#and carla just went with it for real

[darlingboydiaz]

we all said eddie baby-trapped buck when he wrote him into his will. i actually raise you: buck parent-trapped eddie right after eddie's abuela ended up in hospital in 2x04 when pepa told him that raising a kid alone is rough. buck saw that hot single dad and immediately said he's gonna be second dad.

[liferetainsitssparkle]

wish i found leon and ada believable as a couple bc the dynamic of action hero and antihero who steals shit from them inc. their heart and brain is so good but unfortunately there is nothing there. and there will continue 2 be nothing there as long as ada exists in perpetuity as the video game equivalent of the sexy green m&m

[hotshotsxyz]

too little, too late

(8x08 coda) (buddie) (1.2k) the episode chose violence and so did i :) spoilers for 8x08, and hey, guess what? this is my 100th 911 fic! it feels right that it's an evil one <3

The real estate agent has an irritating voice. It’s pitchy and run through with vocal fry, and if Buck has to listen to her talk for another second, he might actually tear his hair out. And it’s definitely about her voice. Nothing to do with the largely helpful information she’s handing over to Eddie like candy on Halloween.

“Anyway, we can touch base again once you’ve had a chance to look over those listings. I’m sure we’ll find something for both of you to love!” the realtor says.

Buck smiles. It feels brittle and fake.

“Thank you so much,” Eddie says with all the sincerity Buck can’t quite muster. He ends the call and sits back against the couch.

“That, uh—that went, um—” He’s choking on the positivity he’s trying so hard to exude. “—well,” he manages.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Seems easier than I thought it was going to be.”

Easy.

That’s—

Yeah.

“You know you—you don’t have to buy straight away,” Buck says as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not casually at all.

“Buck,” Eddie says with a sigh.

“I know!” Buck says, throwing his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Just—maybe you want to make sure, you know? Before it’s—it’s permanent.”

“I can’t keep missing out on his life,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck swallows. He knows. He knows! Knows it like he knows there’s going to be an Eddie-and-Chris shaped hole in his heart for the rest of his goddamn life.

“I don’t want you to,” Buck says, and it’s maybe the first honest thing that’s come out of his mouth since he sat down on Eddie’s couch.

Bile rises in the back of his throat as he realizes this might be one of the last times he gets to sit on this couch, in this house, with this man.

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

“Have you told Bobby yet?” Buck asks. His breath catches.

“No,” Eddie says.

“Oh,” Buck says in a rush of air. “That’s—” He wants to say good. He can’t say good. Eddie needs—he needs—

Eddie lifts his head from his hands and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to,” he admits. “I thought—”

“That he’d want to come back,” Buck supplies when Eddie doesn’t finish his thought.

He nods.

“He still—he could still—” Buck starts.

“He’s not going to change his mind.” Eddie cuts him off. “He doesn’t hate me. It’s worse than that. He doesn’t care.”

Buck’s chest feels tight. “He—he loves you, Eddie,” he says weakly.

“Maybe before, but—”

“He does,” Buck insists. “And—and if this is what you have to do to make sure that stays true I—I get it.” He does. He gets it. He’d do anything for Christopher. He’d—

It’s the worst feeling in the entire fucking world, but he’d give up Eddie for that kid. Is. Is giving up Eddie for that kid. A sob jumps up in Buck’s throat. He fights it back.

“I want to believe you,” Eddie says.

Buck knows that he doesn’t.

“Have you, um. Have you talked to Chris about this yet?” Buck asks, feeling a little bit like he’s just laid his neck across the base of a guillotine.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I—I’ve got to do this, whether he wants me to or not.”

All at once Buck’s angry. Angry at Eddie, angry at his parents, at fucking Kim, at himself, and maybe even a little bit at Christopher.

“Eddie, you—you told him he could come back!” He says, a little louder than he means to. “Doesn’t he deserve to know that’s not going to be an option anymore?”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s got—he’s got friends here, and—and Carla, and—” He can’t say it. He doesn’t have the right to say it, doesn’t have the right to feel like he’s already lost a limb and now they’re taking a lung, but— “and me,” he finishes quietly.

Something like devastation flashes across Eddie’s face. “Buck, I—”

“No,” Buck says quickly, standing up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have—I’m not—”

“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, following him as he retreats toward the door.

“I, um—I forgot, I have to—I promised Maddie,” he tries to lie.

“Please don’t go,” Eddie says, and god, how many times in Buck’s life has he yearned to hear someone say that to him and mean it. How many nights has he driven home from Eddie’s wishing he’d been asked to stay.

This thing building in his chest, this thing of anger and grief and regret—it hurts. Every breath he takes is a little more constricted, a little less effective.

Eddie looks at him, and Buck sees it. That thing he’s always wanted to see. That thing he didn’t even know he wanted from Eddie until right now and it’s—

There was a small, naïvely hopeful part of Buck that really still believe that if someone loved him enough, they’d stay. Eddie loves him, looks at Buck like he’ll break his heart when he walks out the door, and it still isn’t—

Eddie loves him, and it isn’t enough to make him stay.

Buck is in love with him, he realizes, and it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s leaving. Like Abby and like Tommy, except Buck didn’t know how much hurt he hadn’t even discovered yet, because this isn’t Abby or Tommy, it’s Eddie, and Eddie—

Eddie’s supposed to be the one that stays.

Buck shakes his head and shuffles back until the doorknob is digging into his spine. “I have to,” he breathes, a grossly distorted reflection of what neither of them has quite managed to say.

Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to ask again, like he’s going to beg Buck to stay, to show him all these awful pieces of his heart that he’s just found so he can remind himself that it’s not too much to leave behind.

Buck’s out the door before he can say another word.

He throws himself into the Jeep and all but fishtails it out of Eddie’s driveway. He makes it three streets away before he has to pull over.

The first sob surprises him with its softness; the second with its violence. He wraps his arms tight around his stomach and, god, he tries to breathe. But there’s not—there’s not enough oxygen in the entire world to make up for the way his lungs refuse to expand in the face of this loss.

He has to—he can’t—Eddie needs him to pull it together. To—to help him. To support him, and god help him, Buck will. There’s nothing Eddie could ask of him that he wouldn’t give. Nothing Eddie could do, Buck’s realizing, to make him love him any less.

Hot tears spill down Buck’s cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath and wipes them away. His vital organs are crumbling, so what?

He’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to keep Eddie warm.

[gucciwins]

Y/N just wants Harry to like her.

Word count: 5964

A/N: Friends!!!!! I am sorry to have disappeared but I am back. Yes, I am aware this is a Halloween/October story but you're getting it now mid November (that has been going by fast). I won't work on any holiday stories because I have no idea what to write. So if you have an idea and want me to write it feel free to shoot me an ask.

Now happy reading! I love you

+

Many people go to work ready to return home, but not Y/N. No, she walks in every day with a smile and a pep in her step. She greets her coworkers by name and occasionally brings baked goods she knows everyone will enjoy. Y/N loves her job, and she’s happy to go every day.

Y/N went from working in a job she hated because it was filled with men constantly belittling her and gaslighting her that she was doing her job wrong when she was actually excelling. It all got to be too much, and Y/N decided to quit. Thank goodness she did because soon into her job search, she received an email from Carla Crain asking her if she’d be interested in joining her company. Y/N went to the interview, and after basically being pitched her dream job, she accepted and entered as head engineer. 

She’d be lying if she wasn’t nervous starting, but the people Carla had hired all shared the same values on work and life. Y/N knew she’d be in safe hands. The company is small but slowly growing. It allows for every employee to get to know each other and everyone to remember that together, they can be successful. Y/N had been at the job for two years and, with time, brought new coworkers. 

There is Estrella, who loves to talk to you about astrology, ironically enough. She states that the invisible string theory is real and that if everyone tracked it, they would notice just how small the world is. 

Carmy has a tough exterior, but once anyone gets him talking, he never stops. He loves chatting about his family and his pet Pitbull named Daisy. 

Maeve is petite, and every other month comes in with a new color in their hair. Y/N enjoys it when everyone in the office places bets on what it will be. 

Tatum is from Scotland and loves to remind everyone when they all go out for drinks on the weekend. 

Chessy is the only one who works remotely, but when she comes in, she is always laughing in the office. They also all get a basket of fresh fruit and vegetables from her garden. 

Overall, Y/N knows she had the best coworkers and wouldn’t change her job for the world, but as their company grows, so does the need in their team. The newest hire is Harry Styles, who has come in as a computer technician to help develop their website and also help with any internal security. Honestly, all she knew was that it was a complex job. 

Harry was on the quiet side. She tried to start conversations with him, but he always seemed to brush her off. At first, Y/N wondered if she should take it personally but soon learned he did that to everyone. Even though he didn’t open up to them, they still invited Harry to join them. 

The thing was, he rejected all their dinners. Y/N loved going to a Korean BBQ Maeve introduced them to, and Harry claimed not to eat meat (not that she didn’t think it wasn’t true. Chessy was vegetarian, after all.) They would go to a bar and share a few drinks when they knew they would all be having a long weekend off. Harry always claimed he had an early morning. It didn't matter if they offered to meet earlier. Y/N’s favorite nights were trivia nights that happened at a local brewery. Y/N was a beat, especially in history. Harry declined, and this one hurt her the most.

 Everyone would ask Harry to join. 

Karaoke. Can’t hold a tune.

Bowling. Too loud. 

It seems there was an excuse for everything.

Everyone began to stop inviting him out, and while Y/N didn’t enjoy being told no, she would send notes to the office with the time and place of what they would be doing. She’d always keep an eye on the door, but Y/N went home disappointed each time.

The thing was, Y/N was determined to make a friend out of Harry. She soon learned large public settings must be overwhelming for him and decided to find a new way to approach him. Everyone took lunch at the same time in the office except for Harry. Sometimes, they all ate at the sub shop across the street. Most times, Y/N brought food from home, and she cooked. While she liked eating out, Y/N preferred a home-cooked meal. She caught Harry taking his lunch half an hour later than her and used that to her advantage. 

They had a conference that always remained empty as everyone preferred the main lounge. Harry went in there every day for his lunch hour. One day, Y/N walks in, smiles at him, and sits as far away as she can. She made sure to only be there for ten minutes. The next day, she stayed for twenty and wished him a nice lunch when she left.  

Slowly, Harry begins to spare her glances, but Y/N keeps to herself until the day she sits across from him. 

“Hi, Harry. Is it okay for me to sit here?” 

No answer. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” 

He fidgets with his fork. 

“I saw a lime bike out front. Did you ride that today?” 

Harry looks at her briefly before staring back at his plate. 

“I’ve always wanted to try one, but I’m honestly scared of being hit by a car. Chessy lets me ride hers when I go down to visit her. She’s got beautiful trails. You’d probably enjoy it.” 

Y/N thinks that’s enough for today and excuses herself. She doesn’t realize Harry noticed she didn’t take a bite of her lunch. When she goes back to her desk after using the restroom, she finds three chocolate chip cookies sitting on her desk. Y/N rushes to try one, doesn’t even think of who delivered them or that a green-eyed man was standing right outside waiting to hear her reaction. 

With time, it seems Harry is coming to appreciate Y/N’s presence. He has never expressed it, but she knows because he nods when he agrees to something she says or tightens the hold on his fork when Y/N shares something upsetting. Y/N had not gotten more than two words out of him. At this point, Y/N felt like Harry knew everything about her; all she knew was that he had the most beautiful eyes, and his hair always looked soft. 

One day, after many lunches together, she finds Harry reading a book. Y/N knows he might want quiet, but her curiosity gets the best of her. 

“Any good?”

Harry looks up and grimaces. “Think it’s really boring.” 

Y/N laughs because she wasn’t expecting that response. “Then put it down.” 

He shakes his head. “Don’t like not knowing the ending.”

Y/N shrugs, “if you don’t like a book, I wouldn’t put myself through the torture of it all. Skip to the end if you're curious.” She understands she spoke too much and excuses herself. 

The next day, Harry is sitting in his usual spot, but this time, a new book is in his hand. Y/N bites back a smile. 

“What’s this one about?”

“My sister recommended it,” he defends. 

Y/N isn’t halted by his harsh tone. “What’s it about?” 

“Well, it’s Pride and Prejudice.” He shows her the book cover. 

“Like the movie?” Y/N asks.

Harry laughs, and Y/N feels successful. His laughter rings in her ears. It’s a lovely sound, and she wishes to hear it more. “Yeah…I like the movie.” 

“Me too,” she gushes. “Do you think I’d like the book?”

He frowns, “if you like Jane Austen.” 

“Might have to pick it up next time I’m in the shops.”

+

Their interactions are solely during their lunches but sometimes spills out during work. Y/N seemed to have an issue with her computer and radioed IT. She needed to submit her document, but her desktop appeared to freeze whenever she opened a new file. Harry knocked on her door, and she welcomed him in. Y/N explained the issue, and Harry was quick to get to work. It was only a few minutes when she noticed that her document was open and her computer wasn’t having a meltdown.

“Thank you so much, Harry!” Y/N cheers, knowing he saved her. 

Harry shrugs because it’s his job. “You have a nice photo.” He’s pointing to her picture frame on her desk. It’s a picture of her and a dog in Iceland at the end of her hike. It was taken back when she was nineteen years old. 

“Thank you. I took that on my first solo trip.” She bites her lip, hoping Harry takes the bait. 

“Where to?” He asks curiously. 

She silently cheers, “Iceland.”

“Is that your dog?” 

“I actually found him mid-hike and took him back with me. I hoped to see his owner on the trail, but there was no luck. He didn’t even seem worried. Once I returned to the car park, his owner was there. After that hike, I decided I liked the company of a dog and returned home to adopt Tutter, a Jack Russel Terrier who loves to play fetch.”

“Why isn’t Tutter on your desk?” 

Y/N feels her face flush, “now, don’t be mean. I love my son, but that trip taught me I can do anything I set my mind to, whether alone or with company.”

Harry gives her the slightest smile. “I-I learned Italian because I always dreamed of having an Italian home.”

Y/N’s eyes brighten. Harry is opening up to her, and instead of pushing, she offers more of herself. “I’ve dreamed of visiting. The Amalfi coast is my dream to swim in. Silly, I know,” she brushes off, trying to downplay her excitement. 

Harry doesn’t let her. “You’ll make it.”

He finally excuses himself. Y/N is happy for the rest of the day because she realizes Harry is allowing her in.

+

September means the preparations for Halloween have begun. It starts with little things, from coasters and mugs to the occasional treat. One day, a tiny spider sits on his desk for a second. Harry believed it was real until it began to glow purple. Harry kept it on his desk next to his sticky notes. He doesn't do anything about it; there’s no need. By the second week, the office is entirely decorated. Harry admits a few decorations have scared him, especially the skeleton in the corner of the restroom.

