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#anyways i'm gonna get up now it's a reasonable time for me to be awake now afslkjadjklfkjlakfldsaf
patsothercorner · 2 days
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Try Again
TW: mature themes. do not read if you can't handle it. based on true real events.
I was 3. During an eye appointment, when I said I couldn't see the letters on the giant glowing screen. The doctor looked at me.
Try again.
I was 4. The dresser had fallen, me taking the brunt of it. I'm trapped, under the bed, where I attempted to seek shelter. I'm stuck. I can't get out.
Try again.
I was 6. After an hour of attempting to tie my shoe, my father glared at me.
Try again.
I was 8. Tears in my eyes as I get tackled to the concrete by a middle schooler. I told him I couldn't get up. He looked at me, outstretching his hand for me to take.
Try again.
I was 9. I walk down the stairs, and watch as my father presses his knee into my mother's neck. I listen to my mom call his mom. Saying she's gonna leave next time, but that for now, she'll do what she's been doing.
Try again.
I was 10. My father showed me how to mow the lawn. I miss the line, again and again. My dad rolls his eyes.
Try again.
I was 11. Locked in my home, while people outside suffered. The virus taking over every source of entertainment I had access too. I ask my sister to play a game. She says no.
Try again.
I was 11. I sit in my room and stare at the walls. Walls that were once clear, now have marks of my agony and suffering. I pick up the blade and swipe it across my skin. Nothing happens.
Try again.
I was 12. It's late. Maybe 3am. I open the medicine and scan for the ones I'd think would do the most damage. I take 4. Nothing happens.
Try again.
I was 12. Tears fall down my face as I stare at the pills once more, this time, they've multiplied. 16. I take them all. Something happens. I start to think. About my life. About all the things I have to live for. It isn't much. Still, I stick my fingers down my throat, and gag. Nothing happens.
Try again.
I was 12. Third time wasn't the charm. Neither was the fourth. Or the fifth. Maybe it's not my time. I think that's what my mom thinks when she looks at my arms. She asks if I want help. I look at her.
Try again.
I was 13. The blade was buried under dust, left untouched. Tears fall down my face as my therapist tells me that my father has good reason to beat me. She tells me kids have the tendency to be dramatic. I look at my shelf, where my worst enemy had found home.
I was 13. I stare at my sister as my father threatened to shoot my cousin. I watch as the boy who made our life hell for two years, sits there, and faces the man I've faced many times before. He's scared. He picks up his shoes and leaves. I don't miss the way my father smiles at me. Saying the same words.
Try again.
I was 13. The music volume isn't enough. They're yelling again. Fighting. You'd think they'd be tired of it, the arguing. But everytime, it's the same thing.
Try again.
I was 14. Getting home from a fun day at the fair with friends. The house is quiet, the silence as stark contrast from my pretty cousins running around. Young, one still a toddler, one starting 5th grade. My sister and I sit on the bed as my father stands in front of us. They're divorcing. They'll figure out the details later, but for the night, he's leaving. He does. My mom sits us down on the couch. He'd choked her. The kids were awake. Nobody knows what they'd heard. She wasn't going to assume they'd heard nothing. She'd ask when they were awake. Until then, we do what we keep doing.
Try again.
I was 14. We hadn't moved out yet. School had started. I wasn't enrolled. They hadn't accepted me. My mom suggests we move to the same district.
Try again.
I was 14. We'd moved out. I'm a week behind. I don't know anyone. Making friends is hard.
Try again.
I was 14. I made a couple friends. They're not great. It's okay. Better than being alone. I look at the walls of my bedroom. White. I can't bring myself to put anything on them. They're better white anyway. I've looked through the boxes. I've found the blade.
Try again.
I was 14. My mom stared at my arms once more. Not as bad as last time. An isolated incident. She asks if I want help.
Try again.
I was 14. New lady. She's nice. I like her.
Try again.
