#and i started these about a year and a half ago

[housepartyprotocol]

Maple leaves

Hockey player!Oscar Piastri x driver!reader

Summary: YN is a Redbull driver and gets introduced to a certain NHL team, and a certain player Masterlist / TipJar

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, and mapleleafs and 42,639 others

oscarpiastri Coming to the end of the season strong!

view all 105 comments

user he is such a man whore lordy look at him

user delectable user how is he not taken user HES SINGLE !?!

user raw. next question.

user UNHINGED

user I wanna move to Canada to breathe the same air as him

user I am from his hometown in Australia and that's my biggest achievement

ynusername

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, alexalbon and 532,620 others

ynusername Just a day of packing while wearing my teammates merch

view all 402 comments

user redbull merch is redbull merch regardless of the driver

user soft launching ...

user i doubt it, max has a baby coming user omg DILF

maxverstappen we all know you are immediately unpacking that suitcase

ynusername the things i do for the aesthetic maxverstappen and why would you pack a book you finished a month ago ynusername huh how maxverstappen i follow your Goodreads, we need to talk ynusername NO IGNORE MY READS user shes a smut reader omg user that wasn't on my bingo card

landonorris AUSTRALIAAAAAA

ynusername TIME FOR THONGS ynuersname that sounds strange ynusername nope im sticking with flipflops user HAH landonorris I WANNA WEAR A THONG landonorris ;)

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, and mapleleafs and 35,747 others

oscarpiastri I'm homesick

view all 97 comments

user Melbourne mention

user 5 minutes and a hair tie

user go to horny jail

user I got this just after the F1 post about the season starting in MELBOURNE

user crossover user no because a F1 x NHL crossover would be so sick! user @ F1 HEAR OUR WISHES

ynusername

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, yukitsunoda and 654,224 others

ynusername it feels good to be back

view all 398 comments

user the queen is back on her throne

user WINNERR user since she got in the redbull she is a force to be reckoned with user she deserves everything

user shes a bitch

user GET OUT SHOO OUT

landonorris I hate you

ynusername I hate you too ynusername I hate the mullet landonorris NOT THE MULLET alexalbon NOT THE MULLET maxverstappen that was low, holy hell

landonorris

liked by ynusername, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri and 745,221 others

landonorris managed to get tickets to see my favourite hockey team. Took a doofus and now shes a bigger fan than me. Owns more merch than me

view all 573 comments

user they are such a cute couple omg

user they aren't user they aren't ?? user nope they just friends since karting

ynusername I slayyed that photoshoot

landonorris you are welcome ynusername I am learning more about the game every time I watch now ynusername would it be traitorous to switch teams now, i like this Jack Hughes with the devils landonorris NO YOU WILL STAY A MAPLE FAN user YN x Jack Hughes would be so cute user god all people do is ship her with people

mapleleafs Come back soon

landonorris WE WILL user F1 x NHL crossover LOOMING

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, and mapleleafs, 29,977 others

oscarpiastri Ending the season cold, always.

view all 87 comments

user I wanna be that ice water

user that's such a strange way to say you find him hot user I wanna be it too though

user I can't believe we now have to wait like half a year for more ice bath pics

user I am so sad that the hockey is almost over but the F1 is just starting !! so my calendar is always full

user He can't be single, look at this man

ynusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, pierregasly, and 587,964 others

ynusername MIAMIIIIIII (cue feral behaviour)(yes redbull admin this is non-alcoholic, no drunk driving)

view all 306 comments

user THIS IS MIAMI

user her and lando become demons in Miami user it is so fun

maxverstappen maybe not that one, but the others..

ynusername don't spread such BLASPHEMY maxverstappen you remained sober completely ynusername I did, i just drank alot of caffeine landonorris ah a proper redbull advocate

user WHY DID I AGAIN SCROLL TO THIS FROM A NHL POST

user what NHL post? user the post Oscar Piastri did about him and some of this teammates at the Miami GP user OMG WHY ARE THEY THERE user Idk, they must be fans

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, and redbullracing, and 42,875 others

oscarpiastri This getting into a new sport thing is fun

view all 121 comments

user NHL x F1 crossover !

user omg yes my life is complete user I am now trying to work out which of his teammates are F1 fans

user He is such a cutie

user OKAY I NEED OSCAR X YN CONTENT NOW

user they have never interacted user true, they could though

ynusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri and 604,887 others

ynusername had a wonderful time. suck it lando I got an autograph.

view all 435 others

user i love it when famous people are fans of other famous people

user whose signature is that?

user I think it is Oscar Piastri, he was there, and he plays for the Toronto Maple Leafs user she is now such a fan, everyone thank Lando

landonorris I got an autograph too

ynusername yeah you got a piece of paper signed landonorris it was the back of an important document mclaren what ynusername HA ynusername and you called me crazy for packing my hat landonorris you were crazy, but it paid off

user couple alert

user calm tf down

redbullracing

liked by ynuersname, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri and 104,520 others

redbullracing Just Leaving This Here

view all 153 comments

user OKAY maybe redbull got the team tickets to Miami...

user OMGOMGOMGOMGGG

user what are the Toronto Maple Leafs?

user they are an NHL team user huh user hockey

user okay so players in a car or drivers on the ice

user DRIVERS ON ICE PLEASE

ynusername

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 548,125 others

ynusername some recent vibes

view all 355 comments

user HOT HANDS GAWD

user omg shes lucky is that her boyfriend

user they look like Lando's hands user no he wouldnt wear that watch though

danielricciardo giddyup

ynusername aren't my boots beautiful danielricciardo need them in my life ynusername don't think they are your size

landonorris very neutral aesthetic, very demure

user WHERE DID HE LEARN THAT ynusername why yes ynusername but don't say that again its weird from you maxverstappen you can call me demure Lando ynusername you are anything but demure landonorris ignore her, max you are very demure ynusername EVERYONE STOP SAYING DEMURE

user shes taken? i thought she was single

user no one is confirming either way user who? user no idea

redbullracing

liked by ynusername, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri and 210,526 others

redbullracing admin can happily say they died of laughter in the making of this...

view all 98 comments

user omg YN and Max ice skating with the team?

user god why won't drivers just stick to racing what's with all this unnecessary extra stuff

user YN so campaigned for this crossover to annoy Lando that she met the team

user I would too, have you seen them, like Oscar Piastri, DAMN

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, ynusername, mapleleafs, and 40,545 others

oscarpiastri Back home in time for the start of another dose of winter

view all 85 comments

user he just leaves these here and doesn't address them. Sir this is a thirst trap

user all he does is thirst trap (no one complain) user do you think if he gets a girlfriend he will stop thirst-trapping user i hope NOT user i'll just have to resort to Pinterest

user wait if he is in Australia then did he not take part in the Redbull F1 thing

user I think they have already filmed it user PHEW

ynusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen, and 600,010 others

ynusername Spain you were perfect

view all 230 comments

user redbull domination!

user the queen is leading the championship!!

user YESS user I hope she wins!

user god she's hot

user god you only watch the racing for the hot drivers woah user no that's stupid as fuck user sorry just felt appropriate to turn tables for once

maxverstappen you make me take a million photos of you and you don't even credit me

ynusername gosh i am sooooo sorry (not) ynusername everyone thank Max for taking the photo of me user thank you landonorris thank you ynusername why you landonorris you said everyone!

maxverstappen thats true you did, thank you Lando

user Why are we still waiting for Redbull racing to release the hockey crossover!

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, redbullracing and 61,813 others

oscarpiastri Go check out the newest video on both Toronto Maple Leafs and Redbull Racings youtube!!

view all 98 comments

user OMG DID YOU SEE IT

user YN cannot SKATE HOLY HELL

user Oscar making goo goo eyes at that girl the entire time

user you mean YN, Redbull racing F1 driver user you have a lot to learn, she is amazing

user the camera panning as Max Verstappen just slowly skated directly into the wall and then fell over

user I DIED

user I came for the crossover, i stayed for this man WOOF

user I thought the girl in that youtube what his girlfriend user dont think so

user YUMMY

maxverstappen

liked by ynusername, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 514,657 others

maxverstappen What I felt like while filming. What YN looked like while filming. And then that.

view all 193 comments

user she is just FLAT

user im sorry Max that photo does not fit them vibe, its too hot

user you are so right

user She could not skate

user max was worse he is just hiding it!

ynusername you have done me so dirty, i will never forgive you

maxverstappen oh no, what ever will i do now ynusername i will run you off the track redbullracing no you wont ynusername no I wont maxverstappen haha mum told you off ynusername bully

landonorris she was so shit, serves her right

ynusername FOR WHAT landonorris FOR MEETING LOADS OF THE TEAM ynusername yeah I did do that, SUCK IT maxverstappen children, not in the comments

ynusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, georgerussell and 622,548 others

ynusername got myself a red hot date

view all 353 comments

user MAMA

user the hand placement, she knows what she is doing

user I wanna be her

user I want to be both of them, I am undecided

landonorris this is why you were being evasive about whether you were coming out with us or not

ynusername guilty as charged ynusername can you blame me landnorris I dont swing like that but no i do not maxverstappen do you know who that is landonorris I might im not sure, hold on ill text you user NO LANDO KEEP IT HERE WE NEED TO KNOW