It’s a quiet day when he’s walking by the break room on his way to the secluded office to have lunch when he hears people talking. Harry pauses because he hears Y/N’s voice mixed in with everyone else. 

“But it seems like he doesn’t like us,” Harry hears quietly. 

“It’s hard,” Y/N defends. “You’re all extroverts. It can be overwhelming.” 

Harry knows she’s trying for them to understand.

“But Carla is all about unity in the office. This is a concern.”

“It’s not, Carmy.” Y/N shuts him down, clearly upset she had to defend him.

Harry decides he’s heard enough and decides to eat lunch alone in his car. He’s thankful it was a sandwich and nothing he had to heat up. For the entire lunch and the rest of the day, all he thinks about are the words of his coworkers. 

Y/N looked for Harry, excited to talk about a book she started, but Harry was nowhere to be found. She wouldn’t have been concerned, but it’s clear no one saw him since before lunch. She wishes Harry could confide in her even if a fraction of what she shares with him/ 

The next day, everyone walks into the office at their usual time, everyone making their rounds together to the break room to prepare their coffees and store their lunch in the fridge. When Y/N walks in, she sees her coworkers huddled around the table and peeks around them to see what has captured their attention. There on the table is a box of Halloween cookies from a bakery uptown with a note attached. 

Enjoy - HS

Y/N lets a smile take over her face. She knew Harry cared about them but understood why he finally did something. She tells her coworkers they owe him an apology, and they all agree. Y/N makes sure to head to Harry’s office and thank him for the cookies. Harry tells her it’s nothing. She bounces away to her office, where Estrella, Carmy, Maeve, and Tatum are standing outside her door. 

“Can you come with us? Feel like he likes you.” Tatum tells her. 

Y/N sighs and tells them to follow her. Once again, she knocks on his door, and they all file in when he welcomes her in. Harry looks at them confused. 

“Uh, is there an issue?” Harry asks, concerned. 

Carmy starts, “we want to apologize if you overheard us yesterday.” 

“Right,” Harry sighs, knowing it might be a good time to share with them. If he trusted Y/N and she trusted them, he knew he could also start to. 

“It was wrong of us,” Maeve continues. “Y/N raves about how smart and nice you are, but we don’t get to see that. We’re sorry.” 

Everyone else repeats the sentiment while Harry looks at Y/N, who offers him an encouraging smile. She must know his anxiety is through the roof. 

Harry takes a deep breath, “right, uh.” He looks down at his shoes, untied lace on his black Adidas. “I struggle with social anxiety and new environments. It’s better than when I was a kid, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed even more when being the new guy.” 

“No worries. We get that,” Tatum expresses. “Estrella gets bad migraines.” 

“Don’t air other people’s personal stuff,” Y/N reminds them. 

“We’re sorry,” they offered one last time. “Thanks for the cookies.” 

After that, they hurried out while Y/N stayed behind. 

“I wanted to apologize,” he begins.

“You don’t–” Harry cuts her off. “You’ve made me feel comfortable.”

Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “Not enough, it seems.” 

“It can just be too much sometimes.”

“I-I get panic attacks.” Y/N shares, surprising herself. “When I overwhelm myself, it can happen. It’s uncommon and has not happened at work, but I understand.” 

“Thank you for sharing,” Harry tells her honestly. “Lunch?” 

“See you in a bit then.”

+

Through September, Y/N and Harry have lunch together every day. They read together, Harry more into classic literature, and Y/N loving to devour a juicy romance that has her pausing every few minutes, trying her best not to scream because the love interest brushed hands. Some days, Y/N will do a sudoku game while Harry does the daily crossword. Y/N likes to solve the Wordle of the day and most times asks Harry for help if she fears she might not get it. Some days, Y/N brings in her laptop during lunch because she is behind and needs to catch up. Harry reminds her to relax. He knows it’s easier said than done, so he tells her about the book he’s reading or asks about her dog and the snacks he eats. 

Before she knows if they’ve made it to October. One of the best months of the year. Y/N loves planning events, and this is one she wishes Harry would say yes to. She knocks on his office door, and Harry freezes, staring at his computer screen. He glances at the calendar; it's the first Monday of the month, and Harry knows they’ve planned a fun event. 

Harry is practicing his excuse when Y/N walks in with a bright smile, wearing a “Great Pumpkin” shirt with Snoopy and Charlie Brown. She has told him it’s her favorite movie to watch during the month and “The Conjuring” Harry wasn’t sure how the sweetest girl he knew could handle a horror film like that. He had told her she was fearless.

“Hi, Y/N, pretty shirt.” 

Y/N looks down at it as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. She beams at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry!” 

Harry asks how her day is going and shares how there was traffic on the way down and how she didn’t have time to stop by her favorite coffee shop because there was a line out the door. “Pumpkin spice isn’t even that good, H. I mean, it’s okay, but I wanted my coffee.”

He laughs at her pouting and promises to make her one during lunch. She perks up at his mention of their shared time together. 

“Speaking of our time together. We plan to go to a haunted pumpkin patch in the next town over if you want to join us. It’s two weeks from now, so it's the 21st.” Harry could hear the excitement in her voice and didn’t think he could say no to her.

“Everyone is going?”

“We invited everyone, but only Carmy, Estella, Maeve, Tatum, and myself are going. Carla was not for it. Dan is warming up to us but still says no. Though he did agree for trivia next week.”

Before he can stop himself, he says, “yes.”

“You will?” Y/N answers surprised. 

“Mhm…uh, it sounds like fun,” he says unconvincingly.

Y/N’s smile brightens, “I’m not hung on haunts, but they’ve got amazing apple cider you’ve got to try with me.” 

“Happy to join,” he tells her honestly. “Let me know the ticket cost or if we need to purchase our own.”

She nods eagerly. It’s clear Harry has just made her day. 

+

The day comes faster than he’s ready, and while a part of him is excited, Harry feels his nerves will get the best of him. Y/N had told them no one was dressing up in costume and even went as far as to send him a photo of her outfit to assure him she wasn’t playing a joke with him. She was wearing bell bottoms with a Mickey Mouse in a pumpkin shirt. She told him it was his favorite to wear each year. 

Harry knew it would be cold, so he wore a simple Halloween shirt in his closet and loose-fitting jeans. His jacket in his car he knew would keep him warm throughout the night. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone (only Y/N) but also wanted to look nice outside of the office for once. When Harry parked, Y/N told him she’d wait by the entrance for him, and he couldn’t miss her as she had a cute pumpkin headband on.

It seemed Y/N spotted him, too, because she rushed towards him. “Hi, Harry,” she greeted with a cheery smile.

“Hi, you look lovely,” he offered her a small compliment that made his hands sweat.

“You’re too sweet. Come on, we were waiting on you.” She grabs his hand and pulls him along to where everyone else is. 

Everyone offers their greeting, and he receives a few compliments on his tame outfit. It’s an old Halloween shirt he got at a vintage shop in New Orleans five years ago. His sister went on a trip and asked him to join. Harry could never say no to her. 

Harry notices everyone begins to drift off into conversations, but Y/N stays by his side. He takes the time to admire her as she looks around at all the decorations. There are a lot of people, but it seems they are heading to the pumpkin patch. There are stalls selling sweet treats, and he keeps in mind to buy Y/N a cider, remembering she mentioned loving it. Harry has always thought being in a relationship to be intimidating. He loves love but struggles to put himself out there, to allow someone else to get to know him, but here is Y/N, who managed to worm her way into his life, knocking down all of his walls. 

Harry likes Y/N.

It’s something he took a long time to figure out, but when he realized the excitement of seeing her each morning, he looked forward to it. He let it consume him, but he had no idea if she could feel the same way. 

“Did you drive here, Harry?” Y/N asks, breaking their silence. 

“I did,” he answers. 

“Do you think you could maybe take me home?” She brushes her hair out of her face. “I came with Tatum, but she’s been wanting to take the time to connect with Estella, if you know what I mean,” Y/N gestures to them kissing on hay bales. 

Harry had no idea that there were feelings between them. “I can do that, Y/N.” 

“Great!” She cheers gratefully. “I owe you an apple cider, then.” 

Y/N eagerly walks them to the stand, and before she can pay for both, Harry slips the kind older lady a twenty walking away with their drinks. Y/N stays behind, shocked, but quickly catches up, pouting at Harry. “Harry, I was going to pay.”

He shook his head, “my mum would have my head if I let you pay.”

Y/N bends her head, careful to take a sip of the warm drink. “Well, thank you.”

Maeve bounces over to them. “Hi beauties, we’re ready to start if you all are.” 

Harry eyes Y/N, waiting to see her response. Y/N offers her friend a large grin, and Harry agrees he’s ready. He throws away their ups, and once he finds Y/N with the group, he slithers to stand behind her. Y/N offers him a tense smile as the group tries to decide who will lead. 

“I can go in front,” Harry offers, sensing no one wanting to make the first move. Everyone thanks him and heads to the first maze. Y/N informs him it’s once based on the catacombs in France. 

“There’s a movie based on the catacombs,” Y/N shares as they walk together.

“As Above So Below,” Harry says. “It spooked me.” 

“You’ve seen it,” she laughs, holding onto his arm for a second, unable to contain her excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s a good one,” he agrees. 

They fall into silence as the chatter of their coworker fills the air. Harry sees Y/N get fidgety, but she’s smiling as she leads the way to the short line. “I’m actually really nervous,” she tells Harry. 

“We’ll be fine. I got you,” he assures Y/N.

Harry extends his hand, and she accepts it. He intertwines their fingers and pulls her along as the line moves slowly. Y/N does her best not to think about the feeling of his hand, but it fits perfectly between hers. She feels her hand begin to sweat and wants to pull it away, but Harry has a firm grip on her. 

“Is it okay?” Harry nods, gesturing to their hands. 

“Safe, uh, I feel safe.”

The worker asks how many, and Y/N peeks behind Harry to tell her six. Harry is grateful Y/N knows when to take charge because while he can lead a scary maze and knows everyone is dressed in costumes, he still feels nervous speaking to strangers. Harry squeezes her hand once in thanks. She gives him two quick squeezes in return.

Harry guides them in. Y/N lets go of his hand to hide behind Harry, her hands on his shoulder as she peeks behind him. There is a group ahead where she can hear the people in front screaming, which allows her to prepare for the scare, if that is even possible. 

Her eyes widen in amazement as she takes in the darkness of the building. Everything is covered in black cloth. She can see the spots where actors will jump out. Y/N mumbles an apology to Harry for holding on to him tight. Estella is behind her, screaming at everything that moves. Harry steps through the curtain, and she feels her hold on him loosen. As she is stepping closer to reach him, a man screams in her face, making her rush forward and propel Harry into a wall. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Y/N apologized repeatedly as Harry rushed them to finish the maze. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and knew she needed to calm down. One look at Harry, and he rushed her to a dark corner, not concerned about their friends. 

“Y/N? I’m okay. You’re okay.” Harry tried assuring her.

She repeated it in her head. They were okay. They got out of the dumb maze, and Harry wasn’t hurt. It took her a few minutes to realize she had a panic attack. Y/N had not even felt it coming and didn’t think a haunted house would trip her into one, but with all the overthinking she had been doing, it made sense it led to this.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Y/N bashfully looks away from him. She can’t believe she embarrassed herself in front of him like this. 

“No apologies,” he brushes her off and doesn’t ask her any questions, only to ensure she is okay. 

They rejoin the group after ten minutes by the looks of everyone's sympathetic smiles. She knows they saw her freak out, but they’re her friends. She knows she’s in safe hands with everyone, especially Harry.

“What’s the next maze?” Y/N asks cheerfully. 

And so they continue on. 

The next maze is much smoother than the first. Carmy leads, tucking Harry and Y/N in the middle with Tatum and Estella in the back. That order seems to comfort Y/N for the next few mazes. Each worker makes her scream but then falls into giggles when Harry traces comforting shapes on her hand. It takes her mind off these scarers trying to get her to scream and instead focus on the gentle touches of her crush. 

While doing the mazes is fun, Y/N is soaking up talking to Harry in line. They’re in a new environment where they do not need to discuss work. She feels free to ask him anything, but sometimes she is unsure where to start. Y/N doesn’t know if she wants to hear about his weekend plans or ask him about his favorite movie or who his favorite Muppet character is? 

Talking to Maeve and everyone else is easy because she’s gone out with them. She knows them personally, but with Harry, he always kept that guard up, and now she’s unsure what to do if he decides to keep it up. 

To her surprise, Harry always starts the conversation with her. Harry shares about a new show he started watching and how it makes him anxious for the main character when they do something out of character. When he asks Y/N if there is a show she recommends, her mind goes blank, and the first thing that comes to mind is “Fleabag.” 

“It’s the saddest but most comforting show I have ever seen,” Y/N gushes. 

“With Phoebe Waller-Bridge?” 

“Mhmm…the second season has Andrew Scott. Irish treasure.” 

“Paul Mescal,” he adds. 

“Hozier.” 

“Saoirse Ronan,” they say in unison before falling into fits of giggles. 

“You’ve got taste, Styles.” 

“As do you.” 

The line moves, and they change conversations to talk about the best musicals they’ve seen. Y/N swears “Waitress” is the best thing created, but Harry tells her “Moulin Rouge” is his favorite. Y/N loves how easily the conversation with Harry seems to flow. He feels like a long-lost friend. Someone who once was in her life has now found his way back to her. 

Not only is he getting along with her, but everyone is getting to see the Harry she had come to know. The one who makes cheesy jokes and loves to hear every detail of the story being told. It turns out he and Maeve frequent the same record store. There’s a Stevie Nicks vinyl Harry is on the hunt for, and Maeve promised to keep an eye out for him. Tatum learns Harry can play guitar and asks him to show them sometime. Something he agreed to with pink cheeks. Y/N knew tonight was a big step for Harry, and she was glad everyone made him feel comfortable.

As the night was coming to an end, the maze lines got shorter, and the more Y/N screamed. It made her laugh right after, but still not her favorite part of the night. Before the cold can settle in, they all call it a midnight night. Tatum and Estella head out hand in hand. Y/N can’t wait for the details of that on Monday. Carmy is telling Harry a story, so Maeve uses the opportunity to remind Y/N to make a move.

“It’s now or never, girlfriend.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please don’t pressure me on this.” 

“Y/N that man is, head over heels for you. If I was antisocial this is not an event I would ever do. Unless someone I fancied asked.” 

Y/N toes her food in the sand and, in a low voice, asks, “do you really think he likes me?” 

Maeve smiles, brushing Y/N’s hair out of her eyes. “That man lit up every time your eyes were on him. I don’t know Harry as well as you do, but I can notice a guy with a crush from miles away. Trust me on this.” 

Y/N backs down, relaxing, “okay.” 

