#and no one’s been talking about this show!!

[magical-reid]

Yours, Whether You Know it or Not

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Setting: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Timeline

Word Count: 1K

Summary: You’ve been running missions with Sam and Bucky for a while now, and everything was fine—until John Walker started showing up and taking an interest in you. Bucky isn’t having it. Not because he’s jealous. Definitely not because he’s jealous. He just doesn’t trust Walker. Right?

Unwanted Attention

You weren’t sure how long you’d been walking, but you knew Bucky was beside you—silent, brooding, and absolutely vibrating with tension.

Again.

It had started a week ago. After the whole Flag Smashers fiasco in Munich, John Walker and his annoying sidekick, Lemar, had started appearing more often. They were always just there, cocky and insufferable, flashing that stolen shield like they had any right to it. But that wasn’t what had been bothering Bucky the most.

It was Walker’s interest in you.

Ever since you’d first been introduced, Walker had made it painfully obvious that he found you attractive. The first time, it was a comment—something about how you were “too pretty to be running around with these two grumps.” You’d rolled your eyes, but Sam had snickered, and Bucky had muttered something under his breath that you hadn’t quite caught.

Then, it became touches—a hand on your lower back, a brush of fingers against yours when he handed you something, a lingering grip on your wrist after a mission. It was all casual enough that you couldn’t really call him out on it, but you weren’t an idiot. Walker was testing boundaries. And every time, Bucky got pissed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

At first, you thought it was just his general hatred for Walker. But then you noticed other things.

Bucky started standing closer. His arm would “accidentally” brush against yours when you were walking. He’d place a firm hand on your back before Walker could, guiding you away without a word. And, most notably, whenever Walker so much as looked at you, Bucky’s jaw would tighten, his fists clenching like he was barely keeping himself from decking the guy.

Which led to this moment right now.

You, Bucky, and Sam were walking back to the safe house after a tense meeting with Walker and Lemar—one in which Walker had, yet again, spent way too much time trying to get your attention.

“You don’t have to act like I’m gonna drop dead if he talks to me, you know,” you said finally, breaking the silence.

Bucky didn’t look at you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on.” You stopped walking, turning to face him. “Every time Walker so much as breathes in my direction, you look like you’re about to rip his throat out.”

Bucky scoffed, looking away. “I just don’t trust him.”

Sam, who had been trailing a few steps behind, smirked. “Right. That’s what this is about.”

Bucky shot him a glare, but Sam just shrugged.

“Man, you’re jealous,” Sam said. “It’s written all over your grumpy little face.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You’re so jealous.”

“I—” Bucky cut himself off, taking a deep breath like he was trying to calm himself. “He’s an asshole.”

“No arguments there,” you said. “But if you don’t like him flirting with me, there’s a pretty easy solution, Barnes.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked to yours. “Yeah?”

You smiled innocently. “You could just tell me why it really bothers you.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, blue eyes dark and unreadable. Then, with a sharp shake of his head, he muttered, “Let’s go,” and kept walking.

Sam sighed. “Man, you are hopeless.”

You didn’t disagree.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A Game of Possession

The next time you saw Walker, things escalated.

It was supposed to be a simple recon mission—stakeout, gather intel, get out. But, as always, Walker found a way to insert himself where he wasn’t wanted.

“You know,” Walker said, sidling up beside you, “we’d work a lot better together if you ditched these two and joined Lemar and me.”

Bucky, who was standing just a few feet away, tensed immediately.

You sighed. “Not interested.”

“Come on,” Walker pressed, flashing that annoyingly charming smile. “I’d take good care of you.”

Before you could retort, a heavy, warm weight settled around your waist.

Bucky.

His metal arm wrapped around you in an unmistakably possessive gesture, tugging you snugly against his side. His fingers splayed against your hip, and when he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous.

“She’s already taken care of.”

The air went thick with tension. Walker’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged. “By who?”

Bucky’s grip tightened. “Me.”

Your heart stopped.

Walker raised an eyebrow. “Huh. Didn’t peg you for the type to settle down, Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Maybe you don’t know as much as you think you do.”

Walker let his gaze linger on you for a beat too long before smirking. “Alright, alright. No need to get your vibranium arm in a twist.”

And with that, he strolled off.

Bucky didn’t move. Neither did you.

Finally, you found your voice. “So. That was… something.”

Bucky let out a breath through his nose. Slowly, his hand eased away, though his fingers brushed lightly against your side before leaving entirely. “Sorry.”

You turned to look at him. “Are you?”

He hesitated. Then, in a rare moment of honesty, he admitted, “No.”

You bit your lip, heartbeat unsteady. “So… am I actually taken?”

Bucky exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Do you want to be?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you stepped forward, closing the space he’d left between you.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you murmured.

Bucky swallowed hard. His eyes flickered to your lips. His fingers twitched at his side like he wanted to touch you again.

Before either of you could do anything about it, Sam’s voice rang out from across the way.

“Hey, lovebirds! We’ve got work to do!”

You pulled back, trying not to grin. Bucky just sighed.

“This is your fault,” he muttered.

You smirked. “If you say so, boyfriend.”

Bucky groaned, but the tips of his ears burned red. And you had a feeling that, jealous or not, he wasn’t going to let the title go.

Not anymore.

[luveline]

you know what ive been thinking about? boy dad spencer reid. everyone talks about girl dad spence but boy dad spencer?? watching him play sports and having literally no clue what's going on, or dressing him up like a little old man or playing dinosaurs with him and teaching him magic </3 my little heart can't take it

dad!spencer beloved +fem!reader

“Hi, Jude.” 

Jude sizes you up. 

“Want a cuddle?” you whisper. 

The little boy gives a shy smile, falling into your arms as you open them.

Jude is great at hiding but you’re better at finding, no matter where he is. Spencer calls it your ‘Jude tingle’. Despite the dumb name, he’s always grateful you’ve found his toddler, saving Jude from a lifetime in the Trader Joe’s freezer aisle or an abrupt sleepover at Aunt Emily’s apartment. Today, you’ve protected him from the spiders in the Reid backyard. 

”What did daddy say about hiding?” you ask softly. 

Jude sighs against your neck, close to tears at even a whisper of a scolding. “To tell daddy, and we would hide together.” 

“Yeah, you can hide together. Why didn’t you wanna tell dad today? You could’ve told me if you wanted.” Jude sniffles. You trace a short line down his back. “Good thing I always know where to find my favourite boy, huh? You can’t hide from me, Jude, I love you too much. I follow the hearts until I find you.” 

“That’s not true,” he grumbles. 

“Oh yes it is. I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” he says. Just a couple of months ago he could barely say love, but he can show it, and he does today by pressing a wet little kiss to your cheek. 

“Daddy’s still looking for you,” you whisper. 

“Hide me?” 

“I don’t think I should. I bet daddy’s about to get upset. Should we go find him?” 

Jude pulls away. You push his glasses up his sloped nose, forcing him to blink as he readjusts to the world again. Jude Reid, in all his baby-faced sweetness, couldn’t look more like his dad. He has Spencer’s eyes, and his cheeks, though Jude doesn’t have the sharp jaw or cheekbones, just puppy fat. You dot a kiss on one soft cheek and stand, offering down a hand to keep Jude tethered, lest you lose him before you find his dad. 

“Is he mangry with me?” 

“Dad’s not mad or angry, just upset.”

“He’s crying?” Jude asks, shocked. 

“No, he’s not crying! He doesn’t like not knowing where you are, that’s all. No, daddy’s not upset like that.” 

“Can you make him��� can you…” 

“I can make him feel better,” you promise. 

Jude wriggles his fingers in your hand. 

Spencer’s calling Jude’s name into the expanse of the back yard, attempting to sound cheerful but missing the mark quite severely. “Jude, it’s dinner time!” 

“Dad!” Jude calls back. 

Spencer sags like a popped balloon, trudging over to you both by the patio doors. 

“I don’t know why we bother splitting up,” Spencer says, bending down to swoop Jude into his arms, thrusting him up into the air quickly to make him laugh. “Y/N always finds you!” 

“You’re not sad?” 

Spencer shakes his head. “I’m ecstatic! Because you’re back! And you’re safe and sound!” 

Jude gets guilty and tries to slip into the curve of Spencer’s neck, promising he won’t hide again so long as dad doesn’t cry. Spencer isn’t confused by the hiding anymore, Jude’s paediatrician thinks it’s a reaction to overstimulation, but he goes soft like warm butter whenever Jude’s upset. “I won’t cry, Jude… it’s okay. I’m not upset…” 

Spencer gives him a kiss on the ear and lifts his head back to you. “Okay?” you ask softly, not speaking to one of them in particular. 

“I think Jude’s hungry.” 

“I don’t want milk,” he denies. 

“For dinner,” Spencer agrees. “I think we should have something filling. How about chilli and rice?” 

“No beans?” Jude asks seriously. 

“No beans. I’ll make garlic bread or something too. How does that sound?” 

He speaks so gently you don’t know he’s talking to you until he’s nudging you. 

“Oh, anything you’re making,” you say. 

You’re sure he’s gonna kiss you, though he hasn’t before, but sometimes he’ll work up the courage to kiss your cheek or hold you by the back of the neck, moments of wild intimacy that make you dizzy. He shifts Jude against his chest and dips his nose into wind-brushed curls. “Stop hiding,” he says. 

“Sorry,” Jude sarcs, unexpectedly cheeky. It makes Spencer laugh like a kid, which makes Jude giggle, and for a second you can’t tell whose laugh is whose.

[little-jana]

"Dr. Reid’s Plus-One and A Half"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: some team shenanigans, pregnancy, secret relationship, use of Y/N, season 1 Spencer awkwardness

Summary: The BAU hosts a formal dance, and Spencer shows up with his very pregnant wife—who no one even knew existed. Cue absolute chaos.

a/n: requested: yes! Thank u very much! Enjoy! 🌷

The FBI’s annual formal dance was something Hotch insisted they attend, mostly to keep up appearances with the higher-ups and maintain a sense of normalcy outside of chasing serial killers. While most of the team had plans to go together, no one expected Spencer Reid—the socially awkward, cardigan-wearing genius—to bring a date.

And certainly not a wife.

Yet, there he was, walking into the venue in a well-fitted suit, holding hands with the most adorable, bubbly woman they had ever seen. She had a radiant smile, an excited energy that contrasted Spencer’s usual nervous demeanor, and—oh yeah—a very noticeable baby bump.

Derek Morgan choked on his drink. Penelope Garcia shrieked. JJ’s mouth dropped open. Elle literally did a double-take. Hotch… well, Hotch just looked stunned in the most subtle Hotch way possible.

“WHAT THE HELL, PRETTY BOY?!” Morgan was the first to explode, eyes flicking between Spencer and the woman clinging to his arm.

“Umm…” Spencer adjusted his tie nervously, pushing his glasses up. “Everyone, this is my wife, (Y/N).”

“Your WHAT?!”

“Hi!” You beamed, completely unfazed by their reaction. “I’m so excited to meet all of you! Spencer talks about you guys all the time!”

“Wife?!” JJ echoed, eyes still wide. “You’re married?!”