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, redbullracing, and 70,623 others

oscarpiastri Really liking this racing thing

view all 53 comments

user HES AT SILVERSTONE OMG

user SIR what you doing there

user the redbull garage, he was so invited by YN

user or max... or the team user I bet by YN so much

user no thirst trap..

user that photo is cute user yes but where is the HOT user has he been domesticated...

landonorris

liked by ynusername, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri, and 655,012 others

landonorris Party. Party. Party.

view all 293 comments

user what is in the water, its thirst trap after thirst trap

user shush you'll spook them away

user I want that man

ynusername Slut

landonorris you are calling me a slut? ynusername man whore ynusername bully landonorris what did i do landonorris OH i see what i did landonorris HOW DO I DELETE A PIC ynusername GRRRR

user DID LANDO JUST EXPOSE YN RELATIONSHIP

user NO IT LOOKS LIKE IT user DAMN ITS BLURRY WHO IS THAT

ynusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 532,124 others

ynusername You know I dont love a london boy

view all 291 comments

user she is dropping hints!

user that mans back, yum

user this is so aesthetic

landonorris this is humorous

ynusername how so landonorris you down bad ynusername who said that landonorris everything you are doing, it is as new you landonorris i take credit ynusername HOW landonorris ;)

maxverstappen I feel like as your teammate i need to give you the talk after all of these photos

ynusername EW NO you arent my dad maxverstappen I wasnt saying that, its more, big brother vibes landonorris Ill join in ynusername gosh, i hate you all maxverstappen young lady!

user why is lando taking credit

user did he introduce them? user hear me out, introduced YN to his team... Becuase its Oscar Piastri user who?

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, mapleleafs, and 63,201 others

oscarpiastri recently

view all 82 comments

user HES TAKEN

user bye bye thirst traps

user i wanna be her omg

user do you think she is canadian or australian user she could be neither

user he looks GOOOD

user he HAS been domesticated user it looks good on him

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen, and 684,886 others

ynusername he is definitely not a London boy

view all 394 comments

user he is an ASSUIE BOY

user i feel like im suppose to know who that is

user its Oscar Piastri user ill google

user shes so lucky

user HE is so lucky

landonorris if you switch teams now, its divorce

ynusername i knowwwww ynusername i'll just dream out the Red Devils oscarpiastri you will do no such thing, I am not moving teams landonorris See even he agrees ynusername I hate you both

maxverstappen lets keep it PG in front of the children

maxverstappen happy for you pipsqueak ynusername we agreed to never use that name again maxverstappen sorry, happy for you teammate ynusername better, ish ynusername thank you <3 ynusername ALso what part is NOT pg

user F1 x NHL crossover FOREVERRRR

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, maxverstappen, and 81,235 others

oscarpiastri I think I officially love this racing thing

view all 102 comments

user RIP Oscar Piastri thirst traps

user RIP user RIP

user He is down bad, its cute

ynusername Yum

oscarpiastri what? ynusername nothing, just you ;) user she is just like us I fear

user she is so pretty

user him being decked out in her merch just feels right

user him going to all the races!

landonorris YN WE GOING TO ALL THE MATCHES

ynusername fans for life babygirl landonorris ew why babygirl oscarpiastri yeah.. ynusername becuase look at him, he is BABYGIRL oscarpiastri fairs sorry x landonorris HUH

[draconym]

Tell us more about the Spricket Dungeon? I'm admittedly morbidly curious now

A lot of people have a spricket dungeon in their basement. Sprickets, or "spider crickets," commonly called cave crickets or camel crickets, are cave adapted (trogloxene) fauna and have been living alongside humans (also trogloxenes) for probably tens of thousands of years. The oldest known illustration of an insect is of a cave cricket, carved into a bison bone in France somewhere between twelve and seventeen thousand years ago.

While harmless, a cave cricket is like if a water buffalo were the size of a blueberry and could subsist entirely on mold and autocannibalism. So any dark and humid place where you might find a hint of mildew or dust seems sufficient to sustain a breeding population, and if they somehow end up in a sterile environment, cave crickets can live for months without any food at all. Roaches get all the credit for being nature's most indestructible vermin, but I think cave crickets are equally likely to withstand nuclear apocalypse, especially considering their tendency to live deep underground.

My old house's spricket dungeon was a crawl space under the stairs where we kept snow shovels, paint cans, and bicycles. There was a lot of debris in the closet when we first moved in, and I suspect us cleaning it out was what started the crickets' slow population decline. My housemates and I occasionally caught them or laid down duct tape traps, but mostly the crickets stayed in their artificial cave and only one or two would venture out into the rest of the basement each day.

Stomping on them was out of the question. Not only did it seem too violent, it was also deeply unpleasant to imagine popping them like grapes underfoot. Additionally, those fuckers are fast. I mentioned this in my last post, but their primary defense mechanism really is launching themselves at your face, and it's very effective. Imagine if the water buffalo the size of a blueberry could jump three feet in the air, and it was pissed.

It didn't usually disturb the crickets if you opened the door to pull out a bike. They were mostly carpeting the far wall of unpainted cinderblocks. But if you turned on the closet light bulb, they often started hopping in every direction, and their fat bodies thumping against the linoleum made a hollow 'pop' sound similar to a popcorn kernel in a paper bag. Now imagine dozens of them doing that at once in your direction.

Over the thirteen years we lived in that house, my housemates and I saw the population of sprickets dwindle to about a dozen, but we rarely went more than a week without seeing one. They're much less common in the house we moved to a year and a half ago. We see perhaps one small one a month, rarely any bigger than a skittle, and significantly more timid when not surrounded by an entire cricket metropolis.

I don't particularly want to share my house with them. But they are kind of an inevitability in most human homes, as they have been since we were living in caves. So I do try to regard them as fellow cave dwellers with as much awe and kindness as I can muster, whether I see them in my basement or in the Appalachian karst.

[usercelestial]

What if Evan Buckley decides fuck it I quit my job because nothing makes me happy anymore and opens a bakery and then Tommy starts ordering pastries from him for the 217 and they finally reconcile after buck makes him the best damn chocolate muffins Tommy's ever eaten

Tommy's been ordering from this bakery for the last five years. After he was promoted to captain of the 217, he made it a point to bring in treats to win over his old coworkers turned employees. He orders a couple dozen muffins once every week to keep people happy. Originally, it was supposed to be one time but goddamn if they weren't the best damn muffins Tommy's ever had. His crew was happy enough with the incentive and it became somewhat of a tradition at Harbor that a delivery boy would show up at their door with a few pristine white boxes to hand over to Captain Kinard. 

Five years and he's never had a problem getting the pastries delivered on time. Early in the morning of the day of delivery, before the sun even came up, he got an email explaining that his delivery had been cancelled and a refund had been processed. 

"Shit," Tommy wipes the sleep from his eyes and sits up. He has to get to work in a few hours and he knows his crew well enough to know how cranky they'd be if they had nothing to start the morning with. He fumbles out of bed, throws on his clothes, and heads down to the bakery to see what he can do. 

It's a little place not too far from Harbor. It's called something like Emergency Eats, it has a cliche first responder theme. First responders get a 15 percent off discount with each order so the weekly spending makes it a little worth it. 

Tommy rushes inside, the sun barely having risen and the cold morning air settling on his skin. The bakery is light and warm around him. It feels like one of those places someone would call home. The decor stays true to the theme and centers firefighters. On the wall behind the counter, there's a mural of a fire station. Along the wall in the dining area, there are pictures of different first responders. He recognizes Athena in one and smiles to himself. The tiles are black and white checkered and there's even a fire pole standing next to the counter. He walks up to it and rings the gaudy bell that hangs from the ceiling that says “pull for service” despite the immense amount of cringe he feels while doing it. 

“Be right there!” 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

He knows that voice. He’s spent five years thinking about this voice, dreaming about it, being haunted by it. He’s spent five years feeling terrified of hearing it on the radio, at an emergency, on the street. 

Evan Buckley walks through the curtain that covers the entrance to the kitchen, holding a tray of pink and white colored cookies. 

“Oh fuck,” Buck’s face goes ghostly white and his knuckles strain to keep grip on the tray. 

The room is still and quiet in the soft morning glow. The black and white tiles are painted with the delicate shadows casted from the trees lining the sidewalk. The two men breathe the same air and let the shock wash over them. 

Tommy isn’t allowed to break the silence first. He relinquished that right when he walked out of Buck’s life five years ago. Buck seems to pick up on the fragile air between them and breaks the quiet for the both of them, “Are you here about your muffins?” He sounds apologetic, maybe a little weak. 

“Uh,” Tommy kicks up invisible dust on the ground, “Yeah, I was gonna see if I could order something else if you’re out of the ones I normally order.” 

“Okay, listen, I’m sorry about the delivery mishap, it’s just that normally I have more people delivering but most of them are out sick and I’ve been so busy lately and I just-” 

Buck continues babbling while Tommy only half listens, questions burning in throat. 

