy for breaking Buck's heart. His own brother-in-law. He's clearly miserable himself, and his words just make him think of Maddie.

"Maddie left, you know?" Chim says, hand rubbing in gentle circles on Tommy's back. He looks across the living room, past the TV, and out the window into Tommy's backyard. Now it's his turn to take a deep breath. "She thought she was doing the right thing, and I don't dispute that — that she thought she was doing what was right for Jee, and for herself, and for us."

He takes another deep, shuddering breath, and looks back at Tommy with a wry look on his face. "But it sucked."

Tommy drops his head, curving his body towards the floor. Hiding his expression, his misty eyes, but from the flash Chim could see — he looks almost ashamed. Which wasn't Chim's intention, to make Tommy feel bad. He just wanted to lay it all out, share his perspective, share Buck's perspective.

"If she needed time, if she needed to slow down, hell — if she needed space — I just wish I could've been there to give it to her." Chim says, still careful to not reveal too much about his time separated from Maddie. Her journey. It was hers to tell, but he thinks the perspective could help Tommy.

Maddie was a runner, the person who leaves — and maybe Tommy is too. Maddie is Buck's sister, first and foremost — But Chim thinks it'd be good for them to talk to one another. She gets it. Just like he gets Buck, the person left behind. He hopes he's helping, telling Tommy this. Voicing his perspective.

"You chased after her?" Tommy asks, looking up at Chim, almost as if he's stating a fact, not voicing a question. They both know what the entirety of chased after implies.

"Of course." Chim replies, nodding. "I love her."

Tommy's eyes start to water again — not that they ever stopped — and Chim sees the light reflect through watery tears before Tommy bows his head again. Doesn't let him look, hides the way his face contorts as tears start to fall. His voice is thick and wet as he speaks.

"I love him, you know?" Tommy says, sounding all choked up, and Chim's heart clenches at the sound. He wraps his arm around his friend, and tugs gently, pulling him towards his side. "I didn't think it'd hurt this much."

Chim doesn't say anything, just holds Tommy as he starts to cry.

[anonomano]

Connection ~ Carlos Sainz

Prolouge

Mafia!Carlos Sainz x Fem,Arranged!Reader

Part one part two

synopsis: Carlos is forced into a marriage that he doesn’t want. But he isn’t the only unhappy one…

warnings: smut 18+ eventually, violence, bad writing this is my first time, lack of knowledge about the mafia

Carlos Sainz Sr. had just died. A heart attack. He was a well respected, and feared, man; the leader of the Sainz crime family. He left in his wake the opening of that position.

The man who would take that role is his son, Carlos Jr.

No one has seen Carlos in years, the story is that he fought with his father and left to travel the world. Sleeping his way through each hemisphere. The only one he kept in touch with was his youngest sister, they were inseparable as children and that closeness never really changed. But, after hearing the news of his fathers death, Carlos came home to fill the power vacuum and protect his family.

You were close with your family; your father was Sainz Sr.’s right hand man, and your brothers have worked closely with him for years. But your mother wanted to keep you out of the family business so you really knew nothing about it. You were innocent, so innocent that you were still a virgin, you wanted to wait till marriage. Your mother told you that one day you could find your prince charming, marry him, and spend your lives together.

When Carlos came back he was told that he needed to settle down, get married and have kids. He needed to carry on the family legacy and provide an heir in case anything happens to him. He was very unhappy about this.

“Why?! It doesn’t matter what I’m doing in my own life!” he shouted pacing aroud his fathers, his office. His mother was sitting on the desk watching him. She was still mourning, dressed in black with a veil covering her face, she wore the family pearls that his father gave her when they got married, her makeup and hair done perfectly as it always was.

“Carlos, sweetheart, it matters” she stated “it is no longer just your life, its the family’s” she stood walking over to him and placing her hands on his shoulders “you need a wife, someone who can take care of you, and a mother for your children” she took off the pearl necklace she was wearing, placing them on the desk “when your father and I got married we were in the same position, but it was the best thing we could have done… we got you” she cradles his face in her hands “and your sisters. We didn’t know each other before we got married but we grew to care about each other”

“Fine” Carlos resigned “Will you give me some time,? I need to go through some things… and think.”