“And expecting?!” Penelope practically vibrated with excitement, eyes locked on your baby bump.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Surprise?”

“Oh, this is more than a surprise, genius,” Morgan said, crossing his arms. “How the hell did you keep this from us?”

“Well…” Spencer hesitated. “It just never… came up?”

“I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS,” Penelope squealed. “Wait, wait, how did you two even meet?! How long have you been married?! Oh my God, Spencer, you absolute sneaky little nerd!”

You laughed, squeezing Spencer’s arm. “It’s actually a really cute story! We met at a bookstore two years ago—he knocked over an entire display while trying to reach for a book, and I helped him clean it up. We got married about a year ago, and now—” You patted your belly with a grin. “—we’ve got a little one on the way!”

The team collectively lost it.

Morgan looked betrayed. “You mean to tell me this whole time, while I’ve been trying to help this man talk to women, he’s been married to you?”

“Yup!” You chirped happily.

“I have never felt more deceived,” Penelope gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Spencer, you mean to tell me you had a secret wife and didn’t tell your favorite tech goddess?!”

“Uh… surprise?” Spencer repeated awkwardly.

JJ shook her head in disbelief. “I think this might be the most shocking case we’ve ever had.”

Hotch finally stepped forward, looking between you and Spencer with something that almost resembled a smile. “I have to admit, Reid, I didn’t expect this.”

“Neither did I,” Elle muttered.

“Did anyone see this coming?” JJ asked.

“Nope,” Morgan said immediately.

“Not at all,” Penelope added.

“Well, I did tell them about you,” Spencer mumbled to you.

“But you failed to mention the wife part,” you teased.

Spencer sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Okay, okay, I get it. It’s just… I guess I was worried about how you’d all react.”

“Oh, genius, we’re ecstatic,” Penelope assured, bouncing on her heels. “Just completely and utterly blindsided.”

“Seriously, though,” Morgan said, placing a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Congrats, man. You really found yourself someone special.”

Spencer smiled, looking down at you with pure affection. “Yeah. I really did.”

And as the team finally gathered around, asking you a million questions and gushing over your baby bump, Spencer couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming warmth. Maybe he had been nervous about telling them, but now? Seeing how much they cared—for both of you—it was more than he could have ever hoped for.

The BAU’s resident genius: awkward in social situations, but apparently an expert in secret marriages.

[jungwnies]

the dad who stepped up | carlos sainz (cs55)

୨ৎ : featuring : carlos sainz x fem!reader/singlemom!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : not the biological father, but rather the father who stepped up!

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : word count : 947

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this was such a cute little story, i can only imagine the spanglish going crazy in this household <3 psa... intentionally all lowercase

carlos never thought about being a dad so soon. sure, he wanted kids someday, but he always figured it would come later, after racing, after settling down. what he didn’t expect was for you to walk into his life, a single mom with a baby boy who barely knew how to say papa yet.

he met you when your son, nico, was only eight months old. you had been hesitant at first, not wanting to bring someone into your child’s life unless you were sure. but carlos? carlos was patient. he never rushed you, never forced his way in. he just showed up.

at first, it was small things; holding nico when your arms were full, rocking him to sleep when he got fussy, making faces at him across the dinner table just to see him giggle. then, before either of you knew it, nico wasn’t just some baby carlos happened to know. he was his boy.

now, four years later, carlos can’t imagine life any other way.

—

"okay, buddy, one more time, but this time big swings," carlos calls from the backyard, watching as nico grips his tiny golf club, determination all over his little face.

you stand nearby, sipping on a lemonade, watching your two favorite people as the warm breeze rustles through the trees.

nico, tongue sticking out in concentration, takes a swing, too hard, and the plastic ball rolls about a foot away.

"that was amazing!" carlos exclaims, throwing his hands up as if nico just hit a hole-in-one at augusta.

"it barely moved!" nico whines, stomping his foot.

carlos kneels beside him, adjusting his grip. "the trick isn’t power, campeón (champion), it’s control. even papá sainz had to learn that."

you smile, shaking your head as you watch them. “carlos, if you turn him into a golf snob before he even learns how to ride a bike, we’re gonna have a problem.”

carlos grins over his shoulder at you. “you say that now, but when he’s winning the masters, you’ll be thanking me.”

nico nods along, even though he has absolutely no idea what the masters is. “sí, mami! (yes, mommy!)”

your heart melts every time nico switches between english and spanish so naturally, something carlos had made sure to teach him from the moment he could talk.

—

later that evening, after dinner, you’re curled up on the couch together, nico snuggled in between you and carlos with his favorite book in hand.

“papá, can you read the book en español? (papa, can you read the book in spanish?)” nico asks, eyes wide with excitement.

carlos raises an eyebrow, clearly pleased. “sí, pero solo un poquito, eh? (yes, but just a little, okay?) i don’t want you getting confused.”

you smile, resting your head against carlos’s shoulder as he begins reading, seamlessly switching between english and spanish.

"the little dog ran through the…el bosque (the forest)…looking for his friend… pero no lo encontró (but he didn’t find him). so he kept running and running…hasta que… (until…)"

nico listens intently, repeating some of the words in his tiny voice.

“bosque!” he says proudly.

carlos grins, tapping his nose gently. “eso! muy bien, campeón. (that’s it! very good, champion.)”

you watch as carlos pauses and turns to nico. “and what’s a bosque?”

nico scrunches his little face, thinking hard before answering, “umm… a forest?”

carlos nods approvingly. “exacto! (exactly!)”

you laugh, shaking your head. “i swear, this kid is gonna be fluent before i am.”

carlos smirks, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “well, mamá, looks like you need some spanish lessons too.”

you playfully elbow him, making him chuckle.

just as you think nico is starting to doze off, his tiny voice pipes up.

“papá, i’m sleepy… pero i want uno más cuento. (papa, i’m sleepy… but i want one more story.)”

carlos lets out an exaggerated sigh, feigning exhaustion. “one more? vale, uno más. (okay, one more.)”

he flips the page, his voice soft as he continues reading. you feel nico’s breathing slow, his tiny body relaxing between the two of you.

you glance up at carlos, who is watching nico with that same gentle, loving look he always has. he catches you staring and gives you a small smile, his fingers reaching out to brush over your hand.

“you know,” you whisper, “you never had to do any of this.”

carlos furrows his brows. “what do you mean?”

you swallow the lump in your throat. “i mean… you didn’t have to be his dad. you could’ve just dated me and kept your distance. but instead, you’re his person. and i just… i don’t know. i hope you know how much i love you for that.”

carlos studies you for a moment before shaking his head, as if the thought of not stepping up for nico is ridiculous. he lifts your intertwined fingers, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

“i didn’t have to, amor,” he murmurs. “i wanted to. i chose this. i chose you. i chose him. and i’d do it again a thousand times over.”

tears prick your eyes, but before you can say anything, carlos leans down and places a gentle kiss on nico’s forehead.

“buenas noches, mi pequeño campeón. (good night, my little champion.)”

nico barely stirs, already deep in sleep.

carlos turns back to you, smiling softly. “now come on, mamá, let’s go watch bad reality tv and pretend we don’t have to wake up early tomorrow.”

you laugh, shaking your head as you follow him to the couch, where his arm instinctively wraps around you.

carlos sainz wasn’t the father by blood.

but he was the father who stepped up.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[deepwithintheabyss]

#thisss#what i mean when i say where's the meat. where's the development of the relationship#show me these two having a cute and fun dynamic with each other#and not just because they're hot or thrown together by circumstance#show me the jokes and the flirting and the arguments and the distress#show me that they want to comfort each other even when they don't know how yet#show me that they LIKE each other!! that they think the other person is just. neat!! or cool! or smart!#why would they die for each other? why is it so important that they live and keep on living?#like. for example the raven cycle did it so good lmao#blue and gansey LIKE each other!! 'i can sleep after i talk to her'. Ronan and Adam are FRIENDS. AUGH#i am permanently dissatisfied now with love at first sight. like i always kind of have been? but if it's never examined past that i yawn#love at first sight is fine if and only if you either a) deconstruct the original assumption of that person#or b) you give me more afterward that justifies the instant chemistry#do not separate them until you've given me an adequate reason they should care!!#oh oh. stardust (the movie) did this really well actually#tristan is 'in love' with victoria but it's in that shallow way. His relationship with Yvaine is actually explored. they argue and talk#they find common ground and become friends. it's still very fast (one week!!) but it feels grounded in something *real*#and that's. the point!!! their story is literally about moving beyond a shallow love and finding something true!!#how do you earn the heart of a star? you love it.#okay rant over via @ragnarokhound

I really like fictional couples that actually enjoy spending time with each other. It seems like such a simple, mundane thing. But, often, I see fictional couples who are completely enamored and dramatic and willing to die for each other, which is fine. But like… do they enjoy hanging out? Do they have private jokes and would they be friends even if they weren’t in love? It feels like such a basic thing, but it’s something that I actually don’t see that often. And it feels so refreshing and honest compared to these over-dramatic romeo and juliet-esque romances. Just two people who become good friends and because they enjoy each other’s presence so much it grows into a strong attraction. It feels more real and tangible than two attractive people meeting and “falling in love at first sight” - like, of course, you fell in love at first sight! You’re both supermodels! Sorry, can’t relate.

[demonic0angel]

For whatever reasons, Jazz becomes Damian's foster parent for about a year.

(May I introduce you to the ‘Damian grows up as a Fenton’ AU? XD However, this ask won’t be related to that AU)

Damian felt cold.

“… I’m going back?”

Bruce frowned. “Yes. Of course, you’re going back to Gotham.”

Damian could not help the glance that he took by his side, where the presence of Jazz was absent. Bruce had caught him while he was out with friends, and he had been forced into a conversation with his father for the first time in a year.

Yes, a year. A year since he had been tossed out of the manor for “protection” and put into foster care. It had been hell at first, but Jazz was the most patient, rewarding, and kindest person he had ever met, possibly even above Alfred or Richard.

And now he would be separated from her again.

Damian was silent before he then said slowly, “I see.” Shadow brushed against his legs, ever watching with its wide eyes and Damian could see Bruce recoil at the sight of the strange dog. He resisted a smile and then reached downwards to pick them up. “When am I expected to be leaving?”

“In a week,” Bruce said, grimacing. “We’ll talk to your… guardian and thank her for her assistance.”

Yes. Because taking care of him and showing him proper familial love was merely assistance.

Damian’s eyes were half lidded. “I see.”

Bruce stared at him and opened his mouth. But after a moment, he didn’t say anything and then just turned around to leave. Damian watched him go and when he was assured that no one was looking, looked down at Shadow and said, “Take me back to Jazz.”

Shadow did so with a whoosh of its powers and Damian dropped into the kitchen, where Jazz stood in front of the stove, blinking at the sight of him.

“Damian!” She said, beaming at him, cheerful as ever. “Welcome home! Are you hungry? Go wash your hands, I tried making potato soup today.”

Damian gently lowered Shadow to the ground and then strode over to throw himself into Jazz’s embrace, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face into her stomach. She startled but then quickly dropped to the ground in a squat, holding him carefully.

“What’s wrong, Damian? Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it?” She continued holding him in a hug and her vanilla-ocean fragrance was a comfort as always.