“Is this your shop?” Tommy interrupts. 

Buck’s face dances between expressions before landing on surprised, “I thought you-” he cuts himself off and shakes his head, “Yeah. Yeah, this is my shop.” 

“You're not at the 118 anymore? You're-you’re not a firefighter?” 

Buck glanced down at his feet and puts the tray of cookies down on the counter. He takes a deep breath and speaks, “I thought maybe Eddie or Chimney would have told you.” 

Tommy furrows his brows, “We don't talk that much about-” he swallows, “you know…” About Buck. About them. About the breakup. He hasn't heard a word about Buck in five years. He hasn't even heard his name. 

“Yeah,” Buck nods his understanding. 

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. 

“Um, yeah, this is my shop,” Buck continues, “I opened it about five years ago. A few months after.” 

They're dancing around saying it. Tommy's not sure how much longer they can keep this up for. 

“Why’d you quit?” Tommy asks. That's the question at the center of this whole thing. Why, why, why. 

Buck blinks, like he’s got something at the tip of his tongue but it caught between his teeth, “Few reasons.” He looks down at his legs again, “Uh, I got into an accident a while back. It took me out of the field for a while and I-” Buck stops and searched for the words, “I couldn't think of many reasons to go back to how things were before so I figured it was time for a fresh start.” 

Tommy lets the information wash over him. He can't imagine Buck being content with being out of the field but this bakery- it's tribute to first responders, it's pictures on the wall of smiling firefighters and dispatch operators- it's peaceful. It's like he’s found the happiest middle ground possible. 

“P-plus, I teach on the side,” Buck adds like an afterthought, “Part time, it's good money. Only have class a few days a week so it gives me time to run the bakery and keep business up.” 

Tommy smiles at that. Buck was always a busy-body, constantly needing to be moving in order to stay stimulated. Without being a firefighter, Tommy had wondered how he manages with all the extra free time but of course Buck would fill the days however he could. He’s never been sedentary and he won't start now. 

“Sounds like you've been busy,” Tommy comments lamely. Like he's a stranger. Like this is just small talk. It's almost nice. The small talk- pretending these small intimacies are something he still gets to enjoy. 

A moment passes before Buck claps his hands, “Your muffins!” He disappears into the kitchen and bustles around. Tommy can see his shadow passing through the window in the center of the wall. 

When Buck re-emerges, he’s holding the signature box of muffins that gets delivered to his station. “For you. We had them, it's just that I couldn't get them to you. Sorry about that.” 

Tommy shakes his head and steps forward to grab them, “No, don't worry about it. They're just for my crew, I’m the captain now and I’m trying to keep everyone happy.” 

“Captain?” Buck quirks an eyebrow, tilts his head, and smirks. Tommy's heart hurts. “You've been busy too.” 

“You could say that,” Tommy tries not to overthink whether or not it sounds like he’s flirting. He doesn't know if he intends it or not. Instead he focuses on the way Buck ducks his head and hides his smile. Tommy feels like a wrong move here is going to cost him. He wants to be delicate, he wants to flirt, he wants to friend-zone him, he wants to reach across the counter and pull him in and never let him go. It's been five years, it's been seconds, it's been no time at all. Seeing Buck again feels like taking your first breath after being underwater for too long. His lungs are burning. The right thing to do is to keep burning. It's selfish to do anything else. To gasp for breath the way he wants to. But- 

“Listen, Buck, if it's easier on you guys,” Tommy mentally flays himself for starting the sentence, “I could swing by in person instead. So you don't have to worry about delivering to us.” 

Buck considers him. Tommy waits for him to say what they both already know. That it’s not a good idea, they should lose contact, forget each other. 

Buck sucks his teeth. Suddenly, Tommy feels a wall rise between them. Then he exhales and says, “On one condition.” 

Tommy shrugs, keeping himself nonchalant, “Of course.” Anything, obviously, I’d do anything. 

“You can't call me Buck. It’s Evan or nothing” 

Every alarm is going off in his head. Red, blaring sirens that have always told when to run sing through his skull and fall on deaf ears. 

“I can do that, Evan.” 

Evan smiles. For the time, the smile finally reaches his eyes. They twinkle like they used to. This is such a bad idea. 

“Same time next week?” Tommy holds the basket with one hand and does finger guns with the other. He’ll never stop embarrassing himself. 

“You know where to find me,” Evan leans against the wall, blue apron tied cutely around his waist. There's a pink tint to his cheeks that Tommy tries not to read into. Gentle is the name of the game and he’s trying not to let himself expect anything he shouldn't. They're just two old friends catching up once a week. Tommy's just a customer in Evan’s shop. They hardly know each other anymore. 

Maybe they’ll get to know each other better than before he cut loose and ran. Or maybe Tommy will just become a recurring customer. He’s nervous to find out which. Either way, he leaves the shop far too excited for the week to come to an end. His crew comment on his quote-unquote glowing cheeks and far off look in his eyes. 

Picking up muffins becomes Tommy’s favorite part of the week. 

[kingofthecotas]

paperweight pt. 1 | ao3

luca & marc teammate fic. set mostly in 2027 | ~1.5k

——

Luca finishes the 2026 season with a plate in his collarbone and a handful of third-place trophies, which is enough for now. 

He has next year, but he doesn’t really want to think about that. Not yet. 

For now, he’ll let Bez drag them all to a bar in Valencia—the same bar Ducati are celebrating in—and praise everything he believes in that the test starts on Tuesday rather than tomorrow. 

It’s thronged with red when they get inside; good, they can collect Pecco, and let go a little more knowing they’re only surrounded by the paddock rather than the general public. The centre of the scarlet storm, of course, is Marc, bright and happy, arm slung around one of his mechanic’s shoulders as they laugh through the song they’re trying to sing. 

It should be bittersweet, and maybe they’ll all feel it tomorrow, but for now, Marc Márquez is going out on a high. Nine times a champion.

They’ve lost Franky somewhere, and when they find a booth—when Bez politely asks some Ducati engineers for their booth—Cele instantly disappears in the direction of the bar.

Rude. Whatever. 

Luca accepts a beer as recompense for being abandoned, and waves Migno over when he spots him through the crowd.

“Crazy!” Mig yells. “Stay here! Getting a drink.”

When Bez reappears from—somewhere, he has four beers clutched in his hands. Luca doesn’t know how he managed to weave through the crowd without the glass bottles, condensation-slick, slipping through his fingers. “Can’t find Pecco.”

Laughter cuts through the chatter, through the bass-heavy music; Marc has found Álex, both of them jumping up and down, drinks in hand. 

“Is Vale coming?” Cele asks, half-way to drunk already. He’d had some drinks in the garage, of course, with the SpeedUp team, a farewell, a congratulations, a good luck, and Bez seems to have the same head start. 

“No.” Luca shakes his head. “He says he’s too old for this shit.” 

Bez laughs, beer already gone, eyes already wide. “Let’s—let’s look for Pecco. And more drinks! Cele, let’s go.”

And Luca’s alone again. Assholes. He finishes one beer and goes for another bottle. Really, it’s good to have a quiet moment, a breath to collect himself—

Someone slides a tray in front of him, glasses clinking. He looks up, meets Pecco’s gaze.

“What’s this?”

“I am saying good luck.” Pecco plucks a shot glass from the tray. “And also celebrating the end of the worst two years of my life.”

Luca frowns through the alcohol. “You like Marc.” Because Marc is the worst person in the world to have as a teammate. He’s annoying and difficult. He races hard, sometimes too hard, and he apologises for it. Because when Marc had crashed them both out in Austria, he’d apologised. When Pecco had crashed them both out in Silverstone, Marc had forgiven him. When Pecco had won the championship in 2025, Marc had been the first one there to pull him into an embrace before handing him over to Valentino (not a glance shared between them). When Marc won the championship two rounds ago, crossing the line in second, it was Pecco who wrapped an arm around his shoulders on the podium and pulled him up to the top step. 

(And Portimão, they can never forget Portimão, and Franky.) 

“I like Marc,” Pecco agrees. “But get ready for Vale to make excuses to be in your box, and for Marc to ignore him, and for both of them to stare when the other isn’t looking. Marc will crash, and Vale will pretend he isn’t worried. Marc will look for him when he is not there. And they will never talk except to say hello.” He tips his head and gulps the shot, lips curling. “Disgusting.”

“They spoke in the paddock today,” Luca argues, but he reaches for a glass himself. 

“Could you imagine if he didn’t?” Pecco laughs sharply. “Nine championships, and not a word?” 

Fair. Vale is nothing if not fully aware of how to operate in front of the media, in front of the world watching through camera lenses. Luca sighs, raises the glass, tips it back. “Fuck, Pecco, vodka?”

“Celebrating.”

“Really that bad?” Luca goes back to his beer, trying to wash away the taste. Fuck this; he can’t drink like he used to. 

“It’s—it was—” Pecco shakes his head. “It was weird, Maro. Like—like they could get better, if they tried, but neither of them do.”