He watches his mother leave the room perfectly put together. He never knew their marriage was arranged; he was always under the impression that they fell in love and got married. Did they even love each other? Was his mother forced into this life? He holds the pearls in his hand, perfectly polished, and rarely worn by his mother.

——————————————————————————

You were doing your hair in the mirror; tying a baby pink bow in. The pink perfectly matches the flowers on your dress. Your make up was done lightly, your mother didn’t like it when you wore too much. Some simple mascara and some pink lipgloss was almost too much for her.

A knock at your door startles you. “Darling?” it was your father “Can I come in?”

“Of course daddy!” you open the door, a smile on your face. “What do you need?” you question, cocking your head to the side like an innocent dog.

“Darling, we need to talk” he sits on your bed patting the place beside him “You know how Mr. Sainz just died?” you nod “Well his son, Carlos, is taking over the family buisness. And he needs someone to…share that responsibility with. We think… that person, should be you. Do you understand?”

“But, I don’t know anything about the family business.” You shake your head “you made sure of that. How could I help?” Your father stands, sighs and glaces around searching for the words.

“Darling…he needs a wife. I would like for you to marry him” you stare at him in shock “now I know your mother has always told you that you would fall in love and get married and maybe you will fall in love but this is about business and I need you to do this for me—“

“okay”

“—I have always provided for you and…okay? okay…okay… great I will tell your mother and send her up here to talk to you about…things” He kisses your forehead “Thank you, Darling, truly” he swiftly leaves the room closing the door behind him leaving you behind dreaming about a kindhearted man.

You knew nothing about Carlos Jr.; you barely knew of his existence. But, if he was anything like his father, who had treated you kindly, you would be happy.

[sillymercury]

In the first tags it says most movies/books are not meant to be torn apart but I disagree completely. In fact I think most books/movies are made to dissected and understood on a deeper level. Because whether you like it or not and whether the author meant to or not, books/movies have themes and messages and many people enjoy finding them.

I don’t think it smart to write something(esp things so popular) off as mindless entertainment bc your being fed a message even if you don’t know it. There is nothing wrong with enjoying a book despite whatever message is being sent but when you blatantly ignoring the fact that these things exist is how propaganda propagates. If you are being intentionally fed a narrative without knowing you are likely to internalize it on some level which can be particularly dangerous. The danger presents itself abundantly in this day and age especially when you see people who have such hard stances but cant tell you/explain where those stances originate. Sns thrives off of the want to ‘turn your mind off’ and just consume/enjoy, but that’s never what actually happens. Your subconscious is still processing information but since you’re not consciously dealing with it that leaves room for issues like anxiety, depression, and personality disorder. This seems off topic but ‘mindless consumption’ isn’t a thing, your brain keeps score even when you don’t.

Also a book can have multiple “messages” and you can like some and not the others while still enjoying the piece overall. When I truly love a piece of media I acknowledge is flaws and shortcomings and can see the issues with a story/message while still enjoying it thoroughly. An example for me is I enjoyed the book The Picture of Dorian Gray while recognizing and rejecting the way the characters/book discusses and depicts women.

Like in Nestas book specifically, the main themes are empowerment (specifically female) and growth. This book was my favorite in the series and yet I can still acknowledge all the things wrong with it. Main character were incredibly hypocritical throughout the book, verbal abuse was seemingly over looked/excused, Stockholm syndrome parallels, etc. I identify these things but that still doesn’t detract from my experience instead, adds to it.

Another thing I wanted to mention before bringing this to a close; authors. For the sake of not rambling due to personal feelings I’ll just say, there is nothing wrong with calling out behavior or publicly disagreeing with ideals when it come to public figures. How it’s handled, whether it works, or it’s longevity is a different conversation but there is nothing wrong with speaking out against people in the public eye/people who create mass consumed media.

I understand your take, and I agree people take things way to seriously, but I think your frustration may be displaced. I think the issue with ACOTAR fandom specifically is the same issue with most fandoms. People are delusional, mean, and spoiled. People identify to hard or personalize characters/celebs to the point it becomes an parasocial and problematic. People are also very spoiled in the sense that we feel entitled to the things we want, like we deserve them intrinsically and when there is the threat of not getting what you want (esp is fandoms when discussing this almost mob mentality) or someone challenges your belief/opinion people lash out and get nasty, even feeling personally wronged but a differing stance. When you bring all of these things together it can get nasty very quickly. I’ve been and am still in so many fandoms that I hardly interact with because so much content is toxic or rage bait or whatever. Platforms like Reddit or discord where you can have controlled conversation with a group of people just as dedicated to a topic as you, and you can discuss thoughts and opinions in (what should be) a safe space is an incredible experience but most platforms don’t have moderation that can harbor that so then your left with a mess of often times toxicity and division.