I was 15. I sit in my room, staring at the white walls, bottle in hand. I hadn't opened it. I stopped this problem a while ago. I look at the bottle. I open it. What's the harm?
Try again.
I was 15. I don't know how much I'd drank, maybe a shot or two. I open the medicine cabinet. Do I do it?
Try again.
I was 15. Tears fall as I listen to my dad's voice through the phone, muffled by my mom's ear. She's not crying, but I can tell she wants to.
Try again.
I was 15. They're going to therapy. We're going out to dinners again. He's coming over again. We're going over again. They're getting back together.
Try again.
I was 15. I'd tried again. A couple times. Every time, it'd failed. So I gave up. Maybe living is for me. Maybe I should be like my mom.
Try again.
I was 15. Living's not so bad. It's hard. But maybe it gets better. Maybe it's worth it. Maybe, instead of giving up, I should do what everyone else is doing.
Maybe I should try again.
Maybe trying again is hard, sure, especially when that's all I've been doing. But I guess when you do something long enough, you start to get the hang of it.
It's easy to say it. Try again. But doing... one of the hardest things we'll ever do as humans. I'm only 15. I shouldn't know the things I know. I shouldn't have gone through what I have.
I'm more mature than my sister, even though she's older. I've shielded her. She doesn't deserve to think the way I do, to realize the things I do. She doesn't like that I've done that. But it's hard to just stop when I've been doing it for years.
I've tried again. I haven't picked up the blade in months.
I'm trying again.
I stopped drinking. Addiction runs in my family.
I'm trying again.
I still talk to my therapist. She's helped a lot.
I'm trying again.
I've made great friends. Real friends.
Trying again.
I haven't tried to stop trying in almost 6 months. Fighting for me.
It's okay to fall. It's okay to struggle. It's okay to be sad. It's okay to cry. It's okay to not be okay.
It's not okay to not try again.
From me to you, do whatever you want. I can't make these decisions for you. But I can tell you this.
Try. Again.
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pandora15 · 1 year
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okay I didn't sleep very well which means that this is the perfect time for me to write a very obnoxiously long post about my very complicated feelings about ahsoka (both the show and the character).
there will be vague spoilers for what we've seen for the show so far (as of this writing, the first three episodes).
okay
also this will definitely be ramble-y and probably a bit controversial? idk man it's the star wars fandom, I'm sure to piss someone off regardless of what I say here, and I don't really care.
anyways
I'm gonna start with a simple statement.
I don't like the idea of one Jedi being better than another.
Clarification: Obi-Wan is by and large my favorite character of all time. He is my favorite Jedi. However, in my eyes, that does not make him better than all the other Jedi. That does not make him a better Jedi than all the others that we've seen in canon, just because I (or a lot of us in this specific fandom circle) like him.
make sense?
okay cool.
In a similar sense, Ahsoka is not better than all the other Jedi, including all the ones who taught her and helped shape her to who she ultimately becomes. Don't get me wrong, she is an incredible character who has gone through so much and has survived it all. And I take comfort in her character nearly as much as I take comfort in Obi-Wan's.
The way the show is going so far seems to imply that the approach that she's taking with Sabine by training her at all, when Huyang has said multiple times that the Jedi of old (ie. up until the end of the Clone Wars) would not have trained her, is absolutely the right and wonderful thing to do. So the fact that Ahsoka has previously taken this chance on Sabine and is doing so again seems to imply (to me, at least) that she is better than all the Jedi who came before her, since all of them would not have done such a thing.
The whole Sabine being practically Force-null thing but still trying to be a Jedi is a whole other conversation for another post, but…a part of me is intrigued by the idea, I guess? But I still feel like it steps back on her characterization in Rebels, and I am worried about the direction they're ultimately going to take with her.