“Marc would.”

“He would. In a second.”

“So why doesn’t he?”

Pecco laughs again, then reaches for his second shot. “Because he thinks Valentino will not—you know. Marc has been ready for years.”

It’s always been Marc, a relentless wave crashing against the cliff face of Valentino’s disdain: Marc outside the box as Uccio shouted him down; Marc holding out a hand; Marc, willing to be something like a good teammate for Pecco despite it all.

“I know.” Luca wraps his fingers around the final glass. 

“Shots?” Bez’s voice cries, before he’s winding himself around Pecco, all clumsy limbs and curly hair. 

“Why don’t you have it, Bez?” Luca says, and Bez, trusting Bez, takes the shot and downs it, already bouncing off to hug someone else—Cele, probably.

“I’m not dealing with him later,” Pecco warns.

“Of course not. Celin will.” 

That’s enough to draw a laugh out of Pecco, which Luca can only count as a success. “Ah, I will miss Marc, you know? Do not tell Vale I said this, but he made me better.”

“I know,” Luca says again, grinning this time, because who could forget Pecco skating on his knee around the final corner in Aragón? Marc had crossed the box when it replayed on his screen, had slapped Pecco’s leg with a bright laugh. Social media lapped it all up.

“You’ll be fine.”

Maybe it’s the beer, the shot, maybe it’s the sense of an ending and a frightening new beginning, but something makes Luca say what he never would on any other day. “I was thinking it was going to be fine, until you told me that he’s still in love with my brother.”

Pecco chokes on his drink. 

——

Luca can compartmentalise. He’ll be fine. He can separate things.

That mantra lasts until the Tuesday morning, when Vale wanders into the Honda box like he has every reason to be there and slides into the chair beside Luca with an easy smile. 

Luca raises his eyebrows. “Should you be in here?”

“Who’s going to stop me?” Not an answer, but somehow an answer in itself. “I came to wish you luck.”

Wish him luck, like Vale hasn’t angled himself so he can see the back of the garage, can see everyone who might walk in or out. 

Pecco isn’t often wrong, but he could have been this time for the sake of Luca’s sanity. Because this is not Marc extending a hopeful hand; this is Valentino, waltzing through enemy lines—fuck’s sake, at least he had a legitimate reason to be in the Ducati box—and turning Luca’s quiet assumptions on their head.

“Thanks.” Luca debates putting a proverbial foot up his backside, but no—Valentino is skittish when he wants to be, and proud. If this—his half-formed skeleton of a plan—is going to work, it needs to be done gently. So he doesn’t say you could just talk to him. 

“Next year will be good, I think.”

“It’s only testing, Vale. We’re not even on the bikes yet.“

“Still. I know how hard you’ve worked. It will pay off.” Valentino fixes him with a firm look. “I’m proud of you. It would have been easy to stay with the team—you did the brave thing.”

And Luca might be twenty-nine, but his brother is still Valentino Rossi and Valentino Rossi is still his brother, so he leans into the praise with a smile. “I’m VR46 for life. You know this.”

“I know.” Vale smiles back. “And now it will pay off for you, doing the difficult thing. It will be a good year.”

Footsteps, words in quick Spanish—Vale’s eyes snap to the back of the garage. Santi and Marc file in, talking, laughing.

“Ah, we thought we were early!” Marc says with a smile. “Good morning, Luca. Ciao, Valentino.”

“Ciao,” Valentino replies, like it’s normal. Like it’s nothing. 

And then nothing else. Marc turns back to Santi. Valentino unlocks his phone. Luca stares.

They don’t speak except to say hello. 

He pulls out his own phone, opening his chat with Pecco, and sends a quick SOS.

Me

help

Pecco

I told you

Welcome to the next two years 

Me

fuck

Luca’s own team start to filter in, buzzing with quiet anticipation, and Vale jolts back to life, sliding his phone into his pocket and getting to his feet. 

“Should probably make sure Uccio doesn’t need help.” A glance towards Marc’s side of the box; Marc isn’t looking. 

“So you are not supposed to be in here,” Luca says, pointed. 

“But no one stopped me.” Valentino smirks back. “Good luck today.”

“Yeah.”

When Vale has already left, already out of the garage—only then does Marc look, gaze lingering after him.

Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ.

[sleepysadwriter]

Absolutely, yes. I was diagnosed in 2021 with Rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia and that same year started working order pickup in retail, and while it was a bit of a process picking up speed, the idea of moving at half the pace I was back then bums me out bc idk if I'll ever get there.

This last year I started having a lot of issues with my lungs and ribcage, and I know that means I need to get scans, but I'm worried about the autoimmune part of my RA now bc I know it's not just attacking my joints anymore. I get stupid sick at random times, like a few months ago I threw up all over the passenger side of the car when I wasn't feeling too bad when my fiance picked me up from work

I spend my days off basically bed/couch/gaming chair rotting now and feeling terrible, but I don't have much I can do these days. I actually almost started crying the other day bc of the nerves and shit in my arm when I was playing dead by daylight. Doc did diagnose me with bulging discs in my neck and said that they're definitely impacting my arm but they somehow "aren't worried about it rn."

Writing is excruciating for me now bc of said bad arm, and sometimes gaming hurts. Writing has been my passion for 14 years and I'm having to learn to use dictation. The only hobby that actually doesn't hurt me is reading and I don't have many friends who read who I can talk to about it

I'm just a rotting bag of bones, and it's really exhausting. I can't do the things I used to.

The RA has changed me so much in 4 years.

Do any other chronically ill or disabled people feel like they're watching themselves rot away due to how little they can do as a result of their conditions

[celestialwonders]

tradition. (s.jy + p.sh)

synopsis: you, jake, and sunghoon are besties and go to 7/11. thats it. hooray!!

genre: jake x reader x sunghoon = best friends! fluffy fun friendship! (lil jungwon mention hehe)

wc: 1.4k

a/n: this drabble was entirely inspired by jakehoon’s recent posts, hence the photos. dont mind any errors i wrote this at work this morning and am posting it on my lunch break LOL

~as always, ask box is always open!~

“Yo, do you guys wanna go to 7/11?” Jake perks his head up from the floor of the living room, pausing the action movie he picked out about a half hour ago. It’d been a long week of school work and dance practice, your joints aching with every subtle move as you straighten your posture at his proposition. You kick your feet out from under the plush blanket you had stolen from Sunghoon’s room when you got into their apartment, having fallen into your usual rhythm of getting comfortable for a night in.

“I don’t really feel like getting drunk tonight, Jake. We had such a long practice today, my body can’t really take much more.” Sunghoon groans, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion as you giggle to yourself. Jake playfully slaps his calve at his actions, making Sunghoon wince from the sore spot. “Dude, I don’t want to get drunk, but I do want some snacks. I totally got the midnight munchies.” Jake fully sits himself up from the floor now, turning his upper body towards you and Sunghoon on the couch. His post-shower hair is fluffy and falling over his forehead as he grins towards his two best friends like a little kid awaiting an answer from his parents.

Sunghoon slowly turns to you, giving you a ‘should we?’ kind of look. You throw the warm blanket off yourself with a huff as Jake takes that as a yes. “Let’s go!” He almost chants as he jumps up from the floor, his jacket slouching off his shoulder from the sudden movement before he straightens it out and puts on a cap. You and Sunghoon aren’t as quick to rise from the couch, your muscles aching from the repetitive and intense practice you had today. Your dance team had a big competition coming up, and your dance captain, Jungwon, spared no breaks until he was sure he had drilled you all to the bone. “Come on.” Jake drags out the last syllable as he tugs at Sunghoon’s arm, eager to get out the door. “The corner store isn’t going anywhere dude, don’t rush me.” Sunghoon grumbled as he reluctantly let Jake pull him from his usual spot on the couch.

The three of you have made a perfect trio for the past three years of college. Jake, being the ever-so-social type, was the first to introduce himself to you on audition day during your freshman year, and he was sure to introduce you to his shy friend, Sunghoon, as well. Both you and Sunghoon shared awkward hellos as Jake beamed about how exciting it was to audition for the school’s dance team, quickly warming himself up to you. You weren’t usually the type to get comfortable with strangers, but Jake and Sunghoon had quickly become your go-to guys throughout the audition process and even after the results came out. “I say we should celebrate!” Jake had hooked his arms around both you and Sunghoon’s necks after you all checked the result sheet. And that's how your tiny tradition started, movie night that was always interrupted by a 7/11 run. At first, you all usually picked up soju and mixers, creating your own delicious (or, in Jake’s case, “adventurous”) cocktails to waste the night away together in fits of laughter. As the years have gone on, the items of interest have changed, but your friendship with the two boys stayed consistent.

You’d gotten used to the teasing from other classmates or dance team members, always quick to silence their questions about whether you’re dating one or the other, or both. But it had never been like that for you all, despite being attached at the hip and knowing each other more than you know yourself. They were just your boys. Nothing more, but certainly nothing less. Them being your best friends meant they saw every side of you and saw you through every season of your life, and you for them. There had been a period of time when you had stopped attending your unofficial ‘meetings’, struggling between a controlling situationship and still keeping your best friends close. In the end, you fell right back into rhythm with Jake and Sunghoon, giving them all the dirt they’d missed as you browsed the aisles for the strongest alcohol you could find. Now, a year later, you return once again to the place you all call your second home.