I rambled and diverged a little bit but I thought hard about what I had read and this is what I came up with. Also I feel I should say I’m not a lit major lol but I am educated and I work hard to form my own opinions while still listening to other people takes. And that this is not an attack on op this is pretty much my stream of consciousness after reading the post and I am open to discussion.

my hot take as to why the acotar fandom is a shit show is because too many people with english degrees infiltrated and cannot read a book simply to enjoy it, they must pick it apart and analyze it to the point of just tearing it, the characters and the author apart. and gullible people adopted that same mindset.

in simpler terms: too many people take it way, WAY too seriously lol. like this series is meant for entertainment. sarah didn’t write classic literature with underlying themes on morals and society that’s meant as think pieces. y’all do too much and can never just enjoy things. you’re like the cinephiles that cannot just watch a movie for entertainment purposes, you need citizen kane otherwise you’re shitting on everything because it’s not up to your snobbish standards

[bisexualtwinkk]

bff vi!arcane

queer! fem reader x vi from arcane

summary: you and vi are really close best friends, but she doen't know something quit important about you.

a/n: I can't get vi out of my mind.

it's almost impossible to be best friends for more than 5 years and not be close. you and vi went through a lot of fucked up situations together, being there for each other every day, getting to the point of living together after finishing college. some of your and her friends find it kinda suspicious, teasing both of you every time about being in love. everyone could see the way vi looked at you, with glistening eyes, and how you would do everything to make her happy and safe, from cooking her favorite food to take care of her wounds when she fought with random people when you two went out from drinks. but vi and you were oblivious of these things, continuing to believe you acted like a normal pair of best friends.

"I think I need a nap, vi" you yawned, feeling your eyes growing tired.

"my god, cupcake, can you at least cover your big mouth?" vi stood up, grabbing your arm to get you out of the couch.

"big my ass" she looked you up and down, with a smirk on her face, entering your room.

"I mean, it kinda is"

"that's why everyone think that we are a couple, vi! you're such a tease" you laid down under a blanket, moving closer to the wall, "big spoon or little spoon?"

"yeah, right, I'm the one asking about being cuddled or being the one who cuddles, genius" vi moved closer to you, turning around and grabbing your free arm, placing it on her waist, "which, by the way is a stupid question, I prefer being the little spoon, you should know it by now"

a laugh left you lips, getting even closer to vi, your faced buried in her neck, breathing slowly, "right, sorry about that" you squeezed her a little tight.

"does it bother you? the couple stuff, I know some people can feel uncomfortable and shit" her back got stiffer, almost like she was afraid of the answer.

"oh god, no, never"

"okey, I just thought it may be weird for a straight woman, that's all" your eyes got bigger and a loud laugh interrupted the silence of the room. "why are you laughing, you weirdo?"

"You must be joking!" vi turned around, almost being completely under your body, "vi, you really think I'm straight? like, heterosexual?" you whispered, a big smile decorated your face, looking at violet like the just said the most strange thing in the world.

"yeah?" her face showed how confused she was, "you are not? I mean, you didn't say you weren't, how would I know?" her eyes wonder your face, looking confused by how entertained you were by the situation.

"I'm not straight, vi, that's outdated" your finger tapped on her nose, getting on your old position again. "I'm queer, I think, at least, I just know I'm not straight." your fingers played with her shirt, "what about you?"

"haha, you are so funny, cupcake" vi closed her eyes, an involuntary smile forming on her face.