“…. My father approached me. He wants me to go back and he said that he’ll talk to you.”

Jazz froze. Then carefully, she asked, “Do you want to go back?”

Did he?

He loved being Robin and in a way, he had loved his siblings. They had pushed for him to stay but Bruce’s orders had been absolute and whatever he had said to them seemed to have reluctantly convinced them to let Damian go. They still secretly visited and sent him photos on the occasion, but Damian did not miss Gotham City.

He liked being here. He liked the schools here. He liked the curricular courses and the many ghosts. He liked his new friends and being a civilian and walking around town to find blob ghosts and get ice cream on the weekend with his foster uncles and aunts. He liked Shadow and Danny and Dante and Ellie and Samantha and Tucker and everyone else.

And most of all, he liked being with Jazz.

“……… no,” he said reluctantly and then the flood broke through the dam. Jazz never judged him for his acts of weaknesses, and even now, all she did was wrap her arms around him and pull him into a cradled hug, stroking his hair and back as he sobbed into her shoulder.

He couldn’t help but admit quietly, “I want to be here with you.”

The admission burned but it was true. He had never been happier than when he was with Jazz.

Jazz didn’t pull back, only squeezing him tighter. “Then I’ll fight for you. Whatever it takes, alright? You can stay here with me, as long as you want, Dami.”

Damian nodded, tears still flowing from his eyes as he felt the comforting press of Shadow against his side and Jazz’s hold completely encompassing him. He ducked his head into her neck and went slack. She took all of his weight and just held him like he was a babe, tightly, securely, protectively.

The words, ‘I’ll fight for you,’ were a comfort and a promise that he had never gotten before.

But oddly enough, he completely believed in it.

[lethargiccryptid]

Undoing || Alucard x Reader

You love Alucard, and you've no doubt that he adores you... but years of repression and shame leave you hesitant in matters of intimacy, no matter though, your love is a patient sort of man, willing to wait until you are ready for the ultimate undoing

“The potatoes must be in season.” Alucard mused, piercing one of the smaller field potatoes on his plate. Your eyes lingered on your own food, hardly touched. “Love?” His voice tempted you from whatever deep places your mind had wandered. Sighing, you pushed at the peas with your knife. 

“I fear I’m not inclined towards sex.” Alucard’s hand paused, fork centimeters from parted lips and looked at you wryly. 

“What has that to do with whether the potatoes are in season?” His lips curl up to show the barest hint of fang. 

You prattle on seemingly unawares of the diametrically opposed directions of your topics of conversation. “That is, it isn’t something that comes naturally to me. Certainly, I am capable of seeming like a sexual being, of affecting a nature similar to that of a siren of old.”  

Alucard simply continues with his meal, albeit with an air of bemusement, he’s come to find your seemingly random wanderings a thing of second nature. 

“Your affectation in the library yesterday afternoon was quite convincing.”Your neck flushed with the memory of his fingers and lips trailing along your heated skin as his voice bled into your consciousness. “I must say, I quite like your…affectations.” Looking up, you were met with the burning amber of his eyes. 

“It’s hardly- that was hardly, sex.” You whisper the word as though it were an ugly thing. Thoroughly unphased, he merely shrugged and popped another potato into his mouth. 

“The exploration of my fingers under your garments and yours beneath mine begs to differ.” He says the words as though he’s talking about nothing more than the weather. Your fingers, trembling, reach for your wine glass. The strong notes of currant and bramble berries assault your tongue, and as the bitter heat runs down your throat, you feel strangely grounded. Nose screwing in distaste, you lean back and close your eyes. 

“Be that as it may, there were still clothes involved.” Your voice waivers with the barest hint of nerves as you study the now empty glass. A single drop running down the side catches your notice, stealing your eyes away from Alucard’s. 

“I’m in no great hurry to undo you, my love.” You know he means to comfort, truly you do, but somehow, those words prickle at your skin more than if he’d admitted to being terribly impatient. Your lack of eye contact and stiff posture are not lost on your observant lover. Deftly, as only a dhampir can be, Alucard comes to stand behind your chair with preternatural speed. 

“It is alright to desire things.” The words spoken, velvety and soft are your undoing. Shoulders slumping, you fold in on yourself, coming to rest your forehead on top of steepled fingers. “It is alright to want things.” His voice comes as a welcome balm, as welcome as his fingers that toy with a curl at the nape of your neck. “It is alright to want things with me.” 

“Even things I’d like you to do to me, I suppose.” You murmur, tone acrid as the wine still lingering on your tongue. Alucard’s fingers come to a halt, his thumb tracing lightly at the back of your neck now. 

“Especially those things.” The heat growing around his words is not lost on you as his touch stirs prickles down your scalp, raising the skin of your arms to goose flesh. 

“I can hardly-” 

“There are no secrets between us mă iubire, I desire to know the things that stir your heart, and other places.” His tone takes on a teasing edge towards the end, lightening your mood a little. 

That had always been one of the things you’d loved most about your darling love. No matter how morose your mood or how dark the shadows that lingered about your soul, tinging your eyes, Alucard always managed to lighten your spirit without admonishing you to banish that melancholy entirely. He was content to sit with you in those dark spaces- as you did with him. 

Try as you might to muster up a smile, the embarrassment of years stayed and repressed kept your head bent and your shoulders sloped. “Alucard, I can scarcely tell you that I have the most… erotically devine imaginings about you.” Once the words start, they seem to have no beginning or end. “It wouldn’t be seemly for me to tell you that I thrill at the feel of your incisors at my throat. That I yearn for the warmth of your touch at my breast, your tongue between my-” Your face heated at the impassioned nature of your diatribe. 

Alucard scarcely gave you a moment to regret that confession, his lips quick to soothe any lingering hesitation as they mapped a path down to the base of your neck. Long fingers nudged at your jaw, waiting until you turned ever so slightly before he was on his knees aside you, pressing open mouthed kisses along the column of your neck in eager supplication. 

“Whenever you are ready,” He murmured against your ear, fingers settling at the swell of your breast over the satin of your bodice, “I will be here, and very much willing to undo you.” 

TL: @unintentionalseductress

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"ONE STEP TWO STEP THREE STEP OW!"

Synopsis: Young weird Neglected black!reader can't waltz and Bruce won't dance with you but Mr. Oliver Queen can teach you a few moves

You love galas, like really, really love galas: the architecture of the buildings, which could look Roman or Victorian; the bright chandeliers that glimmer like little stars; the intricate details on every piece of furniture and wall-to-door; the gold accents and trim. It's all just perfect. It feels like you're a princess on a special stage, like you're in a musical and you're the lead star, ready to burst into song after only two lines and do a comedic dance number. The men and women dressed elegantly, with jewels and watches from their great-great-grandparents that they took for granted, replacing heirlooms like loose change. Speaking in posh accents over champagne, they talked about their trips around the world or petty politics, using big words they never used before. It just makes you giggle, but you loved nothing more than the band's music. You'd clap after every performance, and the composer would always take a bow for you. But the thing you loved most of all was the dancing—how the women's dresses would sway as they waltzed and how the men would spin the ladies around adoringly. It was like you were living in the movie Anastasia. And you wanted to dance, to move like them, but you never knew how. It's only been a couple of months since you were integrated into this aristocratic lifestyle, and yet you know every little. Alfred tried to teach you everything there was to being classy, but the old man was far too busy teaching the boys how to behave at galas, so you had to work it out on your own. Alfred taught you a few waltz steps, but not the whole thing, so when it came to dancing, you were hopeless, like a duckling with feet too big for its body. But when the announcer at the gala told the fathers to dance with their daughters, you thought this was your shot—your shot to dance with Bruce, for him to teach you the moves, for you two to bond like you were meant to. I mean, you are his little girl; he should be running to you right about now, ready to put your little feet on top of his as he guides you and teaches you how to waltz. But Bruce doesn't show up. You looked around to see that every little girl and older girl was holding her dad's hand, stepping on his toes, and twirling around like princesses, except you. Everyone had a partner except you. You pushed past the happy fathers and daughters to find him, only to see that he had picked someone else. He was doing the waltz with Cass; they were laughing as she struggled to grasp the steps. You couldn't hear what they were saying due to the chatter of the room, but you knew they were having the time of their lives. But that didn't bother you; you would just wait for your turn, like a kid on a swing set watching the other kids take their merry-old-time. You can just wait and wait and wait, staring at the two. They looked so happy and energetic. You wouldn't lie; you were a tad bit jealous. I mean, you were younger than Cass; you were his little girl; you should have had that dance, not her. But jealousy wouldn't take you anywhere; you just had to wait your turn. They almost looked related; maybe it was the dark black hair or the pale skin. You looked at yourself and began to feel like an outcast. You nervously fixed your dress, pulling at the purple frills. Almost everyone in the blow room was white. Maybe Bruce just didn't want to be seen with you; maybe he was embarrassed. You shook your head— that couldn’t be the reason. Don’t be stupid; just be patient. Yeah, that's right—patient. You can be patient. But as you watched Cass lean her head on his shoulder, it should be you. You saw Bruce place his chin on her hair, and if you weren't jealous before, you certainly were now. You waited long enough, so you walked up to them and tugged on Bruce's suit.

"Hey," you squeaked, your voice sounding like a mouse. You started to fiddle with your fingers.

"I was waiting a bit, and I wanted to know if I could dance with you," you mumbled gently. He looked down at you; blue eyes shining like bright diamonds.

"Not right now, [Name]." He dismissed you like a secretary at Wayne Enterprises.

"But it's a father-daughter dance, and I've been waiting for a while now." Your voice trembled, and you started to feel yourself get angry.

"[Name], you're starting to act childish," he whispered. When he whispered like that, he was trying to hide his anger.

"But I've been waiting for an hour; it's just not fair," You saw him glare at you and stopped talking. You felt yourself shrink, getting smaller and smaller, but you weren't shrinking; you were just getting scared.

You stormed off walking right out the gala you felt angry furious even then you felt a familiar clench in your throat it was strong so very strong it made you want to cough you knew thar feeling better then anyone else you were going to cry so sat you sat on the pearly white steps and let those baby tears flow then you felt a rough hand on your shoulder you yelped out in fear and you swiftly moved away looking up from the ground to see a tall blonde hair man with bright emerald green eyes

"Hey, I don't bite," he chuckled, standing tall in front of you. You still kept your distance and sat down on the steps.

"So why are you out here all alone while everyone's having fun?" he said with a soft smile. You wiped your face and puffed out your chest, trying to look tough, but you were just a girl, and plus, he was a stranger. You shouldn't talk to strangers, but you were lonely, and your "dad" would rather dance with Cass than you.

"I was supposed to have a daddy-daughter dance with my dad, but he's too busy dancing with my older sister," you sniffled, grumbling just a little.

"Oh, you want to dance? Don't you think it's a bit silly?" he asked, and it made you frown.

"It's not silly!" You raised your voice, then lowered it to a whisper.

"It's lovely—the music, the fancy steps. It's all just lovely, like being in a movie," you explained, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Tonight, he was going to teach me how to waltz," you huffed. You heard the blonde man chuckle. How dare he make fun of you! You were about to let out a mean quip when he spoke.