“Good. Now text me when you get home. Carmy’s got me.” Maeve gives her a tight hug and then pulls Carmy away from Harry. 

He walks over to her with a shy smile on his face. “Have a good time?” 

“The best,” she tells him. “Though I might need another apple cider. Think my heart needs it.”

“By all means, lead the way.” 

After getting one last warm apple cider, they reach Harry’s car. It’s an electric car because he’s conscious of his environmental impact and knows one person can go a long way into the future. Harry opens Y/N’s car door and waits until he sees her seated and buckled to close her door. As he gets ready to drive off, he turns on the heater, knowing if he’s cold, Y/N must be too. 

The car ride starts off quietly, Y/N guiding him every so often when to make a turn. Y/N sees her favorite coffee shop and knows she is almost home. “That was fun,” Harry starts. “I’m happy I went.” 

“Mhmm…it was a good time. Glad you joined us,” she tells him honestly. 

Harry notices at a red light that she’s fidgeting with her hands and thinks he might still be cold. “Do you need me to turn up the heater?” 

Y/N shakes her head, “no, sorry, I’m fine.” 

Harry drives down a few more streets when Y/N tells him to turn left. “It’s the third one on the right.” 

He parks right outside her driveway. From here, he can see her decorations hung up. It’s decorated charmingly. It’s clear no scaring would happen here. She’s got two pumpkins outside her door. One has stars carved all around; the other is a cat on a witch’s broom. Bat lights are hanging up the railing of the steps. She even has a few inflatables. His favorite has to be the one of Mickey Mouse as a vampire.

“Thank you for driving me home. I appreciated it.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Harry gets out of the car and opens her door. 

“Let me walk you up.” 

Y/N feels her cheeks burn and leads the way. 

“We’re planning trivia soon,” Y/N says, testing the waters. 

“Hmm…only if you’re on my team.” 

“We would all be on the same team,” his flirting going over her head.

Harry’s face turns pink, “uh, right.” 

She laughs, placing her hand on his bicep. “Only joking.”

Y/N pulls him in, whispering good night, except when she pulls away, she locks eyes with his emerald eyes, and it’s like she’s in a trance. She feels herself leaning in closer, and before she knows it, Y/N presses her lips to Harry in an airy kiss.

She pulls back, shocked. “Sorry,” she breathed out. “I-I should have asked.” 

“Ask me,” he pleads. 

“What?” Y/N isn’t sure if she heard him correctly. 

Harry doesn’t care anymore. He raises his hand to rest on her cheeks. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” 

She feels how close he is. She can feel his breath mixing with hers. “Yes.” 

When their lips meet, Y/N swears she feels time stop. Harry is starting slow as he begins to learn what she likes.  Y/N places a hand on his chest, needing to have a secure hold as she feels him take her breath away. Her emotions are all over the place. His lips are smooth as they move against hers in a dance that feels like they’ve done a hundred times before. Harry deepens the kiss, pushing her up against the door, making Y/N grab a fistful of his shirt, not wanting him to pull away. Y/N lets herself get wrapped up in all her feelings because she knows that a kiss this special means it won’t be her only one, and she finally allows all her feelings to pour into the kiss. 

Y/N isn’t sure how long they spent kissing outside her door. It seems she’s lost track of time since she got a taste of Harry. “I don’t want you to go,” she mutters against his lips when she feels him begin to pull away.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he promises. 

“Too far.

Harry laughs, “you can call me tomorrow when you wake up.” Knowing she likes to sleep in, he would rather not wake her up. 

“Okay,” she whispers in defeat. 

“Good night,” Harry takes a step back. 

Y/N bites her lip and gives him a wave. “Do you want a kiss goodbye?” 

Harry can’t say no.

+

Monday morning, Y/N walks in with a large smile. It makes everyone stop and stare. She makes her rounds, wishing everyone a good morning, and saves Harry for last. 

“Hi, Harry.” She chirps. 

“Morning,” he answers timidly. 

Y/N pouts because he didn’t even look at her. She wanted to see his beautiful eyes. “So I was thinking…” she trails off. 

Harry turns, giving her his undivided attention, and Y/N’s smile widens. “How does a date sound to you?”

“A date?” He echoes. 

“With me,” she giggles.

“Best thing I've heard all day.”

Y/N claps her hands together, “wonderful.” 

“How does this weekend sound?” 

“Too far,” she teases. “Saturday?” 

“I’ll pick you up,” he promises. 

“Good. Good.” Y/N lingers by his door. 

“Yes, love?” 

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but doesn’t look away from him. “Are we still on for lunch?” 

Harry gives her a dimpled grin, “I’ve got a new book for us to discuss.” 

Y/N tells him she can’t wait and walks away. Harry watches her go, and as if she can feel his stare on her, she turns around and gives him a wink. Harry knows he’s way in over his head with someone as amazing as Y/N, but he can’t wait to prove each day to her how much he deserves to be with her.

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, still on the Christopher is what makes buddie and the way that no other love interest will ever stand a chance because they would need to make Buck step out on Chris for it to work and that's unforgivable saga (read more here). If you've been here long enough, you know I refuse to believe they accidentally set up buddie, but while talking to @the-tomorrow-road, she actually gave a reasonable explanation based on the circumstances surrounding the way Maddie and Eddie were introduced. We know that Eddie was written for Ryan and he was supposed to be in one episode and then they liked him so much he ended up getting the full season and we know Maddie and Eddie were supposed to be a thing initially until Jen decided that Maddie should be with Chim. Making a lot of assumptions, if they had the intention of making Eddie a love interest for the dispatcher, there are stuff that were added to Eddie's character planning that give him a love interest introduction that they probably didn't bother changing once madney became the way to expand Maddie's relationship with the firehouse. One of the things here is making Eddie a single parent of a kid with special needs who needs help, which also conveniently gives them a way to keep Carla a side character. But since they never pulled the trigger of Eddie meeting someone through Buck, he ends up being a love interest for Buck purely by accident. Since Buck is no longer a bridge for connection, the connection happens with Buck. And obviously, the chemistry between Ryan and Oliver helped a lot.

But it all goes back to Eddie and how they created and established Eddie. Audiences don't like imperfect mothers and Eddie was always written as a widower archetype. Buck is not necessary for Christopher if Shannon is in the picture, so much so that the show gives Buck Ali when Shannon comes back (and break them up as soon as Shannon dies), but at no point Shannon had real chances because abandoning Chris for 2 years is unforgivable, death is the only way out for her in the narrative. And to have Eddie allow Buck to help him in ways he's not allowing Shannon, creates that expectation for Buck to be involved with Christopher that they fully solidify during the beginning of season 3. Even though they have been showing that contrast since s2, with the way Eddie is hiding Shannon from Chris just to take Buck with them on a family outing and having a total stranger assume they are a family. Since Eddie was written into a space that was created with Buck's love interest being gone, they kinda slipped Eddie into that space because of the circumstances even though probably that wasn't their intention. It was just a combination of chemistry and the fact that Eddie ends up interacting with Buck more because Chim has Hen and Maddie, and Hen has Chim and Karen, and Bobby has Athena.

And I will be honest, I keep trying to find an equivalent situation to see the difference on how they are handled, but media doesn't really do single fathers with unredeemable mothers that allow for a third person to step up as a parent the way Buck did (and in a single mother with an unredeemable father situation, it is always obvious that the best friend turned co-parent is a love interest). Sure, they only fully commit to it once Shannon is dead, but Buck inserting himself into Eddie problems as a way to establish Eddie's problems, makes it so Buck is part of the solution in a very permanent way. Even more considering they fully leaned into it as the seasons went on. Christopher being part of the equation when he has a mother who abandoned him puts Buck in a space where he can't leave Chris and it also puts Eddie in a space where he can't deny Chris a relationship with Buck. So you can't separate the two of them in the way they need to make other love interests work. The way they handled the Chris of it all is what forced them into a space where there's just no way to make other relationships work. Because they would be forced into a situation where they need to get Buck out of Eddie's will and then make Buck step out on Chris. And they put too much into making buddie partners to fully commit to splitting them up.

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy 

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)

Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

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

May 2024

“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”

When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.

“Butter-”

You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.

—---

Get out (LEAVE!)

Right now

It’s the end of you and me

It’s too late (NOW!)

And I can’t wait 

For you to be gone…

Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.

“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”

You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.

How could everything still hurt this much? 

Carla wasn’t having it.

“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”

Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.

You sighed.

“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.

“I just… Can’t…”

“So what just happened?”

Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.

“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”

“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”

Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.

“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”

“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”

You interrupted Carla.

“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”

“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”

You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.

But why? And what did it matter now? 

“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”

“I don’t have to do-”

Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:

“Teen drinking is very bad.”

Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:

“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”

The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.

One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...

…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.

This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.

—-----

Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance. 

Tonight was the night.

And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.

When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.

Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.

He wanted to fight with you. 

And he wanted to make it up to you. 

His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.

—---

You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.

I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now

You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.

Just like it did 20 years earlier. 

—---

May 2004

On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,

“You look amazing.”

You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.

Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy���s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.

You were caught up.

Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.

In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.

And Sy was right there with you.

“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.” 

He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.

“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”

Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.

You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.

“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”

You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.

“You’re right.”

Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you. 

“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”

You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.

“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”

You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear. 

Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.

“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”

You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.

“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”

You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.

You gasped.

“Sy!”

You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.

Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife. 

“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”

Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together. 

You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him. 

“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.” 

That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.

Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.

“What are you doing Sy….?”

All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.” 

He kissed your hand again. 

“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.” 

Those eyes held you in a trance.

“But one day, we won't be.”

“Oh, Sy…”

“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”

And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.

—-

May 2024

I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no

It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say. 

Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.

Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.

“You still wanna talk, Sy?”

Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke. 

“Ye– yeah.”

Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.

You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco. 

But he didn’t let go of your hand.

You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.

“So where we goin’, Sy?”

Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man. 

This huge, handsome, hairy man.

“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”

What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.

Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.

“Hm.”

Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go. 

And he didn’t.

“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”

Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.

But you were grown now. 

And so was Sy.

Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.

“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”

“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”

Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.

“I bet she missed you.”

Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Sy.”

Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now. 

“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.” 

Your cheeks heated at the compliment.

“Ok, Captain.”

Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you. 

He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.

When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.

Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.

—---

Hit reblog if you like it!

Next part Here

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 20: Good to Know

Joel's outburst makes Goldie rethink her marriage. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 19, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst. Description of legal but still predatory behavior (not by Joel.) Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 4.9k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A few days earlier 

You took a deep breath, flipping down the visor in your car to look in the mirror. 

You were nervous. 

That, you thought, was dumb. 

You had no reason to be nervous. You were just meeting up with your ex-husband - almost ex-husband - to talk business. 

Mostly business. 

Also the things he’d been texting you. 

Gale had been more attentive spouse in the last few weeks than he had been in the last two years of your marriage. He texted every morning and checked in every afternoon. He sent flowers to your office - in a color you didn’t particularly like but the thought was sweet - and sent you some of his latest writing. It seemed like he was actually thinking about you and reaching out when he did, something that hadn’t happened in years. 

You hated to admit that you liked it. The attention itself was nice, of course, but you liked knowing that you crossed someone’s mind. There was comfort in believing that someone out there in the world who felt you were worth thinking about. 

That was the real reason he was here, whether you wanted to admit it to yourself or not. He’d said he wanted to talk about your book, yes, but he was blunt about the rest. 

“I want to have dinner while I’m there,” he’d said just a few days before. 

“I’d imagine so,” you said wryly, Gale on speakerphone while you folded laundry. 

You could practically hear him roll his eyes. 

“I want to have dinner with you,” he said, his voice almost sharp. 

You shrugged even though he couldn’t see you. 

“I kind of assumed we would at some point,” you said. 

“Are you being obtuse on purpose?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, about to roll two socks and then realized they weren’t actually a match. You set them aside.

“I mean,” he said. “I want to take you out.” 

“On a date?” You frowned, hands frozen on a t-shirt. 

“That was the intent, yes.” 

You just blinked for a moment. Not that this should have taken you by surprise - the man had sent you flowers for fuck’s sake - but you were still caught off guard. 

“You’re with Carla,” you said, finishing folding the shirt and setting it aside. 

“I’m married to you,” he said. 

You sighed, finding the other sock and matching it up. 

“Let’s see each other again first,” you said. “It’s been a while. You may not want to.” 

You hadn’t seen Gale since he’d showed up at your cabin the winter before and now you were meeting him for coffee, a copy of your latest manuscript tucked under your arm and more makeup on your skin than you’d worn since the concert. Gale might see right through that but then, he might not. He never paid much mind to things like how your makeup looked day to day, anyway. You blotted an imagined smudge of mascara away and went inside the coffee shop, finding Gale sitting in a corner with a book in his hands. 

He was still handsome, with his salt and pepper hair and a concentrated look on his face. You’d gotten together with him 15 years ago but, when you stood there looking at him, part of you felt 18 again and, in so many ways, you were in that same place once more. Still lonely, still heartbroken over your best friend, still scrambling for sense of direction in life and Gale was there, sure and strong. 

He noticed you then, smiling a little and putting a mark in his book, setting it down before getting up to greet you. 

“Hey Doll,” he said, reaching to embrace you. 

You hesitated for a moment but you let him, hugging him back with a quick squeeze. Your heart beat fast but it was different than how it seemed to before. Less from any sense of want and more from nerves. 

You ignored that. 

“Hey,” you smiled, stepping back from him. “How’ve you been? How was your flight?” 

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged, leading the way to the table and gesturing to the seat across from his. “Trip was OK. Otherwise… There’ve been a lot of changes in my life lately. I feel like I’m still adjusting. I got you a coffee but wasn’t sure how you’d want it…” 

You thanked him and went to add cream and sugar, trying to make yourself calm down. You weren’t even sure what you wanted from Gale now, you had no reason to be nervous. 

That thought helped a little and you went back to the table, your coffee just how you wanted it, and asked your husband what life with the baby that wasn’t yours was like and tried to figure out what you wanted to do with any of it. 

“So,” he said, walking you to your car with your pages in his hands. “What are your thoughts on dinner?” 

You looked at him, searching his eyes, trying to get some idea about what he wanted. Actually, really wanted. 

“What are yours?” You asked instead of answering. 

“Well,” he said, reaching to brush some imagined lint off your shoulder, his fingers trailing over the base of your neck when he was done. “I’m here. And I only came here so I could see you, talk to you, try to convince you to come back. I know what I want.” 

You sighed. 

“How about lunch tomorrow,” you said.

He quirked his jaw for a moment but then nodded. 

“Alright,” he said. “Lunch.” 

He still texted you goodnight and good morning and he beat you to the restaurant for lunch, too. 

It was like he was on his best behavior, a version of him you’d almost forgotten existed back in full force. He’d read your pages, talking through your work with passion and intensity that you hadn’t even realized you’d missed. He talked about his, too, sharing raw and intimate writing the way he did years ago. 