"we can talk about boys latter, if you want"

"oh, yeah, we can do that, pretty"

[l-starsz]

a/n: i know christmas was yesterday and this is probably a very silly little fic but oh well🙂

christmas day. i woke up excited. i was spending the day with my family, and billie had left me some presents to open. i was most excited to give my family their presents and to open my presents, especially the ones from my girlfriend. we spent the morning opening presents and just spending time together.

billie got me the most beautiful presents, i made sure that she didn’t get me loads or anything expensive because honestly the perfect christmas gift would’ve been just spending the day with her and the people i love. i wanted to get her presents though, and she argued that if i was getting her presents then she should be allowed to get me some.

we couldn’t spend christmas together since we were gonna be with our families all day. although i loved spending time with my family, i missed my girl. i wanted her there. i’d been so happy all day, but a tiny part of me just felt slight sadness because i missed her. and that feeling started growing larger as the day went on.

after a long day, i was sat in a quiet area on my own, i was exhausted, and a wave of sadness washed over me. why did i feel like this? i’d had such a good day and i still felt sad. i was surrounded by so many people who loved me, yet i still felt so lonely. i stayed there thinking about my feelings for a little while before i couldn’t take it any longer.

i quickly walked out of the room, rushing upstairs to the bathroom and letting small tears run down my cheeks. my makeup was getting ruined. how did i feel so sad on such a good day? why? i just let the tears run down my face until i was sobbing. that was when i decided i needed her. i’d needed her all day, but i was at my breaking point. i couldn’t take the feeling any longer.

i opened my phone and went to billies contact as quick as i could. once my thumb was hovering over the call button, i hesitated. i didn’t want to ruin her day just because i was sad. what if i ended up ruining her whole christmas. i didn’t want to do that. but she told me to call her if i needed anything. i didn’t know if this counted. i didn’t want to disturb her time with her family.

i sat there for almost 10 minutes trying to make up my mind, but in the end i called. i couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, and i couldn’t show my face while i was crying, the only way to help was to talk to her. small sobs left my mouth as the phone rang. i didn’t think she’d answer since i knew she was busy. but after a few rings, i heard her voice down the phone.

“hey angel, how’s things going? you having a good day hm?” her voice was gentle and caring, which made me miss her more.

“billieee.” i cried out as i tried to calm myself down, fingers playing with the fabric of my shirt.

“oh baby, what happened? why are you crying?” she spoke even softer, trying to comfort me through the phone.

i took a deep breath in and managed to calm down a little as i spoke.

“i feel really lonely billie. and i don’t know why. i’m surrounded by people who love me yet i still feel so sad and lonely. i wish you were with me.” i sniffled.

i was starting to get calmer since i was hearing her voice and it felt like she was here. it felt like she was closer.

“if you need me to come and pick you up right now you know i will.”

“but i don’t wanna just randomly leave when i’m meant to be spending time with my family. and i don’t wanna disturb your day by being sad.” i mumbled.

obviously i wanted her to come and get me, but i felt guilty.

“you are not disturbing anything. you can’t help feeling sad. you didn’t choose to feel this way my love. i just want to be here to give you all my love and support. how about we change our plans a little, yeah?”

“thank you.” i whispered, my voice breaking again as i spoke, “and what do you mean? how?”

“do you think it’ll help if i come and pick you up a little later tonight? then people will be leaving and you’ve spent time with them, i’ve spent time with my family, and then you can come here and spend the rest of your night with me and my family. does that sound good?” she spoke calmly down the phone.

“are you sure bil? will your family mind? do you mind?” i didn’t even realise i was asking so many questions.

“i wouldn’t of said it if it was a problem baby. i promise you that we want you here. i’ve been missing you all day too and i’d love if you could come over.”

i thought about it for a minute and then happily accepted. how could i say no? we spoke for a few more minutes before ending the call. i looked in the mirror to clean my makeup up a little bit, making myself look presentable once again before going back to where everyone was.

we all spoke for a little bit before i quickly told my mum that billie would be picking me to soon. surprisingly, she said that was fine, and although it felt like i was waiting for years, she showed up soon enough. as soon as i opened the door, i practically jumped into her arms and buried my face in her neck. she spun me around and held me close, making me giggle.

she came in to speak to my family for a little bit, then we went outside to her car. once we were in, we just sat there for a minute.

“i’ve missed you so much billie.”

we hadn’t had much time to see eachother that week. going from seeing eachother everyday to barely for an hour a day was difficult. it was only for the week of christmas since things were so busy for both of us, but it was still difficult.

“i missed you way more angel.”