"You can't waltz?" he said, holding back a chuckle and covering his mouth with a hand that looked calloused and rough, as if he'd been hitting drywall.

"Don't laugh!" you whined, annoyed.

"I'm not; it's just super easy to do," the older man said with a smirk.

"Well, I wouldn't know; I've never done it before." You felt a pout coming, and you quickly tried to hide it.

"Wait, you've never waltzed before?" he said, looking at you confusedly. Someone of your status should at least know the basics.

"Never" you answered

"Never ever?"

"Never in history." You felt yourself wanting to cry. Then he smiled down at you and stood up.

"Come on, I'll teach you. There are no perks to being a wallflower." His hands reached out, and you saw the little scars on his hand. With nothing better to do, you took his, and he led you back into the gala. He held your hand and hip gently.

"All you have to do is step in the square," he intruded, and you followed his steps from down to side, to up, and side to down again. Then he twirled you around, making you giggle. You felt like a princess, finally, until you stepped on his foot. He winced, and it made you snort. He gave you a fake glare, the older man smirking.

"You never told me your name?"

"You never told me yours?" he said, and you glared at him.

"I'm [Name], [Name] Wayne," you answered confidently.

"A Wayne?" he said, shocked.

"What's wrong with being a Wayne?" You huffed.

"Nothing. I don't get along with Wayne very well; they tend to get on my nerves," he admitted with a sigh.

"Tell me about it," you agreed.

"Anyway, I'm Oliver Queen's friend. Call me Ollie, and your dad calls me a bastard," and you laughed.

"Nice to meet you, Ollie," you smiled up at him gently. You wondered if you should switch dads like playing cards. Little did you know, Bruce was in the corner seething at the sight of Ollie making you laugh and giggle and twirling you around. He almost broke his champagne glass. He didn't want to cause a scene, but he was close to crashing out and having it be posted on Twitter. He was searching for you, ready to apologize and give you your dance, but there you were, letting someone like Oliver have the dance. He'll make sure to deal with that blonde later.

[catvampire]

hey! you can help with that!

#[thing]edit tag! visit it, follow it, follow people in there! people who make edits and gifsets have been playing with these tags for a decade, they're there for a reason. instead of looking up #wicked, look for #wickededit. instead of looking up #star wars, look for #swedit. if there's an entire platform or channel with multiple shows with a big fanbase, it might have its own tag, like #cwedit or #netflixedit. if you want to be surprised and just see nice gifs, big tags like #tvedit and #filmedit are just fun to browse

reblog edits and gifsets! especially if you're into something niche. talk about the scene, or how the gifset was edited, or just reblog frequently and people will make more. and not just the big fancy ones, also reblog gifsets just for the sake of it.

follow gifmakers! make your dash provide the gifs for you. this should be obvious and yet people will comment "wow i didn't know people giffed X!!" and. not do anything with that. ur dash is never gonna look like it did in 2014 if you don't follow people who make that content

this website has gotten super mobile focused and a lot of people haven't relearnt how to be enthusiastic about/to/with fandom content creators now that cringe is free. if you want more gifsets, reblog gifsets like u used to!!

you used to be able to go into a tag after you watched a little movie and find a gorgeous little gifset or photoset or 12 and now you're lucky if you can wade through all the xreader posts to find even one we used to be a website

[allfearstofallto]

"Do you think he likes me?"

Wanderer blinks a couple times. His expression is unreadable, but the way he slams his book shut without even checking the page tells you enough. He won't admit it, but your little question infuriated him, hands trembling as they rest upon the cover of his book. His blue eyes seem to pierce through you, showing that despite his fuming, he's giving you his full attention.

"Who?" His voice doesn't have that usual snark to it. That way of speech that makes him sound like he's better than every one else. Now, the one word, bitter and harsh, is spoken with a seething rage that he can barely contain through gritted teeth.

You shrug your shoulders with a look of whistful longing on your face, "Just this guy I've been interest in,"

He clicks his tongue, folding his arms, and looking away with one leg crossed over the other, all clear displays of his disdain. You'd seen him do these little actions before, but never all at once. He was really mad, but that much was obvious.

"He's not worth your time," he grumbled beneath his breath. His lips seemed to be straining to get the words out, still pressed together tightly in a line.

"You don't even know who he is,"

Wanderer is hearing none of it, waving his hand defensively in your face to cut you off. He's tapping his foot now, another one of those things he did when he was angry, and you couldn't help, but chuckle at how tightly wound up he'd gotten from just one question.

"I don't need to know who he is," he began, finally turning to look at you again. That harsh look in his eyes wasn't directed at you, but rather this person he was imagining, "I'm the only one who's good enough for you-"

Wanderer paused. He stopped speaking completely. Stopped tapping his foot, stopped gritting his teeth. He even stopped making that angry expression, instead changing to one of surprise as even he was shocked by what he said. A red flush raised all the way up from his neck, to his cheeks, and even the tips of his ears. You could practically feel the warmth coming off of his face, followed by him messily trying to stammer out words.

"J-just- just forget I said anything," he was up from his seat quickly and out the door in a pace so quick, you were sure he'd sprinted, leaving behind the book he seemed so focused on before.

All you could do was sit there stiffly, a mixture of surprise and amusement at his sudden confession. The face he made was cute. The way he turned red with little stimulation. You could only wonder what expression he'd make when he realized that it was him you were talking about.

[ipushhimback]

my world

pairing: lando norris x reader warnings: none word count: 1.2 k

summary: lando with a woman and 2 kids in the paddock?

Lando has always been a private person. Of course, he occasionally posted a vlog, showed clips of his golfing, streamed, or just showed some racing related stuff.

What no one of the fans knew was, that after every single race there is his family waiting for him. They nearly found out when Lando streamed and their daughter decided that it was the perfect moment to throw a tantrum because she didn’t want to eat her dinner as it was ‘the wrong shape’.

But now that Livy was three and understood what her dad does for a living she really wanted to watch a race so Y/N and Lando had agreed to take her to the Monaco Grand Prix. It was near their home so if anything became to much for the kids, Y/N could just take them home and they would watch the rest of the race from their balcony.

So today you were dressed in a simple baggy jeans, that weren’t so baggy anymore when you compare them to Charles’, and a papaya colored shirt, though no one could see the ‘LN4’ printed on it because of the wraparound baby carrier in which the one month old Aiden was sleeping peacefully.

Livy was wearing a cute white dress with tiny orange flowers printed on it. She was holding Lando’s hand and happily walking through the paddock as if she had done it a million times before.

“I’ll just introduce you to Oscar real quick. Lily isn’t here today so if you want to go to another garage to talk to someone other than the mechanics you can just do that, ok?”, Lando asked as he looked at you with a wide smile that let you know he was happy for you to be here today.

“I know, Lan. You’ve told me that ten times already”, you said leaving forward and pressing a kiss on his lips.

“I know, baby, Just making sure”, your husband said, still smiling.

“Daddy? Why are there no cars?”, Livy said as she looked up at Lando, looking completely confused. Her dad picked her up.

“They are in the garages, baby girl. You will see them later, ok?”

Livia scrunched her nose in disappointment.

“Hm. Wanna see cars now.”

“I know. Oh! There is Oscar! Hey, Osc. How’re you doing?”, Lando asked casually.

You couldn’t help but see how confused the Australian looked.

“Uhm… good? Who… is that?”, Oscar asked while he tried to be polite but he looked absolutely puzzled.

“That is my family. Surprise, I guess. Y/N, my wife. Livy, my daughter. And the little one is Aiden, our baby boy. Sorry I didn’t tell you about them but I really didn’t want the kids to be in the media so much already.”

What Lando didn’t know was that the whole internet was already going wild.

#####

f1gossip Lando Norris seen at the paddock with a woman and kids. Does he have a new girlfriend?

username1 omg. lando is dating a single mom??

username2 pretty sure she is a gold digger…

username3 did she baby trap lando…?

username4 please tell me lando isn’t going to retire now bc he feels like he has to take care of those kids…

username5 pretty sure she only wants his money…

username6 guys do your research. she is Y/N L/N… ceo of some company and literally richer than lando…

#####

Livy in the meanwhile was mesmerized.

“Oscy has pretty hair”, she whispered into her dad’s ear though it was so loud that Oscar heard it and started laughing which made Livia all shy.

“Thank you, little one”, he said while he was still laughing which made Liv hide her face in Lando’s neck who just bounced her a little and laughed.

“She is a little shy. Sorry, mate”, he said to his teammate.

“All good. And this is Aiden? He is super cute”, Oscar said while looking at Aiden who was peacefully sleeping.

“Yes. That’s our little one. He was super mad today when I woke him up to get him dressed though so he is mostly sleeping now”, you said smiling at your little baby boy who sighed in his sleep.

Oscar smiled while looking at the newborn and you started wondering if he will ever also have a kid with Lily.

“Daddy. Wanna see the cars now. Please?”, Livia asked though she was immediately distracted when she saw Charles with his girlfriend Alex walking by. But these two weren’t the ones who got Liv’s attention. It was Leo who was running after the couple on a leash.

“DADDY! THERE IS A DOGGY!”, she explained and squirmed in her dad’s arms to make him put her down.

The second her feet touched the ground she started running over to Leo and plopped down on the ground next to the dachshund who immediately started licking her face.

“Livia Norris! You can’t just run off, did you hear me?”, Lando scolded his daughter. “There are many people and cars which can be dangerous. Mommy and I told you to always stay close to us.”

„Sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean to but dog is cute, look!“, The toddler said while pointing at Leo. „What’s doggy‘s name?“, Liv asked Charles who was standing next to her.

„That’s Leo. He is cute, isn’t he?“, the Monegasque said to Liv while looking at his dog with a proud smile which made Livy nod enthusiastically.

Livia was now looking at Alex who was standing a bit behind Charles.

„You pretty“, she said looking at Alex‘ red dress and then looking back at Leo.

„Thank you sweetie! That’s very nice of you! But so do you. Such a pretty dress. Did you choose it yourself?“, Alex asked while crouching down to be on the same level as Liv.

„No. My mommy said I should wear it because it makes me look like a princess. But daddy said I wear it because the flowers are orange“, she answered shrugging nonchalantly.

Alex just nodded not knowing what to say now. But it didn’t really matter anyway as Liv already spotted Lewis and was immediately obsessed with his braids. She squealed and ran over to the ferrari driver.

„Your hair is so pretty! Did your mommy do that? My mommy always does my hair!“, the little girl said looking up at Lewis while Lando just groaned.

„She already loves half the grid more than me“, he said to you pretending to pout as he wraps an arm around your waist and walked over to Lewis and Livy while he pulled out his phone. „Oh wow the internet is calling you a gold digger now. Interesting“, he said rolling his eyes.

„Let them talk. They will find out who is paying for your golf trips soon enough“, you said chuckling.

But Lando really couldn’t just let them talk. You were his family and important to him.

lando My world (and just for the record she is not a gold digger)

username1 lando has been hiding a whole family for years???

username2 cant believe lando is dating her… he could do so much better

username3 the haters are always gonna hate…

username4 such a cute family they look so happy

username5 not liv loving half the grid more than lando…

a/n: y’all don’t know how long this took me even though it isn’t long or anything…

taglist: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 

[cosmosluckycharms]

Show☆Time

this night has opened my eyes

After a while of you sobbing quietly on the floor of your room, you finally got up and locked in.