You hadn’t known how much you’d been missing this, just sitting down with someone else you respected and cared for, talking about the things that mattered most to you and getting to understand them at a deeper level. It had been lonely since you’d moved out of Joel’s house. You were a support for Anna, a responsible adult for Sarah and Ellie, a teacher and mentor for your students. You hadn’t really had the chance to just talk with someone who you weren’t beholden to in some way in what felt like forever. 

But… it wasn’t like it was with Joel. The easy comfort you found in your best friend was absent with your husband. You didn’t fall into conversation and the same way with him, you didn’t soak up his words the same way. You went back to campus after lunch, lecturing as you always did, but between classes you sat and stared at your phone. 

I’m sorry. 

You sighed, watching the text as though it would find a way to magically change just because you were looking at it. 

This was mostly your fault, you’d decided over the last few weeks. Your fault for getting too attached to Joel in the first place, your fault for assigning meaning to his actions that you knew he’d never actually intended. It was unfair of you to hold your own, unspoken expectations against him. 

But it still hurt and you needed to find a way to move past it before you tried to figure out where your relationship was going from here. You couldn’t go back to sleeping together again - you wouldn’t be able to handle that - but you hoped you could get to a place where you could at least talk. Because you’d never been able to talk to anyone like you could Joel, not even when things with Gale seemed perfect. Joel was just… different. 

Gale texted you then, a link to a bookstore and wine bar in town, asking if you’d be willing to meet him there the next afternoon before going to dinner. 

You hedged but he called you on it. 

I told you how I feel, he texted. Have dinner with me.

You had the fleeting thought that you should text Clara. Not that you had her number but you could find her on Facebook or Instagram and message her, tell her what the father of her child was doing. 

But… it was just dinner. And he was still your husband. You missed what it was like having a husband, someone to come home to at the end of the day, who you could share things with and rely on. You wanted - needed - someone to love you and here he was, offering. Who were you to argue? 

OK, you said. Dinner. 

Your stomach was in knots all day leading up to it, too, but it wasn’t nerves, not really. There was this subtle wrongness that had settled in you, this pulling feeling that no, you shouldn’t be going out with him. You weren’t sure what it was, if it was the fact that he had a girlfriend and child at home or if it was the fact that going out with someone who wasn’t Joel felt like cheating on a relationship you’d never had but it made you tense all day. 

You beat Gale to the bookstore and wine bar that evening, heading over as soon as your office hours ended. You browsed the books, pausing at the Halcyon display, picking up a copy and laughing once, darkly. If it wasn’t for this damn book, maybe you’d still have your marriage. Maybe you’d never have come back here, maybe you’d never had reconnected with Joel, maybe you wouldn’t feel so hollow without him because you never would have gotten a glimpse of exactly what you could have if things were different. 

“Oh, that one’s really good,” a woman stocking a nearby shelf said. 

“Yeah?” You asked, raising your brows at her. 

“Yeah,” she said. “It’ll make you cry but in the best way, you know? Just really makes you feel something.” 

You smiled a little, looking back at the book and running your thumb over the raised letters that spelled your name. 

“Good to know.” 

You ordered a bottle of Gale’s favorite wine and sat there, sipping a glass while you waited for him, trying to shake that odd twinge you had that this wasn’t the right thing to do. 

It was a feeling that stuck around all evening. When Gale got there, you wandered through the bookstore and he tried to talk you into telling the sales associate who you were and you shushed him but laughed while you sneakily signed a few copies of your book, anyway. The whole time you remembered Joel rearranging the shelf at Barnes and Noble so your book took up half of it. The two of you polished off the wine and you remembered Joel teasing you about your supposed high brow taste in drinks. You had dinner with Gale and tried not to think about all the dinners you’d had with Joel and Sarah and how at home you’d felt doing everything alongside both of them. 

The strangest thing was, while you missed Joel all night, you had no longing for this with Gale. It was pleasant, an echo of former intimacy that was comfortable and familiar, but it was shallow, nothing like the passion you’d had for him years earlier when your relationship first began. 

“It was really great to do this with you,” Gale said at the end of the night, standing so close to you that you could feel the heat of his body near yours. “I’ve missed you.” 

You smiled a little back. 

“It was nice,” you said. “I’m glad we got the chance.” 

He leaned in to kiss you but you dodged it, his lips finding your cheek instead. 

“Can we talk tomorrow?” He said, frowning a little, his eyes ranging over your face. 

“You did say you’d guest lecture my class,” you said. “That kind of requires talking to me.” 

He rolled his eyes. 

“You know what I mean,” he said. “I want to talk. Really talk.” 

Your heart stuttered in your chest. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, OK. Tomorrow. We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

That deadline hung over you all night. It seemed so final somehow. This moment in time that would decide everything for you. Puck curled up against your stomach when you went to bed and you curved around his small, soft body, petting him with a heavy sigh. What if you didn’t really want Gale anymore? What if you didn’t really want anybody but Joel? What if you never had? What if you’d be alone forever because you were trapped wanting something you couldn’t have?

You read through your texts with Joel. Things had been so normal - reminders of what you needed from the store and a picture of Ellie making her pooping face and little signs of the depth of your bond in these small things you didn’t need to explain to each other - followed by the heaviness of the last message. 

I’m sorry. 

“What should I do, Puck?” You asked quietly. “Do you think I can move on? Or am I going to always be stuck here like this?” 

He just shifted, stretching and arching his little back before settling against you again. 

“You’re no help,” you muttered, reaching to turn off the light on your bedside table, the diamond of your engagement ring and the glitter of the pen from Joel shining as you did. 

You didn’t sleep well, restless all night, and you left early for campus so you could try to clear your head before seeing Gale again. 

The lecture, to his credit, went well. He’d always been a talented teacher and an excellent mentor. He had a knack for clearing through the clutter of other people’s writing to find the greatness within it - something a few of your students could benefit from. 

While he talked with a few of your kids after the lecture, you looked at the texts again. As though Joel would have sent anything else. You started typing but weren’t sure what you were going to say so you just deleted it. 

“So,” Gale said after all the students had left and you needed to surrender the lecture hall. “Is now a good time?” 

“Sure,” you said, heart racing. “Let’s go to my office. We can… We can talk.” 

You closed your office door for privacy, Gale pacing as you half leaned, half sat against the edge of your desk. You crossed your arms over your stomach and watched him go from one side of the room to the other again and again. 

“What are you thinking?” You asked quietly after he’d been silently pacing for what felt like too long. 

“I’m trying to figure out how to make this work,” he said, coming to a stop in front of you. 

You frowned. 

“Make what work.” 

“What I want,” he said. 

“And what’s that?” You asked. 

“You,” he said, stepping closer to you, close enough that you had to crane your neck to look at him. “I’ve missed you - missed what we have - so much. Even more, now that I’ve been around you again.” 

“Gale,” you sighed. 

“I’ve never had anything like what we have with anyone else,” he said. “Carla included. And I don’t want to settle for less than that, not when I know what’s possible.” 

You looked at him, watching him closely. 

“You have a child,” you said softly. 

He nodded. 

“I know,” he said. “And I love my son, I do. I want to be in his life and do right by him but I think part of that is living a life that is satisfying and I’m not going to get that with his mother. I thought I was going to but… she’s just not you.” 

“It’s not that simple,” you said, standing up from your desk, trying to put some distance between the two of you. “I have a life here now, I have Anna and Ellie and…” 

Your voice trailed off. 

“And Joel,” he finished for you. 

Your eyes met his and you frowned.  

“But I’m guessing it’s not that serious, given that you’ve been with me the last few days,” Gale continued. “If he’s just fine with you going out with me the way we did last night, something tells me you’re not all that important to him. But that’s all for the better, anyway. You’d get bored with him, Doll, trust me on that. When you can’t talk to him the way you can with me, when he can’t review your work the way I can, when his life keeps him here instead of venturing outside of this place, you’ll get bored. You need more than that. I’m more than that.” 

He closed the distance between you quickly, one hand finding your cheek, the other your hip as he tugged you against him, adjusting your face just so before he kissed you. 

You didn’t even have the chance to get over the shock of it before Joel punched him. 

Everything happened so fast then. Joel asking about your book, Gale telling him to leave, Joel calling him a predator before punching him again and getting hauled away by security. 

Joel saying he loved you. 

It does matter! It matters because I love you, I love you so much, I’ve loved you since we were fucking kids, I love you so much that I think it might kill me if you don’t let me just say that to you at least this once and if you feel that way, too -

You stood there, staring at the doorway, a cluster of professors and students gaping at the wreckage that was your personal life as you tried to get your head around it all.

Joel loved you. Joel loved you? 

That didn’t make sense, that didn’t make any sense at all. If he loved you, why would he keep regretting everything with you? Why would he avoid you for days every time your relationship shifted? If he’d loved you all along, why would he have said what he did all those years ago? 

Gale groaned from your desk and you rushed over to him. The desk had broken when he landed on it, the wood cracked down the middle and you helped him up delicately as he hissed in pain. 

“Fuck that hurt,” he groaned and you hissed in sympathetic pain at the sight of his face. “What?” 

“I think your nose is broken,” you said, wincing at the crumpled shape and the splatter of blood below his nostrils. 

Gale stumbled a little as you guided him gingerly back to his feet. 

“Might have a concussion, too,” he said, shaking his head a little. “The room’s spinning…” 

“Professor?” A security guard appeared there, looking between you and Gale. “Are you alright? Do we need to call an ambulance?” 

“No, no, that’s unnecessary,” Gale waved him off with one hand, holding his broken nose with the other before turning to you. “Would you mind taking me to the hospital? I need to get this looked at.” 

“Of course,” you said, trying to shake what had just happened from your mind. Joel loved you? “Yes, let’s get you to a doctor.” 

“Preferably one with a medical degree rather than either of us,” Gale said wryly and you laughed once. 

“Probably wise,” you said. 

The security guard walked you to your car and you looked for Joel on the way but saw no sign of him. 

Once Gale was safely in the passenger seat, you stopped the security guard. 

“The man who was there…” You began but he cut you off. 

“In custody with university police,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about him, Professor.” 

“Oh,” you said. “Do you have a phone number for them? Non-emergency or something? I just… want to follow up.” 

He gave you a business card and you were keenly aware of it in your pocket as you drove Gale to the hospital. Your husband held a napkin from your glovebox to his steadily bleeding nose and the corner of the card was oddly sharp against your thigh and you forced yourself to wait until Gale got checked in at the ER to step outside and call the number on the card. 

You spoke to an officer with UT police, the one who was processing Joel and told you that he was being charged with trespassing and assault. 

“Oh, that’s really unnecessary,” you said, hoping you didn’t sound too frantic. “It was… it’s just a private situation that got a little out of hand, I can assure you neither myself nor my husband will be pressing charges.” 

“Well, it’s still trespassing,” the officer said. 

“Of course,” you said. “But he’s been a guest there before, you can check the visitor logs and I’m happy to vouch for him. I know that things involving me can draw media attention and I’d just hate to have a simple misunderstanding cast the school in a negative light.” 

He sighed and you could hear him rapping a pen against his desk. 

“If you two won’t be pressing charges, I’m sure we can make this go away,” he said. “But if we’d be looking at anything felonious…” 

“I understand,” you said quickly. “Thank you, officer, I appreciate it.” 

You went back inside, finding Gale in an exam room as he held an ice pack to his broken nose. 

“They want to do a CT scan,” he said. “God, I can’t believe that asshole…” 

I love you so much that I think it might kill me if you don’t let me just say that to you at least this once!

“I don’t know what got into him,” you said, not meeting his gaze. “He’s not normally like that.” 

“Good,” Gale said. “Because if he ever laid a finger on you…”

“What?” You cut him off, almost laughing at the idea of Joel raising a hand to you. “Are you serious?” 

“Of course I am,” he looked at you, incredulous. “If he’s willing to go that far over a kiss, it doesn’t seem like he’s a safe person for you to be around. We’ll have to look at moving Anna and Ellie to Rhode Island, then you won’t need to worry about him anymore.” 

You frowned, about to argue over just how many things were wrong with that statement, when a nurse came in to take Gale for his scan. 

You followed, Gale giving you his phone, rental car keys and wallet as you waited outside the room. You stared at your own phone, at the texts with Joel, and took a deep breath before you started typing. 

What did you mean when - 

Your pocket buzzed and you frowned, locking your own phone and fishing out Gale’s. It was a number that wasn’t saved but was from Austin, so you picked up. 

“Hello?” 

“Oh, hi,” said a young, feminine voice that sounded oddly familiar. “Sorry, I might have the wrong number, I was hoping to reach Dr. Gale Newton?” 

“This is his phone,” you said, almost in a daze. 

“Oh!” She said. “Awesome! This is Olivia Banner, Professor Newton lectured in one of my classes today and said he thought I showed a lot of promise and wanted to get drinks while he was in town, I just wanted to set that up. Do you know when he’d be free?” 

Your head spun. Olivia. One of your students. She was young - 19, you thought - and he was trying to get her to go out for a drink. 

“He’s busy at the moment,” you said. “I’ll let him know to call you back.”

You hung up the phone without waiting for a response, watching through the window into the CT room as the nurse helped Gale up off the scanner table. 

You’re a fucking predator, chasing after her fuckin’ students while you’re here with her? Doing with them what you did with her, that it?

Joel’s words shook you now. Everything suddenly looked so different. You’d written off his objections to your husband in the past. It seemed like he wanted somebody to blame for your absence and Gale was a convenient scapegoat. It was much easier to pin the dissolution of your friendship on your husband than it was on himself, after all. You hadn’t paid it much mind. Why would you?

While yes, you’d been young when you got together, that was because it was meant to be. Or so it had felt at the time, anyway. Age meant little when you found someone who was your match in so many other ways. It just so happened that you were 20 years younger than him, that you found each other through his work. There wasn’t anything salacious about it - he’d never even been your professor, not really, just your mentor and the head of the writing intensive. 

And yes, Carla was younger, too, but he’d gotten together with her after the two of you had separated, when she was no longer a student and she’d reached out for help with a short story she was polishing for submission to a prestigious magazine. 

At least, that’s what he’d told you. 

You were in a daze all the way back to the exam room, the nurse chatting away happily to Gale as she pushed his wheelchair. 

“The doctor will be by shortly to go over the scan,” she smiled. “Then we can get your nose set and get you on your merry way!” 

“Thank you,” you said, robotically, as she left you there with your husband. 

“Everything OK?” He asked, frowning as he watched you. 

“Why does Olivia Banner have your number?” You asked, turning to face him. 

“What?” He asked. 

“Olivia Banner,” you said. “Sophomore creative writing major, Olivia Banner. The 19-year-old girl in my morning lecture, Olivia Banner, why does she have your number.” 