The door chimes as you all greet the store clerk, the aged old man giving you all a familiar smile. You all instantly break off from each other, going to your designated aisles for your treat of the night. Jake makes his way to the ramen aisle as Sunghoon heads to the back of the store for the drink selection. You find yourself ambling through the chips and candy section, grabbing your favorite sour candy before grabbing each of Jake and Sunghoon’s favorite chips. “Yoooo.” You hear Jake call as you make your way towards his voice in the center of the store. You meet Jake where he’s at as he balances three ramen bowls in his arms, Sunghoon already by his side holding two sodas and a juice. You turn your attention to where the boys’ gaze had already fallen and almost drop your snacks from excitement. “No way! They have it back in stock!” You grinned as Sunghoon slid open the freezer, revealing an array of ice creams. Ice creams that include your absolute favorite: a strawberry bar covered in crunchy rice pebbles.

Jake is quick to grab one for you, having placed the ramen bowls on an empty spot on the shelving behind you. He reaches over in front of Sunghoon to grab himself an ice cream bar, cutely squishing his face between the two packagings. “Stop that, you’re gonna make them melt.” Sunghoon lightheartedly swats Jake's shoulder, making the shorter laugh as he lowers the ice cream. “Oh, so are you saying I'm hot?” He jeers as Sunghoon rolls his eyes, as he usually does with Jake. You can’t help but laugh at Jake’s joke. Despite how stupid you knew it was, it makes Jake beam with pride, knowing he can always count on you to laugh with him.

Sunghoon joins you on your side, peering over the freezer at his possible choices, mulling them over. Now it’s Jake’s turn to roll his eyes as he lets out an exasperated sigh as Sunghoon still ponders his choices. “Now you’re the one that’s gonna make our ice cream melt, hurry it up!” You playfully jest before Jake can, making him hold his stomach in a fit of giggles. “Alright alright.” Sunghoon shushes the two of you, grabbing a small cup of Häagen-Dazs ice cream. “This’ll do.” He proudly shows off his choice as Jake runs off to grab a basket for all your selections.

“You know, at the rate we’re going,” Sunghoon starts as the two of you start to gather your things back up. “We’re gonna have to keep this tradition going for the rest of college.” He laughs to himself. Jake is back at your side, basket in hand. “Shoot, at this rate, we’re gonna have to keep this going till we have our own families!” You pitch in, making the two boys laugh. “Nah, at this rate, we’re gonna have to just include our families and keep this going for the rest of our lives!” Jake triumphantly shouts as the three of you make your way to the self-checkout counter.

As the boys begin scanning and bagging the items, bickering among themselves over the ‘right way’ to bag the items, you can’t help but stand back and smile to yourself. Just the idea of continuing this tradition, one day inviting your future spouse and children, makes your heart swell with unexplainable happiness. You aren’t really sure where the three of you were headed in life, still so many things to figure out and discover about yourselves. But one thing was certain: you’ll always find your way back to your boys, and in return, you’ll always find yourselves back at 7/11.

[am-i-interrupting]

Hi, sorry to bother you but might I request a head over heels, tripping over himself, bumping into things when he hears her name love-struck dumb, old silco? As a former full service SW, he just has puppy dog, clingy written all over him. 🤣

Favors for Favors

Silco had only been half listening to the report that Sevika was giving. It wasn’t anything important. Nothing which needed his direct attention. It was all simply things he should be passingly aware of.

The scratch of his pen was a nice background to her smooth, husked voice. This was a routine the two were both well adjusted to. It hadn’t changed in some time.

Whether or not he should respond to Madame Margot’s request for more funding for guards ran on his mind. She was one of the more competent. Her lady’s brought in a lot of money, very little of which she actually have to the cause and he knew that.

Most of it went towards the luxuries of her business. Keeping rooms nice, pillows fluffed, dolls dressed in a manner of speaking.

He twisted his pen in his hand as he thought.

She was the one he was most familiar with.

Yes, there were others. Renni and her child workers, as she called them, and a warehouse full of shimmer. Chross and his secrets and fast working hit men. Smeech and his loud mouth which didn’t suit the prosthetics he had made. Finn and his. . . Whatever it was exactly he did.

Margot though was something of a collection of all of them. She had the public favor of Finn. She had the will to survive of Smeech. She held secrets and spread shimmer with her workers.

By far she was the most useful of them all.

Silco was in the middle of responding to her request with approval when his ears perked at a name, your name. His pen faltered for a moment. His eyes flicked up to where Sevika stood.

She scoffed. “You really are down bad, aren’t you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing. Forget it. Did you even hear the last ten minutes or just that last name?” she asked with a bit of humor in her eyes.

Silco’s lip twitched upward. His gaze went back down.

“You were saying about the layoff happening in the docks?”

“I stopped talking about that seven minutes ago, boss,” she said.

He cut her a look and she had the audacity to smile to herself. It was a bit smug and not at all subtle.

“But profits have raised since your girl started,” she said.

He continued to write his approval. “The only girl that is mine is Jinx,” he retorted.

“Uh-huh, sure.”

It was rare that Silco got the chance to banter anymore. It’d been years but some days when Sevika was tired and probably at least a bit tipsy and not in an entirely foul mood, she would joke.

He didn’t admit it but it was small moments like these that he was found of.

She leaned against the desk. Her face got close to his. Her arm sat just above the top of the paper which was still wet with ink.

The smell of tequila was on her breath. Not strong but not weak either.

“Do me a favor, just get fucking laid,” she said.

She pushed herself up. She turned and walked out.

“Only if you do the same,” he said right before she closed the door.

He heard her snort right before there was click of lock sliding in place.

It was two days later when Sevika knocked on his door. He welcomed her in but she merely opened it enough to peak her head inside.

“I held up on my favor,” she said, “now hold up on yours or at least go down there and get a drink.”

It wasn’t late in the night when those words echoed in his mind but rather very early in the morning.

Maybe he should. Maybe he would.

He went downstairs.

“Chuck, go home,” he heard your voice say as he neared the bottom.

“I’m fine,” a hoarse voice replied, gravely and that clearly of a chainsmoker.

“No, you’re not. You got a glass thrown at you. Just let me take care of closing up.”

“Not what I’m paid to do.”

“I believe,” Silco said as he stepped into view, “what I pay you to do is serve drinks.”

Chuck’s lip curled upward into a snarl. He took the wordless demand and turned to his other side.

His sleeve was covered in blood, still wet even just looking. There were small nicks and a very large gash. It curled around his bicep and dug into it.

“Should I request the Doctor give you visit or would you prefer your means?” Silco asked as he looked at the wound. Chuck’s silence was reply. “Very well then. I highly suggest you take advantage the kindness being gifted to you. It’s rarity these days.”

“Fine,” Chuck said through gritted teeth.

When the door slammed shut, Silco finally looked at you. You had a small, pleased smile on your face. Your chin was held by your hand. Eyes were fixed on him.

Silco took a deep breath and tried to will down that little jump his heart tried to do, aiming for his throat.

“You’re going soft,” you said in a sing-song tone.

“He can’t serve drinks if he can’t use his arm,” Silco said.

“Uh-huh, sure.”

You spun around and reached for a bottle of whiskey. A glass was picked up in your hands as you turned around to the bar. A small scoop was filled with ice which clinked against the glass as it was plopped in. You didn’t look down as you filled it.

“What gives me the pleasure of your company tonight?” you asked.

That simple question led to over an hour of conversation and Silco behind the bar, helping you clean. All because he mentioned he’d once had experience and you had audacity to challenge that.

[moon-ayyye]

What pisses you off in fics? Specifically Jason fics?

I could talk about pit madness all day, or bad angry robin jason, so I'll talk about something that I don't see brought up as much:

Tim Drake in any AU where Jason is there before robin Tim. Jason lives, Jason is found early, Tim was abroad during that shit, whatever the fuck.

I don't remember the fic, i read it years ago, but it was a bruce finds jason after his resurrection fic where Tim wasn't robin yet. Wasn't introduced at all. And I really liked it, the premise was interesting and it showed Jason's complex relationship with Bruce.

But then the author rushed a half assed reconciliation and then spent the entire rest of the fic making is about jason adopting tim and pampering tim. I don't remember specifics from the fic except that Jason's first fully coherent sentence was "Tim suffered just as much as me. Maybe even more."