First off, you changed out of your performer costume into a more casual outfit.

Your performer costume was soaked from the water, so you hung it up to dry and clean later.

You needed a plan

so you started a plan.

You had lots of ideas planned out. All of which were very elaborate.

Different ways to get them all together to make amends, different ways for them to talk, plans to make everyone apologize and get together to become a troop.

You get out your comically large whiteboard and regular-sized markers and start planning on what to do.

You spend a couple of hours finding ideas, only for you to keep running into problems.

You didn't know what to do.

You were stuck.

You decided to just walk to the park to tell Tsukasa you would have to quit, it was nearby anyway.

Walking out of the manor wasn't hard, they wouldn't notice you walking out. They were away at whatever rich people jobs they had.

You never saw them at night, and you never understood why.

As you made your way to the theme park, you tried to make yourself as small as possible to not get seen by anyone bad.

You tried to calm your nerves by thinking of memories to keep your mind off the whole situation.

You think about how one time when you were younger, around 10 years old, while getting up to get water you saw Nightwing in costume in the kitchen.

You saw as he froze like he was shocked to see you walk in.

You smiled at him and waved, you were half asleep and assumed he was a hallucination.

He waved and smiled back to you and you just walked back to your room.

For a while, you assumed that either Nightwing was coming into the manor to steal something, or he was just visiting.

Either that or you were dreaming.

You assumed you were dreaming.

You smiled at the memory. Nightwing has been one of your favorite vigilantes since you were younger.

You liked how his smile seemed to light up the room.

You liked how his smile reminded you of your older brother, Dick's smile.

You wanted to smile like Nightwing and Dick.

You were close to the park when you saw a red hood on a rooftop.

You saw him watching you, somewhat menacingly.

You get scared for a moment, You've heard stories about the crime lord and the people he's killed.

Sure, they were bad people and you had never done anything bad, but you could never be too sure!

You smiled and waved to him, which caught him slightly by surprise. Usually, people didn't smile and wave at someone they were scared of.

You walked a little faster, you needed to hurry before it was too late at night.

The park closes at 9, and it was now 8:26 pm.

You didn't notice how Red Hood kept watching you.

You didn't notice how he started coming towards you.

As soon as he got within 7 feet behind you, you could sense him.

You spun around dramatically to look at him.

You waved to him, again. "Hii!" You said excitedly, hoping this interaction will take your mind off everything. You realized you did not sound as excited as you usually did, probably from the sadness you felt.

"You look happy," He said walking towards you.

He didn't know why he felt the need to talk to you. He had never even had a conversation with you.

"Not really." You looked down at your feet, slightly sad.

You see him sitting down on a bench nearby and patting the seat next to him.

"Well, what's up?" He asks as you sit down next to him.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your leg shaking from nervousness.

Were you in trouble? Had you done something wrong? Why was he stopping you? Didnt he have people to fight?

"I mean, you look upset," He said, pointing out the obvious.

You started explaining everything to him.

About how you started a group and how it fell apart.

"I don't know what to do. I was just on my way to tell my friend I was gonna quit. It's no use to keep trying." You said while having your head in your hands and trying not to cry.

Jason didn't understand.

You usually weren't like this.

You usually wouldn't quit.

You were the type of person to keep going no matter what.

He's seen you fall down and get up likr it was nothing!

He leaned up against the railing of the bench. "Well, why would you quit?"

"What do you mean?" You asked as you lifted your head from your hands.

"I mean, why quit when you're almost there? All you have to do is go to the park, find them, and tell them to keep going. encourage them like you encouraged others." You watched as he stretched a little.

You thought about it for a minute.

"Plus, wouldn't you want to keep going for your grandfather? he would want you to keep going, right?"

He was right.

You had to keep going.

You had to go ahead and convince Tsukasa to apologize to Nene and Rui.

You had to convince them all to stay together.

You got up from the bench.

"Thank you for everything, Mr. Red Hood!" you waved bye to him and started running towards the theme park.

You checked the time on your phone.

8:47 PM

If you ran fast enough, you could probably make it in time to find Tsukasa and make him apologize!

So you ran.

You ran and ran like there was no tomorrow.

When you finally got to the park, you stopped for a second to try and find Tsukasa.

You find him packing his stuff up on the stage, and he has also already taken off his performer costume.

You grabbed him by the shoulders and practically yelled to him "TSUKASA- WENEEDTOGETTHEGROUPBACKTOGETETHERANDANDAND-!" You talked too fast. You made no sense. You were scared and nervous.

"Y-Y/N! Slow down! I can't understand you!" Tsukasa said, his head feeling like it was spinning.

You took a deep breath and started yelling again, this time you accidentally shook him violently. "WE NEED THE GROUP BACK TOGETHER! We need to create smiles! Us breaking up was a dumb idea!" Your eyes were slightly teary, you were passionate about this.

It took a couple of minutes of you convincing Tsukasa (and apologizing for shaking him and leaving him dizzy) before you guys went to look for Nene and Rui.

When you guys finally found them, the park was about to close for the night. You guys had to hurry.

Nene and Tsukasa apologized to each other, Nene for ruining the show and Tsukasa for yelling at her.

Rui was holding a slight grudge, which makes sense, but you were sad about it.

It took all 3 of you to convince him to come back to the stage and forgive Tsukasa, and it worked!

You all got kicked out of the park for the day because technically you guys were trespassing, so you 3 parted ways and went home.

While walking home, you started thinking about your day.

You liked thinking about it, it made you feel like you were living through it again.

You realized you had never told Mr.Red Hood about your grandpa.

How did he know about that?

oh god rhis was so short sorry

PLEASE why do i keep accidentally neglecting emu reader hi guys

also jasons prolly ooc sorru

taglist:@shirp-collector-of-fixations @maybeethan69 @iluvcatzz @tacendxx @ninihrtss @tsxukikami @d3sperate-enuf @staarflowerr @chaoticmoontimetravel @crazycaoticsimp @sugarrush-blush @kaitense1 @ryuushou

[just-a-living-meat-thing]

L Lawliet:

- everyone assumes she’s a man until she actually stands up straight (better yet. she’s absolutely non-passing, only socially transitioned, and everyone assumes she’s a man until Watari refers to her with she/her pronouns. If anyone calls her by any other pronouns she pretends not to hear or just stares blankly until they get it right)

- honestly wouldn’t change that much; L is pretty disconnected from gender as it is

- probably started socially transitioning before she was in her preteens. I don’t think she put much thought into it or figuring out the labels for her gender, I think she just wanted to experiment a little and then found out that it actually fit so much better than her assigned gender

- the only physical difference would be that she allows her hair to grow out just a little bit longer than in canon, but only by like, an inch or two

- is most likely agender but prefers only she/her pronouns, especially when she’s talking in Japanese

Light Yagami:

- REPRESSED REPRESSED REPRESSED REPRESSED REPRESSED—

- probably is not actually a binary trans woman; I think she’d fluctuate between many pronouns. Light is transfemme genderfluid to me (but they would never know it)

- she’d never dive too deep into her own feelings of discomfort and shame regarding his body or their role in life; Light would probably chalk it up to her general malaise for life and simply ignore it. Plus, being genderfluid/genderqueer, they probably wouldn’t feel the Dysphoria™️ alllll the time, so she’d feel safe to just disregard any odd feelings of discontent and categorize them as normal growing up experiences

- she does get euphoria at being called “pretty” or “cute”. It’s why she has a 15 step skin routine—despite the clothes he wears and the otherwise masculine persona she keeps up, sometimes people struggle, just for a moment, to determine her gender. Light ultimately never transitions (he doesn’t have the self-aware capacity for that) but she does dream about it sometimes (they never tell anyone, not even Ryuk, and they die with more lies in her throat that even she isn’t aware of)

- L picks up on this and at one point tries to broach the subject but Light gets too defensive and they just end up fighting again. L never brings it up again, and by the time Light could’ve maybe been willing to listen, it’s too late

- Light allows Misa to paint his nails clear just twice a year. He hides the euphoria it gives her, acts annoyed and embarrassed every time, playing up the long-suffering dutiful boyfriend act, but doesn’t actually mind all that much

Matsuda:

- hidden disconnect from her actual gender identity exacerbates her constant feelings of failure, loneliness, and her inability to keep romantic relationships

- she likely doesn’t start figuring things out until after the Kira Case is over, and she has too much time to herself to drown in her grief

- I also doubt that Matsuda would be open with her gender until at least years later. And at that point, she might feel as if it were too late, that she might as well just be Matsuda, and nothing else (someone please show her I Saw The TV Glow)

- has a lot of internalized shame over her identity and feels as though she would be letting a lot of people down if she came out

- she also has butch vibes to me. More loser butch transfemmes with big sopping hearts please!!

Near:

- pretty much the same as L, but he doesn’t care what pronouns people use for her. Most people who meet her after she grows her hair out use she/her pronouns, and after a while they just stuck. Near doesn’t really care either way

- likes making people guess her gender and watching them squirm as they struggle to get the “right” answer

- like Matsuda, also probably transitioning a few years after the Kira case. Unlike Matsuda, she didn’t realize they were transitioning until one of her team said something awkwardly, clumsily, supportive and she was like “? Is that what I’ve been doing?”

- does not ever surgically transition or take estrogen; the process would be too tedious to her and she doesn’t mind the body she already has

Benoit Blanc:

- literally nothing changes she just starts going by she/her now whenever she’s on a case

If you see this post you’re legally required to tell me at least one trans woman headcanons you have for a canonically male character, I never get to see transfem headcanons like that, give me them, and for equality of my own please know estrogen could have saved Insector Haga and Dinosaur Ryuzaki I will not elaborate, also Yuya.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

So this is 5k words. Didn't mean for that to happen. This is for BuckTommy Fluffebruary Day Sixteen: Didn't Know They Were Dating AU. This is the one fill that doesn't take place in the same timeline as my other fills and is set in some nebulous period between 405 and 409. So Buck knows about Daniel. Jes-Yun isn't born yet. You can also read this on AO3 here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

They meet one night when Maddie is asked to cover a shift at the last minute and Chimney begs Buck to step in for a karaoke trivia thing he'd been invited to. When he arrives at the bar, Chimney is sitting with two big guys at a table. One of the guys introduces himself as Sal, and he seems cool enough. The other guy is Tommy, and he's definitely really cool.

“My girlfriend's brother is stepping in for her,” Chimney explains.

“H-hey,” Buck says, waving awkwardly. “I'm Evan. Buck. Evan Buckley.”

It's the least smooth way he's ever introduced himself in his adult life, but he keeps wondering what the hell Tommy's diet and exercise routine is. The guy is massive. He's so warm, though, when he shakes Buck's hand. Literally, because his hands are radiating heat, but he also smiles with his whole face instead of just a polite tilt of his mouth. Buck finds himself smiling back and ducking his head when Tommy lets his hand go.

“Wasn't your girlfriend the secret karaoke weapon?” Sal asks.