“Oh,” he said, blinking at you in surprise. “She… she seemed talented and I like to foster young talent, you know that…” 

“Then why was she calling to meet for drinks.” 

“Because,” he laughed. “We need to meet for something and -” 

“When did you and Carla get together?” You cut him off. 

“I told you, we-”

“The truth,” you said, reading the lie on his face before it was even out of his mouth. “When.” 

He sighed. 

“Doll…” 

“When,” you said again. 

“Look,” he said. “We were having a hard time…” 

“I’m not interested in your fucking excuses, Gale!” You yelled. “When did you start fucking her!” 

“Years ago!” He yelled back and you stepped back from him, shocked. “When you were in Europe, on your book tour. It… it wasn’t anything at first, I was just lonely and restless and she was there and…” 

“How many students have you slept with?” You asked. 

“That’s not -”

“How many!” 

“I’m not sure!” He yelled back. “Alright? It’s… it’s not… It’s something that just happens, you know how it is, but I love you and-” 

“Do you?” You cut him off. 

“Do I what?” 

“Do you love me,” you said more than asked. 

He looked at you like you were insane. 

“Of course I love you,” he said. “What kind of question is that! Do you think I’d be here in fucking Texas if I didn’t love you?” 

“It’s Austin, it’s not like we’re in some backwater!” You laughed. 

“Still, look where we are!” He gestured broadly, as if that proved his point. “Do you think I’d do this for just anyone?” 

“What’s my favorite food?” You asked, watching him closely. He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“I don’t…” he shook his head. 

“How do I take my coffee?” You asked. 

“Doll, I don’t see-”

“What movies do I like?” 

“Look,” he said. “We’ve been separated for a while, some of those things just slip away. But I love you, I love how you challenge me, inspire me, how-” 

“You never loved me,” you cut him off. You weren’t even mad now, not really. You were more resigned, things laid out clearly now. “You loved what I could do for you, you loved that I was just some naive girl who desperately needed someone to see her and care for her, you loved that you could take advantage of me. But the second I started to outshine you, you couldn’t take it. Because you never loved me. Never. Not for a minute.” 

“No, you’re wrong,” he said, but you just shook your head. 

“We’re done,” you said, dropping his things in his lap. “Don’t contact me again, anything you have to say to me you can say to my attorney.” 

“No,” he stood up, his phone and wallet and keys clattering to the floor. “No, we’re not -“ 

“Yes, we are,” you said, feeling calmer than you’d felt in days. “Don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t email me. And if you so much as breathe in the direction of any one of my students, I will ruin you. Understand?” 

“Doll…” 

“Goodbye, Gale,” you said, not listening to him anymore as you walked away from him for good. 

Next Chapter

A/N: FUCK YOU GALE!

Sorry, that's still really fun to write. I'm so proud of Goldie! I think we all know what's coming next chapter, yeah?

Cool.

Thanks for sticking with this story for the insane amount of time it's taken me to write it. I realized the other day that I started this more than a year ago now when I'd intended it to take me maybe 6 months to complete. I really do appreciate how you've been here and been so kind and lovely throughout. It means the world!

Love you!!

Taglist: @kaseyconnour

[holyblonded]

Why do I think barca and us media media admin love and hate estrella at the same time like she is a meme material and gives a lot of hilarious content but at the same a pr disaster fighting against opposition fans or trolls on twitter or sharing something she shouldn't share or giving away transfers ( her twitter is banned and alexia threatened to change estrella's insta password if she doesn't behave)

— barça and uswnt’s media teams love estrella because she’s a content goldmine. she’s effortlessly hilarious, always up to something, and her antics rack up millions of views. but at the same time, she is their biggest headache.

— she’s for sure pure meme material—whether it’s her trash-talking on the pitch, her chaotic celebrations, or just her unfiltered personality in interviews.

— “estrella, what’s your pre-match ritual?”

— “i look in the mirror and tell myself, ‘you’re the main character, go make everyone suffer.’”

— her post-match interviews are always a nightmare. one time, after beating real madrid, she accidentally let it slip that barça was signing someone before the club announced it.

— cue the entire media team scrambling to delete clips before they went viral.

— but of course, they still went viral. estrella’s mouth is faster than their damage control.

— and don’t even get started on her twitter. she was constantly fighting opposition fans, trolls, and sometimes even journalists.

— when someone called barça overrated, estrella quote-tweeted them with, “ratio + your club could never.”

— another time, a rival fan said she wasn’t that good, and she responded with a video compilation of her cooking their team.

— barça’s media admin saw that tweet, sighed, and just closed their laptop.

— eventually, alexia banned her from twitter after she got into too many arguments.

— while estrella is technically media trained, she don’t exactly listen to her training.

— she has gotten into many arguments in instagram comment sections leading to her not having access to her instagram for periods of time

— fans can always tell when she's gotten her socials taken away cause her captions go from "put a k on them ‼️" with a picture of her and vicky with the fours up to "Another good game in the books! 1 goals and 3 assists! Visca Barça!" and they start a revolt in the comments

— "free our stargirl 🗣️"

— "stargirl's banned again? 💔💔"

— this actually happens so often that she made a second account with the username @estrella2fast4defenders but the username changes a lot so no one can catch on

— she only follows the younger players, olga, and alba on the account but some on die hard fans are on it cause they found it

— barça’s media admin, carla, prays before every press conference, hoping estrella won’t say something wild.

— but deep down they know she will. it’s an endless cycle for everyone

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Freebie :) for whatever is in your head :D

Please Enjoy one almost smut.

Logan walked into the apartment and frowned slightly, it was quiet and that was weird. He didn't expect you to be at his beck and call exactly, but... he'd gotten used to having you home when he got there. And when you weren't it felt wrong.

Still.

You were young. And you had friends. And a day job you didn't need. One you kept to fill your time while he was away on missions. That he understood. You were too smart to just lay around and look pretty all day long with your tits out. Even if you could and he enjoyed the odd day when you did, sending him racy pictures to rile him up.

So he did what he did BEFORE he had you to do it. Got his own drink and lit his own cigar, grumbling to himself about it. For a moment he debated calling you, seeing where you were. Checking on you. But he dismissed the idea.

It was still early. And it was the middle of the week. Maybe you did go out for a while, getting your nails done or something. He shrugged to himself and tutted. "Girls," he grumbled, without any real heat.

He'd been alive a long time. And you weren't his first sugar baby. Sure- some of them liked to run around, but you weren't that type. Too sweet. You told him if you were going out with work friends always who and where; and he knew because early on he checked. More out of curiosity than anything. You stayed with your girl group and came home giggly and more drunk than he liked but... you were young. This was probably just shopping or something.

The sound of bags rustling and footsteps made him cock his head as he exhaled a cloud of smoke and he glanced at the clock, turning the stereo down just slightly. "Princess?" he called

"You're home!" you yelp, dropping bags with a metallic thud, "Shit, Carla and I went to yoga and then I went to find a new pan for-"

Logan hauled himself out of his chair with a smirk and crossed the floor to you, "I figured you were just out doin' whatever it is pretty girls do when they got a free afternoon and some extra money, bub." He kissed you hello and stroked your back affectionately.

"Sorry, Lo, I know you like it when I'm home when you get here." You scritch lightly at the back of his neck and bite your lip nervously. Hoping he's not annoyed.

He closed his eyes slightly and dropped his head when you scratch at his neck and rumbled wordlessly before whistling softly, "New nails too? You had a busy day."

"And I got a pedicure. And a present for you."

"For me?" He looked at you and quirked an eyebrow, pulling you closer, "What kind of present, Princess? Pans are nice but-"

"That's for me to know and you to find out later," you hum, standing on your toes and tugging at him slightly to make him bend down so you can kiss his cheek. "But first, I need to get a shower. Ugh I've been running all day and between that and Yoga I am gross."

"Princess," Logan said warningly as you start to pull away. "You know what happens when you tease me."

"Shower first, then dinner, then present," you pout. "I'm stinky and hungry. I'm not teasing. I'm building dramatic tension."

He folded his arms across his chest and smirked at you. He could see the mischief in your eyes despite your protest and weighed his options. He could let you have this. Let you win this one and play this one little game with him- it WAS cute. And you weren't being a brat YET. You wanted his attention. That's what the nails and the 'present' were for. Making him feel special- you probably planned to be wearing it when he came home and now you had to pivot.

"Been waitn' for you all day," he mused. "I better let you get a shower and something in your belly now because once I get started you're not gettin' away from me until I decide we're done. Understood?"

And when your eyes light up and you nod, trying not to smile- still trying to pout for him, he smirks. That's his girl. He could let you win this one. Let you fuss over him, even if he didn't mind when you smelled like sweat and salt. He could take you right there if you wanted. But, if you wanted to play your little game and be admired a little first, he wasn't going to complain.

_____________

Dinner was agony. Even if you didn't tease him. You fussed over him, making sure he got enough to eat and making sure he had a drink and a cigar. Kisses and rubbing his neck and shoulders- Christ it felt good.

Like it did every time you did it for him. Idealized domesticity, he knew. But- you did it because you liked doing it for him. And he loved you doing it. But finally, when you started clearing plates, he stopped you, "I was promised a present," he rumbled, pulling you down for a kiss that he knew would make your knees go weak.

"I'm not teasing I just-"

"I know," he soothed, stroking your side. He did know. This was just for him. A little bit of extra fussing. Extra attention. Making him feel good. "Being so sweet to me today, Princess," he praised. "Being a good girl. Gonna keep being good for me, huh?"

The praise hits where he wants. You need it today. And when you swallow hard, nodding mutely he pats your hip, "Go on, bub. Go wrap it all up for me and make it pretty."

And when you scamper off, he takes a drag of his cigar and grins; exhaling a cloud of smoke before going to start the dishes. Anything to give you some time and ignore the ache in his groin.

By the time he has the last spoon in the dishwasher, he can hear the rapid beat of your heart in the doorway. And the scent of arousal hits his nose and it's all he can do not to whip around with a growl and force himself to move slowly.

It would be a shame to ruin all your hard work.

But hell if he doesn't want to throw you on the bed and tear that flimsy little confection to bits as he fucks you full of his come until you can't think. "I didn't think it was my birthday," he mused. "Or an anniversary. What's the occasion, Princess?" He stepped closer. Stalking forward hungrily.

"I-I thought you'd like it," you murmur.

"You were right," he hummed. Pink. Sheer. Pushing your breasts forward and somehow leaving nothing and everything and everything to the imagination. Straps falling from your shoulders. You even put on makeup and heels. "Christ... You got horny just putting this on for me, didn't you?"

You bite your lip and look up at him, "A little."

"Such a sweet little thing," he purred, pulling you towards him as he dropped into his chair. "So sweet to me."

"You've been busy. And stressed so-"

"So my princess wanted to make it all better huh?" he hummed, stroking the ruffled on your backside and giving you a loving pat. "Wanted to make me forget all about it?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think I forgot," he said grinning, "And I think it's time for bed."

[i-arch-my-backula]

Vampire Freak of California: The Lost Boys x reader

I kept this GN and I don't know how I feel about it persay. It's one of the longest things I've written probably ever, and I like the idea. I just don't know about the execution of it on my end. I also dedicate this to @k1nn1e-0n-ma1n who is my favorite vampire freak. I might make this into a series thing, perchance, if I ever feel like getting around to making another chapter for it.

Content includes: Swearing, readers relationship to the boys could be read as platonic or romantic, autism coded reader

Living in Santa Carla is pretty uneventful. Your mother died when you were young and your father wanted nothing to do with you, so you’ve been living with your grandpa since you were a child. Your aunt and cousins just moved in with you and your grandpa, trying to get settled in after your aunt’s divorce. So you’ve been showing them around, taking them places, hanging out. It’s a nice break from doing a bunch of outdoor work this summer, especially now that you’re home from college.

 But if you’re being honest, you don’t know too many people here. Sure you have your friends and stuff, but outside of them and your family you’re not too familiar with everyone else in town. But it’s not that big of a deal, there’s more people in the state of California than people in some countries, at least you think.

But something that might be holding you back from getting more friendships, or even a relationship is your interests. When you started to tease your hair and wear all black your grandpa didn’t fully understand it, but seeing other people like that out in town he recognized it as some kind of trend with young people. But even before that, since you were young, you’ve had an obsession with vampires. It started when you watched the 1931 Dracula movie with a friend, and from then on you were hooked. Now your room is basically dedicated to vampires. Countless VHS tapes, books, posters, cassettes, records, collectables, comic books, anything vampire related you liked that you could get your hands on, it was in your room.

Now you know vampires are fake. That’s what makes it fun. Exploring such dark topics in a safe way through fiction. Not to mention how a lot of vampires can be pretty hot. But you know they’re not real, and so does everyone else, even if your grandpa avoids the subject all together most of the time, if you ever bring up how they’re fictional.

Of course not everyone understood. Your aunt Lucy was polite enough about it, your cousin Michael teases you about it a little, and Sam always makes comments. But who cares? It makes you happy. Very happy, in fact you could talk about vampires for hours on end. But that’s usually reserved for your friends, who are pretty similar to you. But as the summer went on, Michael got some friends of his own, so did Sam. 

It’s a warm night in June. You’re sitting downstairs in the kitchen talking on the phone with your friend when you hear the front door open, then Michael starts to speak. You look out the kitchen doorway and find him talking to a guy with platinum blonde hair. You shrug it off as Michael talking with a friend of his. You can hear other people talking, but it’s probably just more of his friends. 

“But I’ve got this new kind of question about vampires and stuff.” You say, opening the fridge and taking out a soda bottle, popping off the cap and taking a sip of it. “So vampires can’t go out in the sun. But what if they lived in one of those places where the sun doesn’t rise for months at a time? Like one of those arctic places in the world? Theoretically they could go outside all the time during periods like that.” You hold the phone receiver to your ear while walking back to the spot you were sitting at before.

Michael and his friend glance your way before going back to speaking with each other. You shrug it off. People stare at you all the time, it’s no big deal. You’re not even wearing one of your ‘outrageous’ outfits today. ‘I think vampires do need to sleep, like how all living creatures need to sleep. But it could be different for them depending on how long the sun is out.’ Your friend says over the phone. You nod your head and sip your soda again. 

“Uh huh. That makes sense. But without the barrier of the sun, I feel like a vampire could safely pull an all nighter or something. Some kind of insomniac vampire.” You joke, both you and your friend chuckling. 

‘I’ve gotta go. My parents are taking us to visit our grandparents tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later.’ Your friend says. 