Shit pissed me off so bad. It started so strong, too. But then Tim Drake had to show up. Even though in the AU it's stated that his parents are really good but are overworked and sometimes sleep early so Tim sneaks out a couple times a month to stalk the bats. But sure, it's as bad, if not worse, than death via torture and clawing your way out of your grave at 15

[theoutcastwrites]

Make You Mine - Childe x Reader

Almost 4 years ago I started obsessing over Liyue Qixing Secretary!Reader x Childe and never did anything about it. Now the dynamic is stuck in my head, 4 years later, and I'm ready to write miniscule drabbles about them, coated in longing and yearning and the like. Hooray

The soft, silver glow of the moon seeped through the open windows, illuminating scarred skin and hair as golden as cor lapis itself. Childe lay with his back facing you, sound asleep, ignorant of the countless thoughts that swirled in your mind. The unwillingness to say goodbye; the sheer desperation to keep him in your field of view; the fear of being exposed, once and for all.

If these thoughts raced in his head during the day as they did in yours, then he did a better job of not showing it than you ever could.

You shifted behind him. His tanned skin, littered in scars and freckles alike, was more than just a sight you wished to remember; you wanted to memorize the placement of every little blemish, every freckle, so that you could recognize them by touch alone. How many battles had he seen to acquire this many scars? How many of them were near-deadly for his skin to become so marred? How did he remain so gentle, with all the bloodshed he had witnessed at such a young age?

You figured you should simply ask him next time. Childe would happily tell you - though he might gloss over the more gruesome details to save himself from the pity you would no doubt offer - but he would tell you nevertheless.

Biting your lip nervously, you reached out a careful hand to trace his shoulder blades. He didn't react to that - still sleeping, you thought, and took it as a sign to continue. With a featherlight touch, your fingers trailed his broad shoulder, his bicep (you fought the urge to squeeze the muscle there, appealing as it was).

Childe was unfairly beautiful at his barest. Every man in Teyvat should envy him and strive to have half the charm he had; but maybe they shouldn't bother trying. Who could ever hope to compare if not the gods themselves?

Your fingers stopped at the back of his neck, where they were tickled by unruly ginger hair. You had half the mind to kiss him there but there was no point in waking him. Childe had to leave early, anyhow.

Rex Lapis must not approve of your relationship; because Childe had to leave for Inazuma on your only day off work and, to make matters crueler, you couldn't even walk him to the docks. Under better circumstances, you would have kissed him right by his ship until he could speak nothing but your name. Under better circumstances, he would have held you tight, regardless if there were people around to see, and you would have happily returned his embrace. Until such a day came, you would have to do with fervent touches at illicit meetings.

"I'll bring you gifts," he'd said hours earlier, "whatever you want. Name it, and it's yours."

"What if I only want you?"

He laughed, as though you hadn't bared your soul to him in that confession,"but I'm already yours."

"Then keep being mine. No matter where you go, just come back being mine."

Childe smiled wide, with cheeks dusted red and eyes crinkled around the corners. A kiss, and then:

"You say it as if it's not the easiest thing in the world."

Come morning, he would vanish without a trace, leaving naught but a cold bed in his wake. His sweet words, surely half-forgotten by Childe himself, remained in your head like a painful reminder of what you could never fully have.

[bullet-prooflove]

All That Glitters: Part Two - History - OA Zidan x Reader (feat: Scott Forrester)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @mrspeacem1nusone @greenies-green @rosaliedepp @whateversomethingbruh @anime-weeb-4-life @daydreaming-belle @burningpeachpuppy @scarlettsakura @divergent146 @upsteadlogic @malindacath @skyesthebomb @kilikonakapamana @yezzyyae @redpool @stxrryswvrld @district447 @@soultrysworld

Companion piece to:

All That Glitters - Omar suffers after a tough case.

By the time you come on board the scope of the operation has grown exponentially. You’re talking dozens of tender age girls being trafficked through New York, Budapest, Paris and countless other cities worldwide.   

Dotcom millionaires, judges, senators, the list of rich and powerful men involved in this thing just goes on and on and at the centre of it is Colin Kent, international sex trafficker. The man who has just absconded to Croatia, with fourteen-year-old Sunny, a girl he’s been using as his plaything.

When you get boots on the ground in Zagreb you don’t expect to see Scott Forrester waiting for you at the Europol offices. You knew you’d be meeting with a flight team; you just had no idea that it would be his. You’d lost track of him after he’d left your division.

It’s clear he doesn’t expect to see you either, you can tell by the way he says your name.

“When they said they were sending a specialist I had no idea it was you.” He says almost apologetically as he shakes your hand.

You’ve changed since he last laid eyes on you. Your hair’s a little longer, a little darker. You’ve gained a couple of pounds, it looks good on you, healthy. You have more tattoos than he remembers, he can see the bright colours decorating your forearms as you push up the sleeves of the white jumper that you’re wearing. Beside you OA clears his throat and it’s in that moment that Scott realises the two of you are more than just colleagues. There’s a protectiveness in the other man that he recognises because he's been there, in the exact same place.

There’s no time to reminisce, you hit the ground running. Scott doesn’t expect any different. You were tenacious when he worked with you seven years ago, that hasn’t changed.

“How do the two of you know each other?” OA asks him when they’re alone in the conference room. They’re sticking photographs of the girls to the glass wall, trying to figure out how many of them are in play. The scope of the investigation is growing, what started off as one girl has become over a hundred and it just keeps getting worse.

OA’s question is one that Scott’s been dreading because it takes him back to the worst night of his life. He’d been running the operation that landed you that apartment. It had been him who’d decided to use you as the UC, him who’d found you brutalised, half naked in that bed. He’d thought you were going to die that night. He’d sat in the chapel and prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that you’d pull through, that you’d make it back to him. In the aftermath of the surgery he’d sat by your bed, while your father flew in from Delaware, bore the brunt of his wrath when he told him what had happened.

“We worked together.” Scott says quietly, his focus fixated on the task at hand. “Before I took a job with the fly team…”

He sees the moment that it dawns on OA. He exhales suddenly, his arms crossing over his chest, his head dipping low. Scott can’t imagine what the other man must think of him.  

“You’re that Scott.” He says knowingly. “The one she was with when…”

He trails off because he can’t bring himself to say the words and Scott doesn’t want to hear them.

“Yea.” Scott says quietly. “I’m that Scott.”

-

You dream about that night. The sky-blue dress you were wearing, the blood trickling down your face into your eyes, the sound of the material ripping under Tribeck’s hands as he undressed you. More than anything you remember the pain, the degradation.

It’s Omar that wakes you, his soothing voice breaking through the nightmare as his palm cups the side of your face, guiding your gaze up to meet his.

“You’re safe.” He whispers, his lips kissing away the salt that trails down your cheeks. “You’re safe here with me, no one can hurt you, it’s just the two of us.”

He goes through the breathing exercises. In for five, hold for five, out for five, the same way you do when he has a bad night. It takes a while for you to calm down, for your breathing to regulate, for your heart to stop pounding against your chest.

“It’s Scott, isn’t it?” He says softly as he holds you close. “Seeing him again brings it all back.”

“We were together a year before it happened.” You tell him, the grip you have on his t-shirt tightening. “It was his op, his decision to use me as the UC…”

You trail off because everything after that is fractured. Your world had fallen apart and Scott, he couldn’t look at you without seeing what had happened that night, without feeling responsible. It’s been seven years and he still harbours that guilt. It’s in the way he keeps his distance, the two of you have barely been in the same room since you landed in Croatia and you know that’s by design.

“You need to absolve him.” Omar whispers into your hair. “It’s the only way you’ll  both be free of it.”

His palm comes to rest on the back of your neck, his thumb stroking over that delicate little spot, the one that he knows soothes you. He feels the tension start to seep out of your body, your muscles unfurling as you tuck yourself in against him.

“Tomorrow.” You say quietly. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

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[academicdisasterfic]

Writing Interview

tagged by the inimitable @lqtraintracks 💗

What’s your total ao3 word count? 181,945

Your top 5 stories by kudos?

- Sourdough with 3692

- Half Awake with 1333

- In the Shape of Things to Come with 1133

- A Melody of You & Me with 1023

- Career Day with 866

Do you respond to comments?

I try, but honestly, I’ve spent the last two years so burnt out and exhausted that it’s fallen to the wayside. I read and appreciate absolutely everything and try to respond when I have the energy; I still get flutters at Ao3 comment notifications in my email and I am fervently hoping one day to make up the slack.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

lol I absolutely am allergic to anything but a happy ending: I’d say a tolerance for pain but it has a sequel so not quite! Some of my microfics are quite angsty.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

All of them lol - I think the one that makes me the happiest is Half Awake. Objectively A Melody of You & Me or Sourdough is much fluffier but something about the way H&D learn each other in Half Awake feels closer to my own idea of what finding happiness feels like.

Do you write crossovers?

Not yet! Never say never - I’m thinking all the time of how much fun it’d be to write Drarry in various other universes.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes and it’s hilarious to me every time. Girl who’s got the energy

Do you write smut?

I try but I am absolutely no connoisseur. I tend to write sex scenes more quickly & with less detail than I intend, but it’s something I’m working on!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes and it made me so happy! It’s such a huge compliment.

Have you ever co-written a fic?

An absolute banger that will never see the light of day with @cavendishbutterfly

What’s your all time favourite ship?