“Yeah, but this guy's the secret trivia weapon,” Chimney says, clapping Buck on the shoulder. “You said science and history always gets you, right? Here's your solution.”

Buck flushes and shrugs when Tommy's eyes sweep over him. “I hope I can help.”

He settles in for a night of karaoke trivia, and he's not much help on the pop culture stuff. But there's an entire series of questions themed around popular animals at the LA Zoo, and Buck gets all of them. As he answers, Tommy's blue eyes stay on him, and Buck finds himself answering with more and more confidence. When Celestial Bodies turns out to be the next category, he's quick to answer everything he knows instead of waiting politely for everyone else in the group.

By the end, the Worst Responders (Sal’s idea) win the night, and they sit with a pitcher of beer, their pride, and a Visa gift card each. When Chimney goes to take a call from Maddie and Sal gets up to use the bathroom, Buck suddenly doesn't know what to say to Tommy.

“That was pretty amazing, Evan,” Timmy says, raising his glass.

Buck opens his mouth to correct him, but instead he clinks their glasses and says, “Not so bad yourself, Tommy.”

Tommy's eyes dip as they both take long drinks of their beer, and Buck hopes he doesn't have something on his chin. He wipes it with the back of his hand just to be on the safe side.

“Man, I can't believe you can fly,” Buck says, settling back into his chair. “That's so cool.”

“Well,” Tommy says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile, “I need the aircraft to fly.”

Buck makes a face at him. “Yeah, I know, but it's amazing. I always wanted to learn. When I was traveling, I'd end up on these tiny planes sometimes and always thought it would be fun.”

“I could maybe show you a few things,” Tommy says, resting his elbows on the table. “My rates are pretty competitive.”

Buck’s reply is cut off by Chimney plopping down next to him.

“Heard a girl talking about you,” Chimney says, nudging Buck and nodding back toward the bar.

He glances but doesn’t really see anyone specifically looking at him. He figures she’ll find him if she’s really interested. His focus goes back to Tommy, who is sliding a coaster around under his finger and smiling to himself a bit, but he doesn’t look all that happy. Instead, he’s just sort of…resigned.

“How competitive?” Buck asks, and Tommy blinks at him.

Tommy looks between Chimney, Buck, and something behind Buck before his eyes settle back on him. “We can figure something out. Honestly, I don’t usually charge friends. Except Sal.”

“For what?” Chimney asks, frowning at his phone screen.

“Thought I might take up flying,” Buck says, shrugging.

Chimney snorts. “Yeah. That’ll last. This kid’s got more hobbies than anyone I’ve ever met. Dude, I think someone stole my credit card number again. Hold up, I gotta call my bank.”

He disappears again, and Buck looks over his shoulder to see Sal is talking to a pretty girl at the bar, and she glances at Buck. When she sees him looking, she smiles shyly before looking back at Sal. If she’s the girl Chimney was talking about, she is pretty cute.

“I don’t have a lot of hobbies,” Buck says, turning his attention back to Tommy. “Well, kind of. I have a lot of interests, I guess. Which, yeah, is kinda weird, but I like the idea of flying. So I would absolutely be down to learn, and I’d be happy to pay for the fuel or your time or whatever. It’s like learning a superpower.”

Tommy smiles and slides his phone over. “Go ahead and put your number in.”

Buck does, noticing that the contact name is already filled in as ‘Evan,’ and he doesn’t bother correcting that either.

By the time they all leave, Buck has Tommy’s number in his own phone and realizes he forgot to get the girl’s number.

–

Flying is so cool, but Buck thinks Tommy might be a maniac. He’ll do maneuvers that don’t feel like they should be physically possible, and then he laughs over the headset. It’s terrifying and amazing, and Buck is flushed and breathless by the time they land on the tarmac at Harbor Station.

“That was awesome!” he says. “Okay, yeah, I owe you a beer. A dozen beers.”

Tommy takes off the headset and smiles. “How about dinner?”

Buck smiles back, though he feels like he’s still trying to catch his breath. “Yeah, okay. I could do dinner.”

–

Micelli’s is nice, and they’ve apparently got good beer and good food. Buck finds out that Tommy’s half Italian on his mom’s side, which explains a lot about his looks. His nose is so regal from the side, and Buck’s found his eyes tracing its shape more than once. His mom was first generation, so Tommy was practically raised by a bunch of older Italian women and his grandfather until he was in high school.

“So when you say the food here is good, you know what you’re talking about,” Buck concludes, and Tommy nods. “Alright, I believe you.”

“What about your family?” Tommy asks, and Buck shrugs. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, they’re…fine,” Buck says, shrugging again. He still feels raw when he thinks about his parents. “They’re, uh, back in Pennsylvania. Except Maddie. I think we’re British? Just sort of, uh, WASP-y? But I don’t really know a lot about my family.”

Hell, he knew even less than he ever realized.

“I don’t know a lot about my dad’s family,” Tommy says, and it feels like he understands based on the way he says it. It loosens some of the anxiety that had been building in Buck’s chest. “Scottish, Irish? Something like that. But I never looked too hard. Italians, though, you’d be hard-pressed to find a family that doesn’t want every generation to know every story and legend and the name of every town everyone was ever born in.”

“Family recipes?”

Tommy snorts. “I have a box of them. I’ve been trying to transcribe them just in case something ever happens to them, but there’s so many.”

Buck shrugs. “I could help.”

“Yeah?” Tommy looks surprised at his offer.

“Yeah, I’m kinda good at that kind of stuff,” he admits. “Plus, hey, I wouldn’t say no to learning some new recipes. I feel like I’m finally really getting the hang of cooking. Maybe I can even teach Bobby a thing or two.”

They start talking about the 118, and Buck is surprised at just how different it used to be. From the sound of it, Tommy was really different. Sal, too. And then Tommy felt like he was able to get a new start at Harbor.

“I just didn’t want to die in a closet, you know?” he says, and Buck tries to parse what that could mean. “I wasn’t out at the 118. Everyone thought I was straight until, I don’t know, my last month there? I finally told them right after my transfer went through.”

Buck blinks, realizing he’d somehow totally missed that Tommy’s gay. He realizes his silence could be taken for discomfort and panics. “Th-that’s great! I’m glad you were able to do that. It’s hard. It’s a hard thing to go through.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees, smiling softly. “Well, it’s actually just…freeing. Once you get past actually saying the words.”

“That sounds amazing,” Buck says, sighing. It does. The idea of feeling free has always felt like something he’s been looking for. Being at the 118 is the closest thing he’s ever found to that, but he wonders if it feels the same.

Tommy hesitates and starts to say something, but then their server arrives to take their food orders. Buck forgets to ask him what he was going to say, because he starts second-guessing what he was going to order and leans across to ask Tommy about one of the dishes. When Tommy leans in to look at where Buck’s pointing on the menu, his forearm presses against Buck’s and radiates heat the same way his hand did when they met, the same way his whole body did when he'd hugged Buck after their flight and when they met outside the restaurant. He wonders if it's a natural thing for him or if it's his muscle mass that does it.

“So you do like mushrooms?” Tommy asks, and Buck nods. “Yeah, you'll love that, then. But save room for dessert.”

“Okay,” Buck says, unable to keep himself from ducking his head and smiling as Tommy confirms with the server that Buck is getting whatever the hell it was Tommy had pointed to. He hadn't been paying attention.

–

He loves Tommy’s house. It’s got books and movies and records crammed into every available shelf in the living room, and there are cool old tiles in the kitchen and bathrooms that Tommy’s never going to touch even when he updates the rooms.

“Kitchen’s next, but I did a lot of the hard work with the electrical and plumbing already,” Tommy explains. He goes to a cabinet above his fridge and reaches in for an old cigar box. When he stretches for it, his shirt rides up and Buck blinks at the strip of skin that’s exposed. He suddenly feels guilty for staring and forces himself to look at the view of Tommy’s backyard from the window above the sink. “Here they are.”

Tommy sets the box on the counter and flips it open. Inside are old recipe cards, torn out recipes from magazines and ads, swooping writing on yellowed paper, and what looks to be more than one recipe torn out of cookbooks.

They’re killing time before a movie that’s playing at the theater by Tommy’s place, but Buck wants to dive into the recipes and figure out what it was that his family liked or what was important to them, what they held onto across generations, and which ones made little Tommy love desserts so much.

“Can you tell who wrote them?” he asks, carefully turning over a recipe card for some kind of soup made with lentils and sausage.

“Some of them,” Tommy says, leaning over and looking at the card he’s holding. “That was Prozia Camilla, I think. She always wrote her Bs really weird.”

“What’s that?” Buck asks, looking over at Tommy. He realizes he’s close, but it’s not making him uncomfortable. He feels a little warm, but it’s not from discomfort or embarrassment. The heat might be on in the house, or it's just Tommy being a human space heater. “Aunt?”

“Great-aunt,” Tommy clarifies. “Aunt is zia, uncle is zio—pretty easy. Nonna, Nonno–grandma, grandpa. Cugina, cugino–cousin, female or male. You add pro for great-aunts and -uncles, bis for great-grandparents. There’s one that’s in a baggy from Bisnonna Valia, I think she wrote it down when Mussolini was in power.”

Buck carefully picks through the box until he finds it, and he doesn’t take it out. He does inspect it, though. The paper is translucent and faded, the ink a brown-ish color. “What’s it for?”

“Canestrelli. It’s kind of like a shortbread cookie.”

He likes how Tommy says the words in Italian, the way his mouth shapes the vowels and kind of rolls the Rs but not really, the syllables he emphasizes a little differently than the way Buck probably would if he read the word from a page. He’d asked Tommy if he spoke Italian, and he sort of did. He mostly just understood it, but he sounded like he knew it whenever he said any of the words.

“These are amazing,” Buck says softly, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the paper inside its protective plastic. “Is it weird that I wish I knew them? All the people who wrote these down.”

When he glances at Tommy, Tommy’s looking at him and not at the recipe anymore. “No,” Tommy replies softly. “I don’t think that’s weird at all. They would’ve loved you.”

Buck grins. “Really?”

“Definitely.”

He flushes happily at the thought, even if Tommy’s just being nice. When he sets the recipe back in the box, the alarm on Tommy’s phone goes off.

“I kind of want to just look at these,” Buck admits. “But you said the movie’s really good.”

“Evan, it’s Casablanca,” Tommy says dryly. “It’s literally one of the greatest movies ever made.”

“Well, then I guess we have to go,” Buck teases, closing the box and handing it over to him.

When Tommy puts the box back, Buck’s eyes dip to his ass this time. It’s really a work of art. He wonders what kind of squats he does.

–

Buck’s a mess.

“You didn’t tell me it would be sad,” he moans as he snacks on the last of his popcorn on the way to Tommy’s truck. He’d driven, because it was easier than trying to find parking for two cars near the theater.

“A lot of the best romance movies are,” Tommy says. “But I don’t think it’s that sad. He loves her, and he knows she’s going to be happy. It’s not like Ghost or Moulin Rouge or Brokeback Mountain or anything.”

“I’ve never seen those,” Buck admits. “How can it get any sadder?”