“Alright, peace out girl scout.” You say before hanging up the phone and sipping on your soda again. You leave the kitchen and pass by Michael who is still talking with his friend on the porch. Then you notice the other three guys hanging around, one of them looks at you. He’s the only one who isn’t a blonde, and he’s also not wearing a shirt. Something about him makes you pause for a moment. He doesn’t look too different from the other people you see around town, especially on the boardwalk.But the way he’s looking at you. It’s making something shift inside your body. “Is all you do talk about vampires?” Sam teases from his spot on the couch. His voice draws you out of that slight hypnotic state. You flip him off and walk up the stairs, making your way into your room. 

“People can be super into sports, or cars, or music, but apparently an interest in vampires is too far for some people.” You say, rolling your eyes. “Also I know you took one of my cassettes.” You look down at Sam from your spot on the stairs. “You better give it back before I put all your comics in the garbage disposal.” You joke, earning Sam flipping you off. You laugh and go up into your room, shutting the door behind you. 

That night as you slept you had the strangest dream. Being on some kind of beach next to a bonfire. Michael’s friend was there, staring at you like how he was before. You wanted to ask him questions but you couldn’t speak, something was stopping your voice. That’s all you could remember of the dream after you woke up. But some strange part of it that you couldn’t fully describe lingered in the back of your mind.

The next night you’re outside, listening to some music on your walkman and petting one of the barn cats you have. He’s a tuxedo cat you’ve had for a couple years now. You named him Mr. Murphy, after Peter Murphy from Bauhaus. He’s a really nice kitty. Sometimes when you don’t have anyone to talk to, you just talk to him. If he understood English he’d probably be the first cat to have encyclopedic knowledge on vampires. As you’re scratching behind his ears someone taps your shoulders from behind. You jump a little and turn around to see it’s Michael. You pause your music and take off your headphones. “Jesus Michael you scared me.” 

“Yeah well I didn’t mean to…Sorry. I’ve just got some friends coming over and I feel like it might be best that you stay inside.” You can’t tell what kind of a tone he’s using right now, but something tells you it’s not very good. 

“Michael I’m two years older than you, I can handle being around some teenage boys.” 

“They aren’t exactly teenage boys.” 

“Really? You’re hanging out with a bunch of grown men?” 

“You know that’s not what I mean.” He says, putting his hands on his hips and sighing. He looks away from you, down at Mr. Murphy before looking back up at you, although you can’t quite meet his gaze, or anyone’s for that matter. “Just be careful with them. They can get kind of rowdy and stuff.” 

“What do you mean by being careful?” 

“You know what I mean by that.” 

“No I don’t. I’m being serious Michael, I don't know what you mean. If these are the same friends you had over last night I doubt that anything bad is going to happen. They seemed more interested in catching a cold from not wearing a shirt outside than bothering me.” Before he can reply, some headlights pull up behind you. Turning around you see his friends from before coming up on motorbikes. You look back at Michael for a moment, huffing a breath from your nose. “You owe me.” You mumble to him before heading back inside, letting the screen door slam shut behind you. 

He’s got you all worked up now. Everyone is always treating you like you’re stupid. Well you’re not stupid. You’re different, sure. But you’re not stupid. You head into the kitchen and look around, trying to find something to eat, but only one thing comes to mind. What you call your ‘special food’. Something that no matter what, is always reliable and ‘safe’ for you to eat. So you get it ready and move to grab a dish for it when you see someone enter the kitchen. But it’s not Sam, like you’d expect. It’s one of Michael’s friends. Another blonde one. He’s wearing a dirty black blazer, and his hair is teased up into a big style, probably containing a whole can of hairspray in it. 

You look at each other for a while, just staring. You have no idea what to say, and maybe he doesn’t either. So you go back to what you were doing, getting a dish for your food. 

“You’re not going to say anything?” He asks with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest while looking at you. Your back is still to him while you start to eat your food. You can feel him watching you. But you don’t have the energy to force eye contact right now. 

“I thought you were here for Michael.” You say, grabbing a glass and filling it up with some tap water. 

“Yeah well he’s been pretty vague about you when I ask questions. So I thought I should try speaking to you myself.” He says, walking closer to you as you drink your water.

“Why are you asking questions about me?” You ask, looking over at him for a moment, finishing off your food and setting your dishes in the sink. 

“Am I not allowed to be curious about someone?” He asks, in what you think is a teasing tone. But you don’t want to laugh and find out he was being serious. 

“No I didn’t mean that. I was just wondering why you’re interested in me is all.” You shrug your shoulders and trace shapes with your finger on the counter top. 

“I heard you talking about vampires last night. I’m pretty into vampires myself.” He says, watching your finger as it moves across the counter top. “I’m Paul. You’re Y/N right?” He asks. You nod your head. 

“Yeah that’s my name.” You say, looking over at the kitchen doorway, hearing Michael talking with his other friends again. “And I’m pretty into vampires. I mean. Don’t even get me started, I'll talk for hours on end about them.” 

“How into them are you?” He asks, smiling wider while he raises an eyebrow at you. You start to smile on your own too, even if he doesn’t want to listen to you rant about vampires, he’s about to.

“Well it all started when I first watched the 1931 dracula movie with Bella Lugosi when I was around 13. Which led me down this sort of rabbit hole of vampire media and all this stuff. So I’ve been collecting VHS tapes, books, posters, records, cassettes, comic books, anything vampire related I liked and could get my hands on. So it’s been almost a decade since then and I’m still obsessed with vampires. I mean I wrote this paper on the history of mythology of vampires for an English class back in my junior year of high school. 

“I have all these little theories and questions I’ve loved to ask horror movie directors some time with how they interpret these vampire media things. But I think my favorite vampire movie I’ve ever seen is probably ‘Fright Night’ by Tom Holland, the same guy who made the Child's play movie. It’s a really good vampire movie with some interesting interpretations on vampire mythology. We’ve come a long way from the original poem about a vampire. 

“There’s a lot of different interpretations of vampire mythology. Some media say that they’re affected by crosses, garlic, holy water, etc. But some say that garlic and crosses don’t do anything. But it’s pretty consistent that you can kill a vampire with a stake to the heart, decapitation, or with sunlight. I think it’s interesting that with all this variation on vampire mythology that almost every interpretation of vampires have them being unable to go out in the sunlight. Oh! But a couple of years ago for my graduation gift and 18th birthday present my grandpa helped me build my own coffin. I keep it in my room and I really love it.

“It’s stained on the outside with this dark brown wood stain and on the inside is some memory foam and red velvet. Like in this song by this band called Bauhaus, they’re a really awesome band. But they made a song called ‘Bella Lugosi’s dead’ which is a really good song, I really like it. But it has a lot of vampire themes to it. I feel like a lot of bands I like have vampire themes to them.” You start to pick at your nails while speaking to Paul. You’re so caught up in talking about vampires that you don’t notice another one of Michael’s friends is standing in the kitchen doorway. 

“You have a coffin in your room?” He speaks up. You look over at him. He’s not the brunette from last night. But he’s not the Billy Idol look alike either. He’s dressed just as outrageously as the rest of them, with a jacket that’s more patches than actual jacket at this point. But you just nod your head and look back down at your nails while you pick at them. 

“Yeah. People think it’s weird but who cares? I mean, I’d rather be comfortable with death than spend my life chasing after something I’ll never get.” You say with a shrug. Paul and his friend exchange a glance, smiling to themselves. 

“Can we see it?” Paul asks, leaning down a bit to try and catch your eye. You look over at him, then at his friend in the doorway. You stand up straighter and lead them out of the kitchen. Michael is out in the yard now, speaking with the guy with the platinum blonde hair again. It seems like he only speaks to that guy when his friends are around. Paul and his friend with the crazy jacket are whispering words to each other behind you as you lead them up the stairs. 

“My room is a little cramped with how much stuff I have in here. I know I need to get rid of some of it, but I can’t really bring myself to do that.” You say, walking down the upstairs hallway. You open your bedroom door and lead in the two boys. They start to whistle and make quiet comments when they see just how many vampire related things you have. 

“Nice poster.” The one with the jacket says, gesturing towards your ‘Vamp’ poster. You smile and walk over to it, putting your finger on it.

“Oh this one I got from a movie theater. You know how they have those posters for movies that are about to come out or that they’re showing and stuff? Well I asked if they had a poster for Vamp and they gave it to me.” You start to smile widely again, being able to talk about vampires just gets your heart pumping. “It’s a pretty good movie. It’s about these fraternity pledges that need to get some strippers for a party and they unknowingly go to a strip club full of vampires. Grace Jones is in it and she does this dancing scene where she’s wearing body paint done by Keith Haring, who’s this really cool artist.” 

You notice Paul standing next to your coffin, a smile on his face as he opens it up. 

“You sleep in this thing?” He asks, looking over at you while chuckling. 

“Oh no, I don’t sleep in it. I mean sometimes I lay inside of it just for fun. Or I’ve taken pictures of myself inside it, and a friend of mine has a VHS camera, so she took some videos of me inside it, all dressed up like a vampire and stuff.” You say, running your fingers over the red velvet inside the coffin. You push your hand down on the memory foam on the base before you step inside it, crossing your arms over your chest in that cliche vampire way. 

“Not all vampires sleep in coffins. Some sleep in caves.” Paul’s friend says, his attention turned to your large collection of cassette and VHS tapes. You chuckle and open your mouth to reply when you notice someone in the doorway. It’s the brunette of Michael’s friend group. You didn’t even hear him come up. 

“I know. But I just wanted a coffin for the hell of it.” You say, looking away from him and back over to Paul, who’s still standing next to you. He notices your gaze and he chuckles as he sees his other friend in the doorway.

“How nice of you to join us Dwanye. We’ve got a real vampire enthusiast here with us. Don’t we Marko?” He asks with a chuckle, looking from the brunette to the blonde.

“I’ve never seen someone so dedicated to vampires.” Marko jokes, picking up a VHS tape before putting it back. “What would you do if you found out vampires were real?” He asks, looking back over at you. Now you can feel three pairs of eyes on you, all of them pretty much strangers. You quickly turn to your left and pick up a little Dracula action figure, pretending to want to change its pose. 

“Well vampires aren’t real. And unless some huge part of history and murders have been left out of the mainstream for the last however many centuries, and they are real…I don’t know…”

“You wouldn’t be into them if they were real?” Paul asks, walking closer to you. But your eyes stay fixed on your little action figures, moving over to adjust an Elvira one next to the Dracula.

“Well it’s one thing to be into the idea, or the fantasy of something, and another to actually want it to happen to you. I’m pretty sure the people who love to learn about war history don’t wish they were out in the trenches of WW1 or something.” You say with a little chuckle, wiping some dust off the action figure in your hand. “So maybe I don’t know what I’d do if vampires were real, because I know for a fact they aren’t.” As you set down the Elvira action figure Paul reaches his hand out and grabs a book from a spot on your shelf.

But you catch his fingernails. Something happened to his fingernails. It was only for a second. But you saw what they were like. How long they were. How sharp they were. Almost like they were claws. You look over at him and find his hands are normal. He’s just opening the book and flipping through the pages. God your mind is playing tricks on you. Maybe you need to get your vision checked. 

“Nothing is impossible.” Dwayne says, finally speaking up. You look over at him. He moved from his spot in the doorway, now standing next to your bed, looking at a Jim Morrison poster you have above your bed. You just crack a smile at that, not really sure how to respond. 

“Come on Michael. We can behave ourselves when we want to.” You hear a voice downstairs say. You walk over to your door as Paul puts the book back on the shelf. 

“It’s one thing to get involved with me but you need to leave my family out of this. It’s complicated enough dealing with all of this shit and I don’t need the people I love getting drawn in too.” Michael says. You walk down the hall, closer to the stairs, listening to them go on arguing, almost like a married couple. 

“Your family is fine Michael. You don’t have to worry about them.” You get to a place where you’re mostly hidden from Michael and his friend. They’re standing together in the living room. Michael’s friend is turned away from you, so you can’t see his face. But you can see Michael’s. And it makes your skin crawl a bit. 

“How do I know that you’re not going to get them involved in all of this stuff too? I swear if you even try to-” 

“Your family will be fine Michael.” His friend assures him, cutting him off. “You need to worry about yourself. I think it’s about time you became one of us, fully one of us. We can show you what we are, how to do what we do. But it needs to be soon. I don’t want to wait much longer.” His friend turns his head to the side, giving you a glimpse of his face. But before you could see anymore, the phone in your room starts to ring. You’re pulled out of the little world that conversation created and you walk back into your room, remembering the three strangers you just left inside. 

You pick up the receiver and turn your back to the three boys. “Hello?” 

‘I’ve been looking into all of these disappearances recently. A majority of them result in finding the bodies dead, murdered in brutal ways, usually the cause of death is blood loss, with bite marks all over the body, especially the neck.’ Your friend says. You chuckle a bit in shock, shaking your head while putting your free hand on your hip. 

“Yeah well the police say it’s some kind of animals attacking people. We live in California, remember? There’s a lot of weird critters floating around everywhere.” You say, hearing the boys behind you start to whisper among themselves again. “But now isn’t exactly the best time for me to have this conversation with you.” 

‘But I think the police are trying to cover something up. Or at least they’re not willing to accept what we’re dealing with. I mean, these bite marks are described as having only two or four puncture holes, the closest thing to these being some kind of wolf or coyote. Not to mention these people’s cars are found missing doors, and roofs. What kind of a wolf rips off the roof of a car to eat a human?’ You sigh and run your hand over your face. 

“I think we should talk about this tomorrow. Alright?” You say. Your friend starts to speak again but you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. 

“You expect me to control them like they’re children? Some kind of pet, Michael?” You hear Michael’s friend say, his voice is getting closer along with the footsteps. 

“I gotta go.” You hang up the phone quickly and turn around just in time to see Michael’s friend standing in your doorway, with Michael behind him. There’s a beat of silence between the six of you. While it only lasted for a couple seconds, it felt like an eternity of ringing silence deafening your ears.

“Y/N was just showing off their vampire collection. They’re really into them.” Paul says, smiling at the man in the doorway. He looks at you and you look at him. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He says, walking further into your room. He walks up to you and holds out his hand, smiling in a way that makes something inside you shift. “I’m David.” 

You take his hand and shake it, feeling the cool leather of his glove on your warm skin. 

“I’m Y/N. Your friends were just really interested in my vampire collection.” You explain, ignoring all the pairs of eyes on you. Choosing to focus your attention on your ‘Fright Night’ poster, trying to make it seem somewhat natural. David takes the time to look around your room, smiling to himself as he does so. 

“Quite the collection.” He says, walking away from you, and over to your coffin. “I bet you’re a bit of a die hard vampire fan.” You let out a chuckle and glance at Michael, who seems like he’s about to chip a tooth with how clenched his jaw is. “Well it was nice to meet you Y/N But I think it’s time that we go out for the night. Right Michael?” David asks, looking over at him in the doorway. Michael nods his head. 

“I’ll get my jacket.” He says, stepping aside to let David leave the room. 