There’s Drarry, obviously, but Wolfstar is equally as sacred to me.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I started writing a longer fic about three years ago that was intended to be a very slow burn friends to lovers and was kind of processing my own divorce. I think I just moved on, both in my own life and as a writer. I ended up using some bits of it for When the Flood Comes - the description of Hogwarts at the start and the Golden Trio’s dynamic is from that other fic, particularly the part where Ron wakes up and has to reassure himself that Harry came back from the forest.

What are your writing strengths?

I’m definitely a character focussed writer - I love writing dialogue and emotions, and I think that’s probably what I’m best at. I also love writing setting & atmosphere but I’m not quite where I want to be with it yet - that being said, none of my writing is where I want it to be, I’m chronically dissatisfied with all my words.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I am not a plot guy. I struggle with holding suspense over longer works and I think I rush too much. Sometimes I worry about being autistic and the way I express thoughts and emotions: I’ll read other work and think mine is too simplistic. I’m not very good with descriptions either, I don’t tend to describe appearances too much.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

Big yes!!! So many fic writers speak English as their second language and have to write in English all the time; I love seeing mother tongues being written in. I probably wouldn’t feel confident enough to write in a language I didn’t speak but I’ve seen people do it really well with betas who can translate.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I think I’ve written everything I really want to - perhaps one day a short angsty Narcissa/Pansy, I’ve loved the idea of them for a while but I’ve not had the time.

What’s your favourite thing you’ve ever written?

My favourite fic I’ve written is When the Flood Comes - political intrigue was a new beast for me, but I loved writing it, and I also love Harry and Draco’s dynamic in it. Outside of fic, my original novel is my favourite overall, and I’m so proud that I finished it. I didn’t really believe that I’d be able to write a full novel until I actually did it, and it changed how I thought of myself as a writer. It’ll always hold a special place in my heart.

Tagging @cavendishbutterfly @saxamophone @saintgarbanzo @nv-md @sleepstxtic @oknowkiss @basicallyahedgehog @moonmanateee and anyone who wants to participate - I love reading these, please tag me!

[thethreefaes]

Realizing her slip up, Lyra blushed and nodded.

“Er… kinda. Our mother was a healer and one of the best. But along with that, she had a very kind heart.” Lyra looked up at the sky as she spoke. The sun lowering and painting the heavens in oranges and purples. If she looked hard enough she swore she could see stars trying to shine through.

“She helped a lot of fledglings. There was one… she was younger than me. Her mother tossed her out. It was found that she had very little fae blood and magic. Her sire having lied and hid his dirty blood.” Lyra scrunched her nose at the term.

“It had caused a lot of trouble. And mom took in the little one. She called her Rose. And Rose clung to me so much that Kia would get jealous.” Lyra’s smile fell and she curled up on herself.

“We woke up one morning and… she was gone. Taken from the nest. Mother couldn’t tell us what happened. Her gaze would become hazy. Her name had been used to keep her silent.” Her fingernails dug into her palms. She glared at the dirt.

“She-she hadn’t even gotten her wings yet. Kiara got colder after that. Shutting me out.” It felt like another life time ago. Three children playing and laughing. Unaware of the rules and consequences of their blood. Lyra rubbed at her eyes and took a deep breath. Right. Kiara. Healing.

“Gothi’s salve and your herbs here are similar to what was in our home. It’s been easier than I thought to learn and adapt. I’ll be sure to annoy Kia to take care of her arm. Or I’ll just do it.” She giggled. “Actually I should be the one. Kiara would be too impatient to wrap her arm.”

Lyra grew silent as she thought about everything. Her past with the faes, the horrible humans, the good faes and humans she’d met. The creatures she’d faced and healed.

“I… I’m only half way to my hundredth year, but I feel older than I am. I should still be in my mother’s home. In her nest and learning from her. But the fates decided otherwise.” Lyra flicked a stone in the dirt.

“I learned my healing magic by helping creatures I met on my travels. Learned to hide and control my magic. It was… lonely. Even when I found Altair. Until I found you.” Looking at the chief she felt at ease. No more running. No more hiding. Feeling protected in a community. A clan.

“Maybe I’m being silly. But I hope Kia starts to see Berk as home too. She… she doesn’t have to be a high fae.” It scared her. That Kiara would change and become cruel like the other high faes.

“Hiccup!” Lyra ran up to the chief, an excited grin on her face.

“Are you busy? I have something to show you!” She took his hand and pulled him towards Altair and Toothless.

“You know how last month the lightning strike caused the large forest fire?” Stopping in front of the dragons the fae all but buzzing in excitement. If her wings were visible they’d be fluttering.

“I did a thing!” She couldn’t wait to show him.

[cbk1000]

Here is another preview of that sequel to the fic where two morons run around in the Yorkshire countryside not cottoning on to the fact that they have enormous crushes on one another:

By the time they had made themselves appropriate for public consumption, meaning that one of them was no longer sporting some sex hair, and the other was sporting no more than a manageable semi, the usual suspect had arrived, though they had driven all that way in sunlight. It was not like one of those ghastly outings on the moors, where the rain was driving as hard as the plough horse; this was one of those considerate rains, which had laid itself like a filter on the landscape. It had blurred out what was hard or no-nonsense about the land, and made it a thing which was for that frivolous purpose of beauty: in the lake was a watercolour of the castle, and beyond it the oak trees which might have been stern in their aeons were now like approachable elders. There was no naked eye which could fathom where the grounds were ended; and in the midst of them it seemed like all the world went on like that, that they had gone from that quiet civilisation through which they had driven in the daytime to this utopia in the gloaming. It was not yet noon; but already the world seemed to be on the cusp of itself; to be in the grey rainlight melting back into that land which is shortly to be under the moon.

“Hold hands, or no?” Merlin asked, shrugging on his jacket, which he did by getting in one arm reasonably enough, and then flapping about like a moron seeking the other. 

“For God’s sake,” Arthur said, and stuffed it in for him, and then, clearing his throat, answered the question by grabbing Merlin’s hand with a minimal secretion of sweat; then he saw his father coming across the lawns, and made a liar of the previous clause.

“I’ll bite him in a heartbeat; just say the word,” Merlin said under his breath, and then his father and the man he was walking with were within earshot, and Arthur was not certain whether to clutch or drop Merlin’s hand. There was an impulse almost to throw it; and with a bloody-minded grimness he held onto it, feeling it was the only thing anyone would see in all that beauty. His father’s face tightened, and smoothed; and he said to his companion as all four stopped, “David, this is my son, Arthur, and Arthur’s friend. Arthur, this is David, the groom’s father.”

“This is Merlin, my boyfriend,” Arthur said stiffly through his teeth. 

David took it neatly in stride; and said without any acknowledgement of Uther’s omission or Arthur’s resentment, “You’re Lisa’s cousin, then? Nice to meet you both. Are you the veterinarian chap? I thought Lisa mentioned Arthur was dating a vet.”

“Yeah. I work for a surgery in Emberford. It’s my uncle’s practice; I moved down a year and a half or so ago to take over a lot of the livestock work, since he’s starting to get on a bit.”

“Well, listen, not to bother you on your holiday, but we’ve brought our dog, actually, my wife and I, and she seems a bit poorly this morning. Would you mind taking a look?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“Thanks; Uther, nice chatting with you, but I’m going to nip in and steal these blokes for a moment. Sorry, my wife just adores her, and she’s been fretting all morning.” And he broke off from Uther’s side, and settled in at theirs. They went striding away in the mist, which was beginning to style Merlin’s hair though he himself hadn’t bothered; and as they left his father behind, Merlin began to trot out the usual line of questioning, asking about any changes in her behaviour, and what might possibly have preceded them. Then David, checking over his shoulder said, “Oh, no, she’s perfectly in trim. Just thought it was a real cock move, wasn’t it, saying you were his friend and not even telling me your name? Can’t stand that sort of rubbish; it’s the fucking twenty-first century, is it not?  But listen, Sheila, that’s the dog, would be absolutely chuffed to meet you lads, so come on and I’ll introduce you, and then I’ve got to get changed. My wife’s already sent me four texts.”

“We would be chuffed to meet Sheila,” Merlin said cheerfully.

[denial-permanente]

What would happen if your catch Tom out of his chastity without permission?

Well... first, I would assume that he's going to the doctor or for a long bike ride. Or on an airplane. Because other than that, he does not have permission to remove his cage, at least not without me knowing.

Somebody asked about this not long ago. And even though your question is a little different my answer is still mostly the same.

I think you're expecting an answer like I'd be mad or upset or hurt. But what I'm going to tell you is this. That would never happen. My husband has made a sincere lifelong commitment. He has never once complained or begged to be let out. He has quite literally been locked through sickness and in health. He has remained locked when we have been angry with each other. He has stayed locked for months and months with no orgasm. He was denied for almost a year and a half, no orgasm, with no cage.

I'm going to be very clear here. I see the messages and comments that a lot of men say they would love to have a life like this. But I honestly think that very few of them could really handle it. There are a lot of men who seem to be overgrown bratty children. They need teasing and edging and constant attention. They secretly remove their cage to have a little jerk off because they can't handle a few days, let along a few weeks or months without their little orgasm.