“that’s impossible.” i mumbled as she began driving us to her house.

once we got there, i greeted her family and then we went to her room for a little bit. we laid in bed together as i relaxed in her arms. my head was hiding in her neck. my hands were holding on tight to her shirt. we stayed like that for a few hours, talking the whole time. everything felt peaceful with her.

eventually, maggie walked in the room.

“hey do you girls wanna watch a movie with us?”

i looked up at billie, then at maggie and i nodded. obviously billie agreed too and we went downstairs. i had a blanket wrapped around my shoulders to keep me warm. we cuddled up in the corner of the sofa as the movie started. throughout the movie, everyone chatted a little quietly to eachother, and before i knew it i was fast asleep in billies arms whilst the movie was still playing. i didn’t feel so lonely now.

(unfortunately yes i did still feel incredibly lonely on christmas even though i was surrounded by people who love me so um yeah that’s what gave me the inspiration for this😶)

[magnoliasandarson]

giver

Dick Grayson loves his siblings, but he's never quite sure to what degree that love is returned.

It would be fair for them not to love him. He has messed up more than his fair share over the years, spectacularly shattering trust, destroying bridges, and failing to make amends. He sees his mistakes reflected in their eyes every time they back away from a hug.

It kills him a little, feeling them pull away from him.

Each of his siblings has had a point where he was their favorite. They would gravitate to him at family gatherings, linger with him during team-ups, and turn his apartment into a pillow fort. He should've held on tighter during those times, should've never let them slip away.

He spends weeks planning their Christmas presents. They have to be perfect- it took guilt and outright bribery to ensure everyone would be at the Manor. It stung when Stephanie and Tim ignored his calls, almost as much as Jason slamming the door in his face. They all came around eventually, and Dick had to show them all how much he cared.

He started with Damian, simply because the boy never left his mind these days. It had been hard to walk away when Bruce came back, even harder not to run back and snatch up the kid every day since. Dick found the newspaper from the first night they went out as a duo, complete with a glossy picture of them on a rooftop. It was carefully framed and placed on top of a small stack of sketchbooks and watercolors. Dick tried to forget all of the art shows he had missed recently.

Duke received a new pack of trading cards and every article that spoke positively of the "We Are Robin" movement. In a moment of extreme sentimentality, he wrote a letter explaining what Robin meant to his family and just how proud he was of Duke for turning a family name into a wave of change for the city. Dick tried to forget how angry he had once been to see the child army running the streets.

Stephanie was easy enough, he interfered as Detective Grayson and got rid of her parking tickets. Well, that, and he interviewed people that had come forward after being saved by Spoiler, and recorded all of them explaining how they would never forget their hero. He compiled all of the recordings onto a modified comm, so if she ever felt doubt on patrol, she could be reminded of all the good she has done. Dick tried to forget how he had joined Bruce in trying to run her off when she briefly took up the Robin mantle.

Cass received new pointe shoes, complete with shiny pink ribbon, and a stack of cards Dick had collected from the Gotham Center for Deaf Children. Before Orphan and Black Bat, there had never really been a signing hero in Gotham. She gave them someone to admire, and Dick thought she should know. He placed the delicate shoes on top of the cards, and tried to forget how many of her performances he had skipped.

Tim... Dick could never apologize in any way that would matter to him. He stared at a row of cameras in a store and wondered when was the last time he had actually seen Tim take a picture. It had been his passion for so long... Had the boy outgrown it or had their lifestyle forced him to abandon it? Dick was determined that either way, his brother deserved joy, so he picked one Wally recommended and carefully stenciled the Red Robin logo onto the lens cover. Dick tried to forget how Tim couldn't stand to be in a room alone with him anymore.

Jason. His Little Wing made him want to weep. He went through hours of footage from his old camera, videos of the first time they went train surfing together, when he taught Jason to fly, when Jason taught him to skateboard- all from years ago. He sat in his apartment for hours, hating himself for realizing he doesn't truly know his brother anymore. He ends up breaking into Jason's place. The day after that, he has a large box filled with leather bound versions of all the paperbacks Jason had lying around. He attempted to read some of them, but landed on making little bookmarks for his brother, each with some little inside joke on it. Dick did all of that and tried to forget that his brother didn't think they were family anymore.

December 23rd, he loads all of the gifts into his shitty truck and wonders if any of them will get him anything.

It would be fair if they didn't, though.