“We’ll have to watch a movie together sometime.” Paul says on his way out, giving you a small wave. Marko and Dwayne follow after him and Michael just gives you a look that you can’t quite decipher before walking down the hall after his friends. He might be mad about you hanging out with them. But they’re some of the few people who aren’t tired of your vampire obsession. So who cares what he says? You’ll have to invite them into your room more often. 

[eighthman-bound]

Kinda bewildering Shazam had a more grounded, emotionally moving use of ‘finding your birth mother and coming to terms that they abandoned you and your true family are the strangers who took you in” deal than what Doctor Who has done

Like I thought the cafe scene was just Ruby dropping to her birth mum that small hint of “it’s me. I made it, im fine. I forgive you and won’t force myself to be part of your world I just want you know what I look like, so we can both have closure” and I would have loved that but they went too far into lovey dovey happy ending territory y’know?

Saying she’s the real mum despite everything Carla has done is… icky

[kathlare]

the spotlight beckons

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie faces a storm of public scrutiny when a private moment with soccer star Rodrigo Riquelme becomes public.

Wordcount: 1.8 k

Warnings: none

November 4th, 2022 - London, United Kingdom

liked by barcawagsnation, amelieupdates, and others

celebsgossiphq: It’s official! 👀✨ Singer Amelie Dayman and soccer star Rodrigo Riquelme were spotted last night looking extra cozy in London, finally putting those dating rumors to rest. 🥂❤️ The power couple we didn’t see coming but absolutely needed! What do you think of this duo?

View all 3,925 comments

celebritygossiper88: Amelie and Rodrigo? I’m screaming. This is a couple we didn’t know we needed but now can’t live without. 😭🔥 → soccerfan_07: @celebritygossiper88 Right? They’re giving vibes. If this isn’t couple goals, idk what is. 💘

amelie_lover32: FINALLY. It’s official, y’all. Amelie’s got herself a soccer player. 💅 → barcafanatic_23: @amelie_lover32 She really out here living her best life. I’m not even mad. 😩✨

futbolgossip_queen: omg they’re literally that couple 😍🔥

soccer_girl07: Ok, but are we ignoring the fact that she was lowkey out here with a soccer star? 👀 → celebritywatcher22: @soccer_girl07 Not ignoring, just vibing. They’re perfect together, tbh. 👏❤️

landofans02: Not Lando being left behind for Rodrigo... 🙄💔 → ameliedaymanfan: @landofans02 Let it go, babe. She’s happy, and that’s all that matters. 💅

celebsgossipcentral: Omg, the way they were all over each other in London? Y’all thought the rumors weren’t true, but now look. 😂🔥

futbolgossip24: Ok, but do we think they’re actually serious? Or is this another fling? 🤔

soccerfangirl22: Amelie and Rodrigo are officially a thing? I’m screaming. 😩🔥 → ameliefanatic99: @soccerfangirl22 YES! Finally, the couple we’ve been waiting for. 😍👏

futbol_queen99: Been hearing the rumors for weeks, but this pic? Yep, they’re real. 💯🔥

wagsworld01: This is giving major power couple vibes!!! I’m obsessed. 😍👑 → celebsgossiphq: @wagsworld01 They’re about to take over the world together, mark my words. 💅

hatersgonnahate77: I just KNOW someone’s gonna have an issue with this. 🙄

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

Amelie sat in the sleek, glass-walled conference room of her PR office, surrounded by her usual team. Carla, her manager, had stepped out a few moments earlier to take a call, leaving Amelie with the rest of the team to discuss her upcoming projects. The atmosphere was business-like but familiar, as they went over details for her schedule, upcoming events, and promotional plans for her role in Wicked.

They had been talking about charity events when the door to the room suddenly slammed open. The sudden force of it made the whole room pause, heads snapping toward the door. Carla stormed in, her usually composed demeanor completely shattered. The sight of her manager’s furious expression sent a chill through Amelie’s chest.

Carla was holding a magazine in one hand, and she didn’t even greet anyone. Without a word, she slammed it down on the table in front of Amelie with such force that it nearly rattled the glass surface.

Amelie blinked, confused. The magazine didn’t register at first, but Carla’s face was a storm cloud, her lips tight with anger. She was shaking slightly, but it was clear that this wasn’t just frustration—it was something worse.

—What the hell is this?— Carla demanded, voice sharp, cutting through the tension in the room.

Amelie frowned, picking up the magazine. She recognized it immediately—the glossy cover, the oversized headline, the faint scent of perfume. It was one of the tabloids. The title screamed, "Amelie’s Secret Romance: Mexican Star Caught in a Steamy Kiss!" Her stomach dropped before her eyes even scanned further down the page.

Slowly, Amelie flipped it open, her pulse quickening. And then she saw it: a full-page spread of her and Rodrigo, locked in an embrace, their lips pressed together under the dim lights of a London street. The images were raw—nothing like the carefully posed photos she had been used to in the past. The shot captured the exact moment their lips touched, their bodies close, oblivious to the cameras. The next shot showed them laughing, a touch too intimate, too carefree. There were no blurred faces or hidden angles. This wasn’t just a sneaky shot; this was everywhere.

She didn’t know how to process it. She hadn’t seen anyone taking photos, hadn’t noticed the eyes of the paparazzi, but now, it was all out there—undeniable.

—How the hell did this happen?— Amelie muttered under her breath, her voice shaking.

Carla didn’t answer right away. She was still fuming, pacing in front of the table. The team remained silent, clearly uncomfortable with the situation unfolding before them.

—You know how careful we’ve been about this... how many times we’ve talked about keeping this under wraps, Amelie? How many times have we discussed how your personal life needs to stay private?— Carla’s voice was tight, each word punctuated with frustration.

Amelie felt a wave of heat rise to her face, her chest tightening. She didn’t want to deal with this right now. She didn’t want to confront the reality of what was happening. But she knew, deep down, that the secret was out.

—I didn’t see anyone taking photos, Carla. I really didn’t!— she said, her voice louder now, trying to hold back the panic she could feel rising.

—It doesn’t matter now, does it?— Carla snapped, slamming her hand on the table. —It’s out there. The whole world can see it. They’re going to tear you apart for this.—

Amelie felt her mind spinning. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this—not with Rodrigo. They’d agreed to keep things low-key, especially after everything with Shawn. After that breakup. She had been so careful, so mindful of how public their lives could get—she didn’t want to repeat her past mistakes. But somehow, it didn’t matter. The pictures were out there, and there was no going back.

Her PR team remained quiet, exchanging nervous glances. Carla’s anger was palpable, but she was also clearly worried about the consequences.

Amelie exhaled, running a hand through her hair. She looked back at the images, then at the headline that seemed to scream at her. "Amelie and Rodrigo: A New Power Couple?"

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was the beginning of a narrative that would be hard to undo.

—What does this mean now?— she asked, her voice strained as she finally looked up at Carla.

Carla took a deep breath, clearly struggling to keep her composure. —It means we need to control the narrative. Fast. You need to address this before it spirals. The fans are already speculating, and the media is going to go wild. You’ve got to be prepared for the shitstorm that’s coming. We need a statement. Something official. You can’t just let them write whatever they want.

Amelie felt like she was suffocating. She had been hoping—praying—that things would stay private for a little longer. But now, the truth was out, and she had no choice but to face the fallout.

—Can we just… I don’t know, tell people it’s just a fling?— she suggested weakly, but even as the words left her lips, she knew they wouldn’t work. Not with a kiss like that, not with pictures that made everything look so real.

—No—Carla shook her head. —That’s not going to fly. If you’re going to do this, we need to own it. But we can’t act like it’s no big deal. This is bigger than that. We need to make sure you’re in control of the situation before it spins out of your hands.—

Amelie felt a knot form in her stomach. She didn’t want any of this. She didn’t want to be controlled by the media or have her every move dissected by strangers. But she also knew that running away wasn’t an option anymore.

—I don’t want to be the story. I just want to…— Amelie stopped herself, the words stuck in her throat. How could she explain this? How could she explain what had been happening between her and Rodrigo when, in some ways, she still wasn’t sure herself?

—You’re already the story, sweetheart. It’s too late to back out now. We’ll have to play it smart. There’s no going back.— Carla’s tone softened slightly, but it didn’t make the reality any easier to face.

Amelie felt her heart pounding in her chest. This wasn’t what she wanted. She hadn’t wanted any of it to go public. She just wanted something that felt real, something that wasn’t tainted by the expectations of others. But now, the secret was out, and the world would have an opinion on it.

And as much as it terrified her, she realized she had to face the consequences of her actions. No more hiding. No more pretending. The game had changed.

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

liked by stelladayman, charles_leclerc, and others

ameliedayman: i guess is out of the bag

View all 2,438 comments

rodrigoriquelme: Contigo siempre, mi amor. Eres lo mejor que me ha pasado. 💙 → ameliedayman: @rodrigoriquelme Y tú el mío. Siempre juntos. ❤️

victoriadayman: Orgullosa de ustedes dos. ❤️ → ameliefan10: @victoriadayman Not the family approval making me cry. 🥺💕

ameliestan4life: THE HARD LAUNCH WE DESERVED!!! 😭💘 → futbolgirl09: @ameliestan4life She really said, “Here’s your confirmation, now leave me alone.” 😂

haters_gonna_hate89: She moves fast, huh? 🙄

barcafanboy77: Rodrigo bagged AMELIE DAYMAN? Bro won at life. 😭🔥 → soccerfangirl88: @barcafanboy77 Let’s be real, they both won. Power couple vibes. 😩✨

queenamelie89: I feel betrayed but also, go off queen. 😭👏

landosfanclub99: Lando punching the air right now. 🥴 → amelie_obsessed91: @landosfanclub99 STOP, I just choked. 💀💀

haterscorner01: Why is she always so extra? We get it, you’re dating a football player. 🙄

celebgossip34: Not the hard launch after the kiss pics leaked. The timing is perfection. 👀 → amelieupdates22: @celebgossip34 She said, “If you’re gonna talk, here’s the content to match.” ICONIC. 💅

soccerfan07: Amelie and Rodrigo are THAT couple now, huh? 💅 → amelie_stan07: @soccerfan07 YES, and I’m here for it. Finally, some real tea. 🫣✨

soccerchick22: This is serious. They’re about to be the new it couple. 💖🔥 → ameliedaymanfan: @soccerchick22 Honestly, they already are. Watch out, world. 😎✨

[kingkonoha]

ACTING // eren jaeger

➙ description: eren is your co-star who desperately wants to be with you.

➙ content: NSFW // 18+ ONLY // MINORS DNI, modern au, fem!reader, aot is a show that the characters are just acting in, reader is also an aot character.

Eren became an actor around the age of 6. He was very convincing when it came to throwing tantrums and filming emotional scenes in general, starring in small roles here and there for a little pocket change.

Carla was also always on set as well to watch over her baby, and she was not afraid to fight anyone who told her she couldn’t be around since she “wasn’t a crew member.”

When Eren got the lead role in Attack on Titan, he was nervous as hell. It was his first time playing a main character, and he wasn’t used to being involved in media with such a large fandom (and large paychecks as well.)

When it was announced that AoT would become a show, the fandom fancasted A and B list actors for the role, so when it was announced that he would be the main character, he was scared of how the fandom would react, being that he was just some unknown 15 year old at the time. He had to prove himself, but everyone ended up loving him.

Eren’s a sweetheart in real life. Despite how outgoing he is, he can get pretty shy when he’s around you. You were his co-star since day one.

At the time, you were more of a well known actor than Eren. He was actually a fan of you, and therefore, was so nervous to meet you. Connie, his best friend in real life, teased him about it constantly.

Years later, Eren became a seasoned actor, very well known, and entirely used to the money and fame. His fandom went crazy when he grew his hair out and got a couple of tattoos as he aged, and they definitely shipped the both of you.

You and Eren always had to mentally prepare for the hundreds of edits that would come out whenever the both of you had a scene together in the show, or when you both had to do an interview together to promote season 4.

Eren definitely didn’t help the situation. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you whenever you politely answered questions or cracked a few jokes during the interviews.

He publicly admitted during an interview that you were his celebrity crush, followed by a hot smirk that made you shift in your seat, right on camera.

It was rather obvious that he was crushing on you. When he was younger, they had to film scenes multiple times because of his blushing, or just flat out edit it out all together.

As an adult, he was tired of just crushing on you, though. He was tired of watching you date all of those useless Hollywood assholes, especially when they’d publicly break your heart. There was nothing worse than finding out that you were being cheated on by TMZ, or seeing that your private life was trending on twitter.

Your recent breakup was his last straw. You were sitting on Eren’s couch, crying your eyes out as you rambled on and on about what your recent ex had done. And Eren was pissed. He wasn’t just pissed off at the shitty singer who cheated on you during his international tour, but he was pissed off at himself for not having the courage to admit his feelings over the last several years. He knew that he’d never hurt you, and he could’ve saved you a lot of heartbreak if you were his.

A lot of Eren’s hesitation to make a move on you was due to the fact that he wasn’t the best when it came to expressing his feelings.

Therefore he decided to kiss you, and communicate his feelings that way. It was a gentle kiss, one where he moved in slowly in case you didn’t want him to kiss you, but also because he didn’t want to rush it. He didn’t want to hurry through such a special moment, a moment that he daydreamed about for years.

Your lips were so soft against his. Your skin was so smooth where he touched you. Your eyes were bright and shiny from your old tears. You were just so goddamn beautiful, he wanted more.

What started out as an innocent kiss turned into him looking down at you, his eyes scanning over your naked body. You were just as perfect as he imagined, and your cunt was just as tight and wet as he predicted.

It wasn’t in his nature to fuck someone slowly. He was a fan of rough sex and harsh thrusts, but not right now. With you, he wanted to take his time, entering you slowly and sinking his dick inside of you filling you up completely.

God, your moans were so beautiful, he wanted to fuck you forever. How could someone be so goddamn perfect? He couldn’t help but lean down and kiss you again, swirling his tongue around yours as he thrusted in and out of you gently.

“Eren…” you moaned.

Hearing his name fall from your lips so deliciously made him want to cum right then and there. He couldn’t help but pick up his speed, groaning as he did so.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” he mumbled against your ear.

You reached your limit first, digging your nails into his muscles as you came around his cock, and that made him finish as well. He couldn’t help but cum inside of you. Your pussy had weakened him until his sensitive body could barely move unless it was to chase the feeling of your cunt squeezing and gushing around his dick.

He didn’t want to stop, but he did, pulling out of you to give you a break, but he was hooked on the way you moaned his name forever, and he needed more of that.

Either way, he had achieved his number one dream of being with his celebrity crush and co-star, and he was happy.

♡ masterlist

♡ thanks for reading! don’t forget to like, reblog, & comment!