“I mean, one of them could’ve died.”

Buck sighs. “Yeah, I guess. But—can you imagine finding the person who makes you feel like that and having to watch them walk away with someone else? People don’t realize how awful it feels to just be left behind.”

He realizes he’s projecting a lot onto a movie that’s eighty years old, but it does suck. Buck would know.

“Sometimes you just want to be the one people will stick around for,” he mumbles.

Tommy bumps their shoulders together gently as they walk. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Buck smiles and bumps his shoulder back. “You say that now.”

“I can’t imagine wanting to leave you behind if I could help it, Evan.”

The way he says it makes Buck’s heart thud in his chest, and for a moment he’s worried about another blood clot. He looks over at Tommy, who’s looking at him, and he smiles.

“Thanks,” he says softly.

Tommy puts an arm around his shoulder and squeezes him close for a moment before they get to the truck. Buck gets into the passenger seat and considers the few kernels of popcorn left. He wonders what Tommy’s favorite happy romance movie is and what it’s like, what he likes about it and the characters, if he identifies more with one than the other.

“So that’s the best romance movie?” he asks instead.

“I mean, that’s subjective, right?” Tommy says, turning on the truck and pulling away from the curb. “I think it’s pretty close to being the most objectively perfect one, yeah.”

“Is it your favorite?”

Tommy considers the question for a moment. “It's up there. It changes, honestly. I really like Love, Actually, but Princess Bride and Moonstruck are amazing, too. Casablanca is pretty perfect, though.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Buck says, smiling. “I did like it. It just, y’know, made me a little sad. Also, I didn’t realize that whole ‘Here’s looking at you, kid’ thing was a reference. I’ve heard so many people say that and thought it was some idiom I never learned.”

Tommy snorts and shakes his head. “I swear, I will expand your knowledge of movies.”

Buck normally doesn’t really care. He doesn’t have the same attachment to movies that a lot of his friends have, but he likes Tommy showing him things. The flying, the restaurant, the recipe box, the movie—maybe Muay Thai? He knows Eddie does it. Buck’s never really had an interest in it, but Tommy had offered to teach him and Buck had twirled his pasta around his fork and said he’d be interested because nothing sounded cooler. Now that he’s seen the set-up in Tommy’s garage, it would be kind of awesome to have one-on-one lessons and then go inside to make old family recipes.

He looks over at Tommy as he drives, and he notes that Tommy seems as at ease behind a wheel as he is doing anything else. He had also seen the car lift in Tommy’s garage, currently empty but awaiting a Chevelle he’d had his eye on that needed work, and he wonders if he’s always liked cars.

As he watches, he also realizes that Tommy’s side profile is pretty perfect. It’s not just the nose, it’s his entire face. Tommy’s a really handsome guy.

“Evan?” Tommy asks, sounding amused.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Buck slides down in his seat a little, feeling caught out for some reason. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Tommy slows to a stop at the light and looks over at Buck. He smiles and squeezes Buck’s wrist briefly, his huge hand almost engulfing it. He doesn’t understand how someone his height can be so big. With his free hand, he reaches over and picks up Tommy’s hand, manipulating the digits until they’re flat, and he presses their hands together to compare the size. Buck’s never met someone with bigger hands than his who wasn’t at least six and a half feet tall, but Tommy’s fingers stretch a little further, his palm is a little broader.

Then Tommy turns his palm just a little and curls his fingers until they’re between Buck’s, and Buck curls his fingers, too. He smiles and looks up at Tommy, who’s looking at him intently. It makes Buck’s heart pound again.

A car honks, and Tommy startles a little. He laughs to himself as he continues driving toward his house, both hands back on the wheel, and Buck feels his hand close around nothing, feeling empty.

–

Tommy is walking him to his car, even though it’s parked right in front of his house. They’re talking about the next series of movies the theater is showing—old noir stuff, some of which Tommy’s never even seen.

“That could be cool,” Buck says, putting his hands in his jacket pocket so he won’t reach for Tommy’s hand again. It would be weird. “We can see when our shifts line up.”

“They do them all in two month blocks,” Tommy explains wryly. “So that’s going to be a lot of calendar checking.”

“We can always share them to each other,” Buck points out. “Figure out other days we can do stuff.”

Tommy’s eyes look between Buck’s, down to his chin, and back at his eyes again. “Like what?”

Buck smiles and shrugs. “Anything. I mean, we’re kind of the perfect bar trivia partners. We can go around town and hustle all of them out of their gift cards and small cash prizes. But I really do want to help you with the recipe thing. You really think your family would’ve liked me?”

“Evan, do you have any idea how likeable you are?” Tommy asks, leaning his shoulder against Buck’s door.

“Hey, you’re pretty likeable yourself,” Buck says shyly. “You’re kind of the coolest person I’ve ever—”

He doesn’t get to finish, because there are two fingers under his chin and a pair of lips on his. For a moment, he freezes, because Tommy is kissing him. That should be weird. He’s never had a male friend kiss him on the lips unless it was during Spin the Bottle or under mistletoe, and those were always pecks or done with some reluctance on their part. But he can feel Tommy start to pull away and wants anything but that, so he brings his hand up to Tommy’s shoulder and keeps him there while Buck kisses back.

Tommy’s lips are soft, though his stubble is a little scratchy, but Buck doesn’t mind it. He really doesn’t mind it.

“Was that okay?” Tommy whispers when he does finally pull back.

Buck nods and his eyes drop to Tommy’s lips, which don’t look any different than they did a minute ago, but now he knows how they feel against his. He still has a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and brings his other one up to cup his jaw to keep him still when Buck goes in for another kiss.

It feels better than okay. It feels like a real first—well, second now—kiss. He feels like an alarm bell should be going off somewhere in his head, but all he’s getting is a need to feel more of him, to taste more of him.

They’re kind of making out against Buck’s Jeep, and Buck is definitely going to need to talk to Hen about this. If he likes kissing a guy just as much as he’s liked kissing a girl—hell, more than he’s liked kissing some girls—what does that mean?

Tommy pulls away again and presses their foreheads together. They’re both breathing hard, and Buck wonders if Tommy will ask him to come inside.

“I meant to take this a lot slower,” Tommy says. “You seemed…new. I know Howie doesn’t know, but does anyone?”

Buck wonders if he’d missed something in their conversation. “Know what?”

“That you’re—” he gestures between them. Then he pulls back more and searches Buck’s face. “You are, aren’t you?”

“What?” he asks again, feeling very slow. He doesn’t love the feeling, but he's also still really stuck on the feeling of Tommy's lips.

“Wait, are you?”

“Oh, my god, Tommy, am I what?” he asks, laughing.

“Into guys?”

Buck blinks. “I don’t—I’ve never really thought about it?”

Except for that one time in Texas, but he knew that he came off as flirty sometimes when he didn’t mean to. That hadn’t been TK’s fault. Hell, TK was gorgeous and a really good firefighter, and—oh.

“Oh,” Buck says, raising his eyebrows. “Huh.”

“Are you okay?” Tommy asks, searching Buck’s face for something. He’s not touching Buck anymore, which kind of sucks.

“Yeah.” He looks at Tommy and smiles. “Yeah, I’m great.”

He is. He really is. It’s a little bit of a shock, but he’s pretty sure he’ll be fine. Well, he might need to talk to Hen and Maddie and Bobby.

Then it hits him—Tommy walked him to his car. While the sun was up. In a good neighborhood. After the movies. He’d done the same thing after Micelli’s, after they’d flown, and he’d hugged Buck every time. It had felt good and warm and safe. But Tommy always walked him to his car.

“We were just on a date, weren’t we?” Buck says slowly, then counts. “Like, our third one. Wait, did you take me flying for our first date?”

“I thought I did,” Tommy says, his brows raised. “Did you really have no idea that I was asking you out?”

Okay, yeah, Tommy had said they should go out sometime before they’d left the bar the night they’d met, and Buck had agreed and Tommy had grinned. It had been really distracting.

“Huh,” he says again. “Wait, you waited until our third date to kiss me?”

“I thought you needed me to take it slow,” Tommy says, leaning his elbows on the hood and burying his face in his hands. “I thought you were new to this.”

“I mean, I am,” Buck points out. The way Tommy’s leaning makes his ass pop out a little, and his jeans are tight enough that they definitely qualify as date jeans. “Maybe not that new, actually. It’s normal to check out a hot guy’s ass, right?”

Tommy looks at him incredulously. “Evan, how would I know what straight guys do? I’m a Kinsey six.”

“Right,” Buck realizes, though he’s still not clear on the second part. “What’s a Kinsey six?”

“It’s a scale for sexuality. I’ve never actually been attracted to any women.”

Buck frowns. “Really?”

He’s found a lot of guys attractive, because that was just a thing Buck could see as a person with eyes. Hell, one of the first things he thought about Connor was that he had a killer smile. Then he had followed him to Los Angeles. From Peru.

“Oh,” he realizes, pulling out his phone and looking up ‘Kinsey.’ “Two? I don’t know, actually. I’ll have to think about it.”

Tommy huffs out a laugh. “You’re not, I don’t know, mad?”

Buck frowns and puts his phone back in his pocket. “Why would I be mad?”

“A lot of guys get mad when another guy kisses them if they weren’t really expecting it.”

“That doesn’t make sense. You can just tell someone you’re not interested.” His eyes flick down to Tommy’s mouth. “Or figure out that you are.”

“Are you sure—”

“You should come over so I can cook you dinner,” Buck says, suddenly wanting nothing more than to see Tommy in his loft and at his table. In his bed? Yeah, probably. “Saturday?”

Tommy smiles. “You mean tomorrow?”

Buck thinks about it. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

When Tommy kisses him again, Buck wraps his arm around his shoulders and spreads his hand over Tommy’s side. Tommy moans softly against his mouth, and Buck’s lips part further so he can tease his tongue against Tommy’s lips.

“Jesus, kid,” Tommy breathes when the kiss breaks, and it sends a bolt of heat through Buck’s belly. So, yeah, definitely guys. Guys are good. At least one is.

Buck’s phone goes off, and he reluctantly checks it. Maddie’s due pretty soon, so he can’t ignore his phone just in case it’s her.

It is, and Buck answers quickly.

“Maddie?” he says before mouthing an apology to Tommy. “Are you okay? Is the baby—”

“Buck,” she says. “Are you still coming over for dinner?”

Oh, right. The reason they’d done the matinee show for the movie. Buck’s supposed to be having a sibling dinner with his sister. He’s now late for it and feels like a dick.

“I am so sorry, I forgot. I’ll be there in twenty, twenty-five minutes? Do you need me to get anything on the way?”

“If you could get me enough garlic bread to fill your car, I’d be so happy.”

Buck snorts. “I can get some. Maybe not that much. But I’ll stop, just turn the oven on. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay!” she says brightly. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he says, hanging up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was, and I did actually forget. I got, uh, distracted.”

Tommy smirks. “‘Distracted’?”

Buck swallows and nods, his eyes going to Tommy’s lips again. “Yeah.”

“God, you’re adorable.”

He’s never had a guy call him that before. He likes it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tommy says. “When do you want me over?”