My husband is not perfect. But I trust him because he is a grown man. And maybe some of the men who want to have the kind of lifestyle that we have should start acting like men and not like whiney little brats.

[timetodecidedjo]

Logan watched Wade as he read from his tattered and worn out copy of The Canadian Mounted, resting his back against the doorframe. The Merc was so engrossed in the small red book in his hand that he had barely noticed Logan just standing there watching him. The older mutant felt a smile creep onto his face while a warm fuzzy feeling washed over him. How had he become so unbelievably lucky to have been given a second chance at such a wonderful life? Just seeing Wade lying in their bed doing something so mundane as reading a book gave him such a giddy feeling, an extremely foreign concept to the 200 year old mutant. The domesticity of it all was so unfamiliar for him, like the warmth in his chest he felt when he and Wade were together.

Logan unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down his legs and kicked them off to the side. Using both hands, he pulled at the hemline of his white undershirt, exposing his hair-covered chest. He slithered into the bed and straddled the Merc, resting all 300 pounds of his adamantium laced bones on Wade’s chest. Logan took in a deep inhale of Wade’s scent, and he felt like he had found peace. He could finally just relax.

“Such a good kitty kitty,” the Merc teased, using his fingers to draw small spirals along Logan’s back that made the mutant sigh. He placed his book down on the small bedside table so that he could focus all of his attention on Logan. His best friend. The man he loved.

I can’t believe this half naked, golden skinned, drop dead gorgeous piece of meat loves me, Wade thought as he raked his hand through Logan’s thick brown hair. He felt the mutant slide a warm hand underneath his shirt, pushing the hemline up and exposing skin. Logan started pressing kisses onto Wade’s jagged stomach that set his nerve endings on fire. He felt his body twitch absentmindedly, before he could stop himself. Some days, he could tolerate the pain better than others. Today had been a rough one, but the pain was manageable, nothing ole Wadey couldn’t handle. He had literally been ripped in half by the Juggernaut years ago soooo…. There wasn’t much he couldn’t handle physically.

Hehehe was that a sneaky dick joke?

“Does it hurt when I touch your skin?” Logan muttered into Wade’s stomach as he traced a line of scar tissue down the merc’s abdomen.

On the contrary, gorgeous. Never when you touch me.

“I live in chronic pain, Wolvie. My skin is the least of my worries.”

Logan rested his head right there on Wade’s hip, continuing to glide his fingertips across his lover’s skin. He was quiet for a beat, overwhelmed with sadness for Wade. Logan had been through quite a lot of pain in his lifetime, but not the physical type of pain that never went away.

“I hate that,” he finally replied, closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling of Wade’s fingers in his hair. It felt so nice to just be with Wade, to just lie together in their bed and enjoy each other’s touch. Both had been so incredibly touch starved for years that the smallest caress was enough to send them into a frenzy.

Logan slid his hand back down Wade’s abdomen, feeling the sunken texture of his skin in the process. No matter what Wade would ever say about himself, Logan thought he was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Underneath his discolored skin and raised scars was a man who had been tortured emotionally, physically, and mentally, but still had so much love in his heart to give. Even after everything he’d gone through in his life, he was always willing to do whatever it took to protect the ones he loved… his chosen family. Logan admired Wade for more than one reason, but the biggest one was that he loved so fiercely and would go to the ends of the earth for his friends.

“It’s life, Lo. It’s my life.”

“Doesn’t make me hate it less, bub.”

Wade smiled and rested his head back on the headboard and thought about how much Logan had changed his life… how unhappy he would be without him. He still couldn’t believe he got to call Logan his.

“Does it hurt when I kiss you here?” The mutant questioned before placing a soft kiss onto Wade’s lower abdomen. The Merc quietly gulped, slid his hand down to Logan’s neck, and squeezed slightly. Even if it had been the worst pain that Wade had ever experienced, it was nothing if it meant a kiss from Logan was on the other end of it. He shook his head no out of fear that his boyfriend would stop.

Logan lifted Wade’s sweatshirt and Tshirt up slightly, exposing more scarred skin that was begging to be kissed.

“What about here?” Another kiss. Even the softest touch sent a shockwave of pins and needles across his skin. He didn’t answer. He didn’t want Logan to stop. His skin was going to hurt regardless, so he might as well get to enjoy his boyfriend’s touch.

Logan looked up at Wade with warm, tender eyes and begged for their lips to touch this time. The Merc obliged and leaned down, smiling into their soft kiss. The mutant’s hand slid up Wade’s skin and onto his back where he gently caressed the merc’s muscles, not realizing that it probably hurt Wade more than it helped. But Wade didn’t care. It still felt good to be loved like this, even on his worst days. It felt good to be the object of Logan’s affection.

[miriammctroi]

The Engagement Party

Jegulus Micro Fic

A year ago, Regulus had this mad idea of reconnecting with his older brother, who had broken with the family a decade ago. They had some good times, fought, talked, and even laughed on occasion. What he didn’t know at the time was that if one reconnected with their older brother, one was forced to attend their social gatherings.

So, now, he was standing quietly by a table, nipping on a drink, wondering when an appropriate amount of time had passed for me to leave without it looking weird.

He loved his brother Sirius, and his fiancé, Remus, was quite wonderful, truly. He just wasn’t good with the whole social thing.

Then there was the other thing. His brother had that obnoxious friend with the loud laugh and wild hair who was always part of these parties: James.

He was also set to be Sirius’s best man for the wedding – which was totally fine for Regulus! They’ve only just started speaking again and James has been in his life for, what, twenty years now? Without a ten-year break, at that. So, Regulus was totally okay with him being chosen as the best man instead. Totally.

James was holding a speech at the moment, reminiscing about childhood mischief with Sirius and how Remus brought out the best in him, bla, bla, bla. The crowd laughed with him. He told a dirty joke and smirked in that very annoying, unreasonably attractive, cocky witch's-weekly-cover way. In general, he wasn’t ugly. Everyone had dressed up for the engagement party: The girls were wearing knee-long, colourful dresses, the guys, button-ups and trousers which weren’t jeans. James had put on a red patterned waistcoat and dark trousers, which was altogether very respectable, except that the shirt underneath was too tight and the sleeves were rolled up, effectively showing off his gym-bro arms. He could probably pick Regulus up and toss him around if he wanted.

James told another joke and let his eyes roam through the room, halting near the table where he was standing. James winked. Regulus didn’t listen to the joke and had no idea what that was about. It didn’t matter anyway. He was just some pretentious idiot doing idiotic things.

James finally left the stage. Regulus checked the time on his phone. Another half hour and he could claim to be tired and go home.

“Hey,” James appeared next to me. He had the magazine-cover smirk again.

“Hello,” Regulus said.

“You didn’t laugh at my jokes.”

“You weren’t funny.”

He gasped and put a hand to his heart. “You wound me!”

Good. Regulus rolled his eyes at him.

“You look handsome today,” he said, ignoring Regulus's obvious attempt at killing the conversation.

“Same can’t be said about you. Your hair’s a mess, as always. You’re going to embarrass my brother at the altar.”

James ran a hand through his hair, making it even worse. There was no gel in it to keep it in place. It was probably soft and fluffy.

“You know? I like you, you’re funny.”

Huh? James smiled at him. Was he taking the piss? Or was he just being weird? From all he has seen so far, it could be either.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re funny,” he insisted. “With the way you roll those pretty little eyes of yours, and so obviously fight making rude remarks to every other person you meet, except me.”

Regulus wasn't planning to start fights with all of his brother’s friends, so what? It wasn't his fault that most of his friends were utterly boring or wanted to test him by not so subtly stirring the conversation towards women's rights, people of colour, gays and trans people.

Did he just call his eyes pretty? Maybe it was another test.

James pointed at his glass. “Are you actually going to drink that or keep nipping on it like it’s broccoli juice?”

“I’m drinking.”

“Sure.” He winked at him and turned to the room. Someone else was holding a speech now, Fleamont Potter, if Regulus recognised him correctly. “I bet you’re drinking so slowly because in your mind, as soon as it’s empty at this rate, an appropriate amount of time has passed for you to leave.”

That might have been the first non-idiotic thing he had ever heard him say. Nevertheless, he prepared to deny everything.

“He won’t mind you leaving early, you know? He has told all of us that you hate crowds before we first met you, and not to read anything into it when you leave early.”

“I see. So, he wants me to leave?”

“No, not in the slightest. It’s his engagement party and he keeps looking over here. He’d rather have you at the table and talk to us.”

“Then, you want me to leave.”

James glanced at him with a smile, it was different than the obnoxious smirk from before. Dirtier, somehow. He had a dimple.

“What I want is for you to give me that glass so I can finish it, then take you out of here and back to my place, where I’ll very slowly and gently get you out of these clothes, put you on the bed and then do decidedly less gentle and slow things to you.”

Oh. Oh.

Regulus's eyes got distracted by James's neck, then his arms, down along the lines of the waistcoat.

Without further hesitation, he pushed his glass into his hands and walked away to tell his brother he'd be leaving soon.