[sakashq]

hey so as your self proclaimed new bff. yeah. give me some pedri fluff with light angst. but not like your psycho cheating type angst. Okay.???? Got it.??

Right Here. pedri gonzález x footballer!reader

🤍 summary: The wedge between Désirée and Pedri begins to thicken as their rival teams begin to instigate the downfall of their relationship.

🤍 warnings: slight angst😓 not ‘psycho cheating type angst’ tho!!

🤍 face claim: my baby naomie feller <3

🤍 wc: 700+

🤍 yap! hi bells ily 💕 (i’m sorry) @planetpedri @ar4ujos @halfwayhearted @iovepoem @joaoflms @hrts4havertz

There was only a minute left in the match and the Real Madrid Femenino were beating the Athletic Club Femenino 1-0. Désirée were on the pitch, running the ball down the field. As a striker, it was mostly up to her to score. However, this defender was down her back, giving her no choice but to pass the ball. Passing it to your winger teammate, she kept sprinting to give her teammate a place to pass to.

Getting ahead of her defender, Désirée’s teammate passed the ball to her again and she took the shot. . . Goal!

The fans in the stands had began screaming and cheering, along with her teammates celebrating with her. Désirée did a different celebration this time, posing like a model as her best friend on the team, Linda Caicedo, acted as her photographer. The rest of her teammates caught on, Carla Camacho actually joining in.

As soon as that was over, her nearby teammates hugged her and she pointed to the stands; where her boyfriend, Pedri was, cheering her on.

Now, not many people knew about Désirée and Pedri’s relationship. It was a secret that only Linda and Gavi really knew about, deciding that the rivalry was too deep for it to be public. She still went to his matches, although not in his jersey. He insisted on coming to this one, deciding that he would just sit in a spot where no one important would see him. Of course Pedri was always wrong and Désirée was always right, because as soon as that celebration went on the internet, the sleuths of Real Madrid and Barcelona put two and two together that he was in fact in attendance.

Gavi alerted Pedri immediately, sending him a screenshot of what appeared to be him in the stands. Pedri physically felt his heart drop, the text making him look around with anxiety. It wasn’t that people knew that was the problem— it was that Désirée didn’t yet know that they were public now. He knew she was adamant on keeping it a secret, knowing the rivalry was going to push something into them. Of course Désirée was always right.

After the match, her and her team hit the locker rooms and changed to get on with their days. After done, Désirée went to go find Pedri where he said he’d be — just around the corner from the locker rooms.

When she spotted him, she gave him a smile. He hesitantly smiled back, unsure whether or not to break her happiness.

“Hi baby!” She exclaimed. “Did you see my goal?” Désirée wrapped her arms around him, giving him a kiss on the cheek as she did.

“Hey,” he replied. “Yeah, I saw it. You did amazing out there, Dés. I’m proud of you.”

Désirée let go of him, trying to hold in another smile. “Wanna go get dinner? After I shower and get dressed obviously.”

“Yeah, um, actually can I tell you something?” Worst way to state a question when speaking to Désirée. She immediately thought something was wrong. Maybe it was, but now her head was going into the worst places imaginable. Was it going to be over between them? Was he finally done with her?

She inhaled sharply, preparing herself for what ever was to come. “Anything.”

“Your celebration… Everyone found out. We’re all over the internet,” Pedri said sheepishly, fearing her reaction.

Dés didn’t speak for a second, freezing up. They found out? All because of some dumb gesture she made after her goal? What did people think about them? What did they think about her? Instead of discussing her worries she just said, “Oh, okay.”

Pedri raised a brow. “You’re not mad?”

“No I…” She knew what was to come. The internet was going to turn against Pedri for betraying Barcelona by getting with a Real Madrid player. They were going to hate her. Slaughter her. She just had to mentally prepare herself for this. “It’s fine. I don’t care if you don’t.”

“Déssie, we’ve been together for three months and never have you said you wanted to be public. What’s going on?” Pedri inquired.

“Nothing. Maybe it was time to go public,” Désirée shrugged. “Come on, let’s go.”

Back at Dés’ apartment, Pedri waited for her to be done with her shower and getting ready so they could go to dinner together. What she didn’t know, though, was that Pedri’s friends began to influence him to leave her.

This wasn’t even the worst of it. Girls flooded Pedri’s DMs saying that they could treat him better than she ever could and even threatened to kill her. It made Pedri think, did he really want you to have to suffer through all of this? She didn’t deserve this treatment and most definitely didn’t deserve the death threats.

Désirée came out of the bathroom, freshly out of the shower. Pedri was sitting on her bed, scrolling through the endless messages of ‘Pedri, leave that Madrid girl!’ As soon as he saw her, he shut the phone off.

Dés noticed this immediately and asked concerningly, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. You check your phone since after the match?” Pedri questioned.

“No, why?”

“Nothing. I, um, don’t think I’m gonna make it to dinner tonight. They just pushed our training up to early in the morning and I’m kind of tired,” He told her. She frowned slightly, but understood.

Désirée nodded and said, “That’s fine. Let me know when you get home, okay?”

He nodded in return, getting up and leaving the bedroom. No hug or kiss? He never left her without giving her one or the other. He also never just left with barely an explanation. And his phone. Why’d he turn it off as soon as he saw her? Was there another girl he was going to see?

“Okay, bye?” She stood up, walking to her doorway and watching him open her front door. It came out like a question, like a ‘Hello, why didn’t you say anything?’

“Bye,” Pedri said.

“I love you,” she replied, just as he shut the door.

She’d checked his location. He was home and he had been for twenty minutes. No text, no call. Maybe he fell asleep. Maybe he was busy. Or maybe that other girl was at his house.

Désirée didn’t know anything. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know. If he was cheating did she really want to find out, especially with their relationship still blossoming?

Despite trying to fight the urge, she called him. His voice sounded from the other line after three rings. “Hello?”

“Did I do something wrong?” She immediately asked. She just wanted to know answers.

“Dés, can we not do this right now?”

That set her off. “Are you serious? Are you fucking serious? I’m trying to have a genuine conversation with you and you’re saying ‘can we not do this right now?’”

“Désirée, have you even checked Instagram? My friends, my fans, my teammates are all saying things about you and our relationship and it’s throwing me off. People are threatening to kill you, Dés. You don’t deserve to be with someone whose fans will risk jail time for their idol.” She felt her heart break with these words, the tone in his voice physically killing her.

She didn’t even know how to respond. Once she did, her voice began to crack and tears stung in her eyes. “So what, you’re breaking up with me? Because of your fans?”

“Now that you say it, it sounds stupid but I… I don’t want to put you through that.”

Désirée wiped a stray tear from her face and replied, “Pedri, I’m willing to endure it all if it means I get to be with you. I don’t want our relationship to end over something this stupid.”

“I know, I know. Please don’t cry, Déssie. I love you. I just want what’s best for you. I’m right here.”

“Don’t do this, Pedri. Please.”

“Okay. But if anything happens that will hurt you, I can’t promise to stay. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Désirée calmed herself down, wiping her face. “I’m sorry, I love you.”

“Why are you apologizing, baby?” He sounded genuinely concerned, like he felt awful for hurting her.

“I… I don’t know. Don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

“I promise. Always and forever.”

She repeated softly, “Always and forever.”

[fallenandinlovewithhumanity]

Watched 9-1-1 for the first time (and caught up) Here are some unsolicited and unfiltered opinions about our fave gay firefighter show.

Bobby Nash: Must be protected at all costs. Traumatized dad doing his gosh darn best. So happy he is loved by the 118 and that he seems to be accepting that more now.

Athena Grant: There's a post out here somewhere about how people named after gods/goddess embody that deity. And Athena? Yeah she does exactly that. That woman deserves so much respect for the badass she is.

Howie "Chimney" Han: Silly goofy man who needs a hug and appreciation. His storyline with Kevin and every parallel to Albert made my heart hurt.

Evan "Buck" Buckley: Sweet baby boy, the firefighter Dean Winchester of another universe. I LOVE THIS MAN. Seeing him smile on screen is so infectiously amazing and I want to send a strongly worded letter to all the writers who are clearly trying to make sure I stay in the "fix-it" tag of Ao3. He is by far my comfort character in the show and someone needs to tell that man that he is loved.

Eddie Diaz: If I had to describe my type in two words it would be "Eddie Diaz." Holy fucking shit. (<- written by Buck.) But seriously, I've seen some stuff about how he's not the "best" latino representation because he does not have any specific cultural storylines ( I would love to see celebrations or other cultural things too, maybe for 8B and onward) but I for one feel represented plenty by his complicated relationship with expectations coming from his parents, partners (former or otherwise,) and himself.

Hen Wilson: GIVE THIS WOMAN A BREAK. I love her and it seems like she is always hurting when it comes to her family. Please give my queen a goddamn break. Some domestic bliss would do her kindly.

Maddie Buckley Han: When I say that I would die for her to be safe and happy, I mean it. The Buckley siblings have dealt with so much but Maddie, her storylines not only hit something compelling and dramatic but they are also too fucking real.

Christopher Diaz: I love him. Amazing. A fucking king. No Notes. Please come back to your dad(s).

Carla Price: LOVE THIS LOVELY HUMAN.

The Grant-Nash Fam: Harry and May are interesting characters and I really do love seeing them on screen, I understand why we see less of them though. Michael and David were lovely as well.

The Wilsons: Imma repeat what I said earlier, give them an episode where the biggest thing to happen is juice boxes getting left behind. They need a break. And give Karen more damn screen time that isn't just crying and fighting with Hen.

Josh Russo: the pre-Glee/ post Glee explanation was gold.

Captain Vincent Gerrard: Grumpy old man that needed a cozy job. Loved his "taking you under my wing" moment with Buck.

The Bigger Love Interests (Eddie):

Ana: I really liked her character, but saw how much anxiety was embedded into that relationship. She was never sure of her place and he was never sure he was ready.

Marisol: This felt weirdly rushed and like it happened mostly off screen. The nun thing was... catholic guilt intro I guess??

Shannon: Oof. The drama, the need for closure. I enjoyed having her on screen and I cried when she passed.

The Bigger Love Interests (Buck):

Abby: He was much more invested in the relationship and I think part of it was the circumstances but the way she left him was so damaging to his psyche. Not a fan.

Ali and Natalia: They did not leave a lasting impression on me. Though Natalia being interested in Buck because he died did raise some red flags.

Taylor: Listen... I love her fierce independence so much. But she did Buck so dirty. Trust issues and abandonment issues for Buck coming right back up.

Tommy: Narratively speaking, I tried to understand why he happened but I don't. His confusion at the beginning of the relationship just made me think that he just went along with what Buck thought he wanted. As a character, that man felt a bit one dimensional, and when he showed an ounce of personality it was always an interaction with Buck that made him feel lesser than. I feel blessed that man is off my screen.

The Writing/ The Plot:

At this point I am watching for the two idiots sharing a brain cell. But.. the disasters and plots are out of left field and really interesting. It takes a lot for a procedural type show to not fall into formulaic/ average 911 calls and I feel like at least one writer has a subreddit or something pinned to get ideas. I am far too invested in the 118 to leave now.

What do I ship at this point?

Buck and Eddie.

Athena and Bobby.

Maddie and Chim.

Hen and Karen.

Would I recommend this show?

Abso-fucking-lutely... if you enjoy some pain, I swear all these characters go through so much and the tissue boxes are not enough.

Thanks 9-1-1 for bringing me back to Tumblr.

And if anyone has headcanons, I would love to hear them!

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Since you've published "Doppelganger," I've been thinking more and more about Jon's base. Are they still in contact? Are they close/siblings? Do they know Jon's a shapeshifter? Did they die tragically to kick off Jon's CW protagonist angst? Are they perhaps the surprise villain for the season 1 finale?

The possibilities are endless. I feel like seeing Shifty's relationship with his base could have both Marcy and Jon thinking about the similarities and differences between their relationships with their bases.

Although they might have different come to the conclusion that Shifty's base is another part of why he's a bit strange even for a shifter. I don't know if this is true but it seems like Shifty had multiple bases (his parents, Stan, Carla, Dan) since he was maturing at a faster rate until he synced up with Tate.

oho! Someone has finally asked me about my boy Jon Doe! He has a very tragic relationship with his base, as the protagonist of a grim supernatural drama series.

Jon Doe does not have a base, because his base is dead. He and his original family were in an accident while on vacation when he was a kid, where he received incredible head trauma and got amnesia, forgetting he was a shapeshifter at all. Everyone thought he wasn't going to make it, and no one could find out who he was. The only reason he wasn't discovered as a shapeshifter was because of some quick maneuvering of his mentor, who then abandoned him when they thought he was going to die.

Thats why his name is Jon Doe, it was what the nurses called him at the hospital and was put on all his paperwork. Except he didnt die, and so now thats what his name became when he got shuffled to an orphanage. His shift grew from him subconsciously watching all the children around him grow, giving him strange growth spurts and weird proportions until it evened out as an adult. He doesn't look how his base would have looked like as an adult, because his form changed to mimic a lot of people around him. It did mean he had no friends and everyone thinking he was creepy unfortunately. He was unintentionally the orphanages horror monster.

Thats also why he looked at Marcy to answer all of Shifty's shapeshifter related questions, because he straight up is also still learning the ins and out's of his culture. The grim dark drama started when he entered college, after finally escaping his sad life as an orphan and finally striking out on his own, only to stumble into the horrors of the supernatural and learning he has weird abilities. Marcy is actually technically his mentor, even though he's an adult, because she's the one who finally told him he wasnt human and then had to deal with his whole panic attack from it, making him her responsibility.

Shifty and Tate's relationship definitely make Marcy think about her and Darcy's relationship. They used to be close until college, where Darcy went onto higher education while Marcy went to shapeshifter boot camp (similar to Stan's with Maurice in Doppelganger). When she finished her boot camp and came to check up on her base (not because she cares or anything, just to make sure no one snatched her) she found Jon and thought he was trying to kidnap her not twin. Then it was revealed that Marcy wasnt human, and her and Darcy had an angsty fight about how real their relationship was.

The 'arcy's both want the kind of relationship Shifty and Tate have, which is the kind Darcy thought they had as kids and the one Marcy pretended to have (and secretly was real to her), except they're from a grim dark drama, so obviously theres loads of miscommunication and angsty reasons why they cant.

You're also correct in that Tate just makes Marcy ask more questions. Because he's very obviously Shifty's base, since they're the same age, except Shifty doesnt look like Tate. Because Tate is not his only base. Technically Shifty's original base is a coffee cup, except that didn't work out long term lol, so it switched to Ford, leading to his fast growth. It only started slowing down when Stan showed him the TV, and he started mimicing all the kids and puppets he saw, then finally Tate, since Tate was someone Shifty could physically interact with. By Shapeshifter standards, he was copying all the adults around him as he grew, so they all count as his base, which explains his mixed look.