“S-six?” Buck says, feeling himself sway toward Tommy like they’ve got magnets in their mouths. “Five. You start early on Sunday, right?”

“So do you,” Tommy points out.

“Oh, yeah,” Buck says dumbly. He goes in for another kiss, but it’s quick. Tommy pushes him back gently with a hand to his chest and nudges their noses together briefly before stepping away. “Bye.”

“Bye, Evan,” Tommy says, smiling and going toward his house.

Buck fumbles with his keys before he finally unlocks the Jeep, and he watches Tommy until he goes inside. It’s a thing he’s always done on dates. When Tommy waves before heading inside, Buck waves for a long time until the door is closed.

“Fuck, okay, garlic bread,” he says, turning the Jeep on. He grins the entire way to the store.

While he walks through Ralph’s, he also looks for stuff to use for the dinner he’s going to make for Tommy. On their date. Their fourth date.

Buck knows he’s standing in the middle of the baking ingredients aisle and smiling at his phone like an idiot. He knows that he’s going to spend half of his Saturday trying to perfect some kind of dessert. He knows he can’t wait to see Tommy and that he’s felt that way every time he’s seen him since they met.

[finelinevogue]

request for harry since the hrought has gone far too long i fear. okay but have you seen the pap photos of dua lipa and callum turner at a restaurant or of them in paris and they look like they’re in a romcom? i just thought idea would be great 🫂

worth the wait

omg omg yes yes!!! thank you so much for sending this in eeekkk!!!

word count - 1.4k

pairing - harry styles x gf!reader

Is Harry Styles finally settling down with childhood friend Y/N L/N?

“What are you reading?”

Harry walked through the balcony doors and onto the small terrace where you were reading the morning newspaper.

The morning was beautiful.

You and Harry had woken up in the romantic city of Paris. Your hotel room was on a quaint Parisian street and was high up enough to see the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

The little balcony was only big enough to store a garden table and two chairs, along with a couple of decorative plant pots. It was the perfect place to have a slow morning with your boyfriend.

“The morning newspaper.” You said as you ate your way through a croissant. Your cappuccino was half drunk and your glass of orange juice nearly finished.

“The newspaper? They still make those?” Harry joked.

“Harry, love. You are so out of touch with the world.”

He carefully shoved your head away from him in retaliation for your teasing.

He smelt like coconut and something sweet after his shower. His hair was still a little damp on the top and his cheeks still rosy from the heat of the bathroom.

Harry took a pastry for himself and poured out his own coffee.

The hotel service was amazing here but the food was even better. Last night you’d gotten back late from having dinner out and you were both in the mood for ice-cream. So you ordered ice-cream and the next thing you knew there was a knock at the door with a porter delivering a build-your-own ice-cream sundae.

“So listen to this…”

Harry took a bite out of his pastry but looked at you to let you know he was listening.

“Harry Styles is finally settling down to childhood friend Y/N. After 10 years of being together will the city of love finally be where Styles pops the all-important question?” You read from the newspaper and showed him the pictures the paps had taken of you two from last night.

“Right.” Harry nodded.

You popped the newspaper onto the table and sat back against the chair with your cappuccino. You raised an eyebrow at Harry.

“So…?” You asked.

“So what?”

“The all-important question? You thinking about it?” You prompted.

“You know the answer to that.”

Yes, you did.

You and Harry constantly talked about the big future ‘what-if’s’. Would you get married? Are you having children? Where do you want to settle? All your late night talks consisted of these little questions that felt so big.

Getting married was of course one of them and it was something that you brought up more often now that you’d been together for a decade.

Neither of you had felt like you had to rush your relationship into the next stage until you were both ready. The timing had never been right with Harry’s ridiculously busy schedule, but now… Now you had all the time in the world and you wondered what might be next.

“Okay.”

That’s all you said and you both left it at that.

Which is why you had the shock of your life the next day.

<.><.><.>

“C’mon.” You laughed as you dragged Harry from the pavement and into the middle of the square.

The square was right beneath the Eiffel Tower, which was twinkling its lights every so often.

Loads of people had stopped to watch, clap along and even dance to this man that was playing the accordion. It was so very French.

Harry couldn’t say no to you of course.

You led him into the square and immediately started dancing with him. You stepped on his toes more times than you could count, and it was more of a swaying motion with some twirls rather than dancing.

It both made you laugh though.

You both kept smiling even when everyone banded together to form some formation and everyone started swapping dance partners. At one point Harry was dancing with an old man and you were dancing with a little girl.

Everyone cheered as the man finished playing.

It was late at night and the dancing had worn you out, but you still wanted a couple more moments to enjoy this happiness with Harry.

He led you to a set of steps that led down to a viewing platform for the Eiffel Tower. You sat near the top so you could see the twinkling lights of the city below. It was so beautiful.

The steps were wide enough for Harry to sit behind you on one, with you sitting between his legs against his chest. Harry’s arms draped over your shoulders to hold you close against him.

“That was so fun.” You were still laughing.

“I’m glad.” He kissed your cheek.

Harry hadn’t stopped smiling ever since you had started smiling, but that was usually the case.

“You feel inspired to make music like that?”

Harry laughed and you felt his body shake behind you, “I’ll never be half the musician that guy was.”

“Don’t be silly.” You pouter, turning to face him, “You’re the best musician I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re a little biased, my love. Hm?” He suggested.

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head in disagreement.

“You’re the best. End of.” You sealed your statement with a soft kiss to his lips, only quick because you and Harry were both super conscious about PDA. Not even just because of the paps, but more because you found overt displays of affection really cringe and awkward.

You turned back around to face the city.

Your hands went up to fiddle with Harry’s fingers. He had gotten into the style of taking off his rings recently, so his fingers were bare and bony.

“Y/N.”

“Mhm.”

“I have something to ask you.” Harry said, resting his chin on your shoulder so your cheeks were near each other. It was like he didn’t want anyone else catching wind of this conversation so he had to be as close as possible.

“Yeah? Oh, actually, if it’s anything to do with what to get me for Valentine’s day then no need. I’ve already added it to our Amazon basket, you just need to click buy.” You explained.

If Harry didn’t feel ready before then that comment of yours certainly sealed the deal.

“Will you marry me?”

Your head instantly shot around to face him, nearly taking him out in the process. Harry laughed when he saw the excitement on your face.

You just looked at him and locked eyes with his.

You wanted one final moment to look at him as you boyfriend before everything changed for the better.

Harry smiled at you apprehensively.

The city lights were reflecting in his eyes as he waited for your answer. He already knew - or at least hoped he knew - your answer, but hearing you say it was going to be even better.

You nodded your head softly before answering.

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat, “Yes! Yes! Of course. Yes I’ll marry you.”

You threw your arms around his neck in the twisted position you were sitting in. Harry chuckled against you as his whole body inflated with excitement and adoration over you saying yes. It was one thing to hear you talk about it hypothetically, but hearing it in the real moment was everything.

Your face buried into his neck and you left some kisses there, because you didn’t want to properly kiss him in the middle of Paris.

You untucked yourself after a minute or two.

“You finally asked.”

“Nearly ruined it yesterday morning when you were reading that ruddy newspaper.” Harry joked and you laughed in remembrance. You’d almost forgotten about that already, but now it would be part of the story.

“Did you always plan to ask me here?”

“Well you said you hated the dramatic proposals but you also didn’t want it to be just a passing comment. I thought Paris mixed with a quiet conversation would be kind of perfect?”

“It was. I mean it still is!”

“I love you. Thank you for being patient with me and waiting for me to ask.”

You’d had that conversation before as well. Harry was anxious that you’d grow tired of waiting for him and move on with someone else, but you would never. Could never. Your heart was always going to belong to his.

“You’ll always be worth the wait.”

“Likewise.”

You settled back into him, tucked against his body as you marvelled at the moment.

“We’re engaged.” You whispered, slightly in shock.

“I have a ring back at the hotel. Want to go get it?”

“No. Just a couple more minutes like this.”

Harry completely understood what you meant.

Both of your lives had been constant and rushed ever since the day you’d met, so when moments like this came along you both had learnt to appreciate to live in them a little longer. So you did.

[car-o-line]

HII wondering if you could do Matthew hallard as readers best friend when they were both in the orphanage?1?1?1 you could add anything else 😼 im not forcing ANYWAY HAVE A GOOD DAYAYAY

I literally SCREAMED I’m so excited to do a ppt request because chapter 4 was amazing, and because of my ppt brainrot I’ll do Kevin/Jack as well! AND I HOPE UR DAY IS JUST AS AMAZING AS THIS REQUEST🧡❤️💛

Being friends with Matthew/Kevin/Jack(before/after Doey)

Matthew Hallard:

Probably the nicest teenager anyone’s ever met tbh.

Whether you’re younger than him or around the same age as him he’ll treat you like his little sibling. There’s no stopping it.

Always puts your needs above his and he won’t compromise that at all.

Oh you’re thirsty? He suddenly has an apple juice box in his hand! Hungry? Well now he suddenly has a bag of chips in his backpack!

(They were supposed to be for him but shh)

Makes sure all your homework’s done, if not then he’ll scold you for it.

But then he’ll feel bad and help you do it.

If you were around his age you'd probably know about his parent’s accidents he couldn’t prevent.

If you were younger he’d save that topic for when you were older, if only he had time left.

He’d be worried sick when you were taken away because you were “sick”.

Once you came back you seemed hazy, it made him nervous so he held your hand just to let you know that he was there, until you were officially “adopted.”

Later he really found out through his own “sickness” what “adoption” meant.

He hates what the scientists did to you, did to him. It gives him a reason to keep going as Doey.

Kevin Barnes:

How??

Like actually how.

Kevin doesn’t know why he considers you his friend ngl.

The scientists were definitely interested in how you and Kevin got along without you running away from him.

They couldn’t care less about the friendship part but they want to know how it started.

It was easy actually, he randomly tackled you to the ground even though you’ve both never talked before.

You didn’t cry, or scream, instead you reacted like it was a game. Which it was, kind of.

Kevin won in the end because of his physical ability but you thought it was really fun!

So now every time he gets bored he tries to find you and tackle you again.

Other than that he cares for you in his own way.

Like when the scientist took you away because of your sickness?

He wouldn’t let go of your arm no matter how hard the scientists tried to pull.

And the more they did that the more times he’d yell at them that you were fine and didn’t need them.

But they got you when he was sleeping, and when he woke up a new toy appeared in the Playtime Facility.

He never saw you again, even after he was “adopted.”

Jack Ayers:

While he wasn’t an orphan he did go on a visit to the Playtime Factory.

He met you through there, he was really excited to make a new friend.

He asked you so many questions about the orphanage and the facility.

In exchange you got to ask him about his home life and how the outside was.

“You haven’t been outside?”

“This area is considered the outside silly!”

“Really..?”

He felt bad for you and suggested that his parents adopted you!

(they said no)

Instead you just took him to see “Home Sweet Home” and showed him your room.

Then Jacks trip to facility was over and he had to leave, but before that his family was watch the process of making Doey.

Jack leaned over the railings to have a closer look but fell into one of vat machines that were making dough.

But the last glimpse of his consciousness he saw a what looked to be a kid with h/c walking with a scientist to one of the offices.