Add this to the fact that the show demonstrates that Ahsoka has complicated feelings about the Jedi Order and being a Jedi. The fact that she calls Sabine her Padawan (a Jedi term afaik) eases my concerns slightly, maybe? I don't think it's clear quite yet how she feels about the whole thing.
But all of this stems from what happened to her during the Wrong Jedi arc.
And in the lead-up to this show, I rewatched that arc. On this rewatch, I felt a lot of sympathy for what Ahsoka goes through. She's on her own for most of the time that she's on the run, and obviously I can't say what would have happened if she'd chosen not to run away and investigate to the extent that she did, but it does seem to pile up even more evidence against her — but it also gave Anakin the stepping stones that he needed to figure out it was Barriss and Barriss the opportunity to sort of expose herself as the culprit. Like if Ahsoka hadn't run away to the lower levels to try to figure it out, would she have been better off?
We don't know. I'm not gonna make assumptions.
As for the Order and the Council, I'm going to say about that arc what I've said before: they were placed in an impossible situation. The war has drained them of the trust the public had once had in them, their dependence on the Senate made it so that they couldn't go against them.
Ahsoka says in the arc that she believes that no one in the Order fought for her, besides maybe Anakin. Yet we literally see Obi-Wan tell the Council that they can't expel her, we see the Council invite her back after her name is cleared because they still see her as one of them. A Jedi.
And yes, maybe they could have done something differently to change things. Maybe they could have taken a stand with Ahsoka against Tarkin and all the other Senators who called for Ahsoka's expulsion/trial. Maybe they could have refused to expel her to prevent all of that from happening.
But I can't imagine that things would have gone well for them or for Ahsoka if they'd done that.
Needless to say, Ahsoka could have done things differently to lead to a better outcome, and the Council could have, as well — but we don't actually know if it would have worked.
Putting all of that aside though, the way Ahsoka's character is approached after the Wrong Jedi arc aired is changed drastically, compared to how it was approached before that arc. Which makes sense, since she walks away from the life she knows and has to figure things out and all that. I know it must have been really tough for her, walking away.
Ahsoka's arc in Rebels is beautiful. I love it. The way she contends with the knowledge that Vader is Anakin, ultimately leading up to her duel with him and her sacrificing herself so that Ezra and Kanan can get away? It's so heart-wrenching to me, even now. Learning that Ezra ultimately saves her with the WBW made me so happy because she is such an important character to me, and to see her ultimately die at Vader's hand would have been completely heartbreaking.
And to see her again the Rebels epilogue, with the implication that she survives the events of the OT, was one of the most glorious endings I've seen in Star Wars. Just thinking about it makes me smile.
But after this is where the cracks begin to form for me.
We go back to Season 7 of TCW. I found the Martez sisters arc pretty fun, having rewatched it recently. However, there is this plot point of Ahsoka seeing that the Jedi are not doing anything for the people of Coruscant, since they're. you know. busy fighting a galaxy wide war and all that. (Also like the welfare of Coruscant's people is not strictly the Jedi's responsibility like assuming Coruscant has a Senator or maybe even the Chancellor would also have some level of responsibility, yeah? but people love to blame the Jedi for their problems, in and out of universe).
Anyways, the arc indicates that the Jedi are in the wrong, even though, once again, they're in this impossible situation for one thing, and they're also being "blamed" for things that aren't even their fault? And Ahsoka is like the only person who can see that so now it makes her better than all of them?
We see that play out a bit at the beginning of the Siege of Mandalore arc (which is still incredibly painful to me, thanks). We see Bo-Katan take shots at Obi-Wan for literally just saying that he has to speak to the Council about her request (I could be remembering wrong, I'm trying to double check this but youtube is literally refusing to load right now), and Ahsoka just stands there and lets it happen because "wow why are they not helping us how dare they be busy with a war omg after everything they've done to me"
And to be fair to ahsoka, it hasn't been that long since TWJ and it's totally valid for her to still be upset about it! I guess it's just painful to see especially for me because I've always loved Obi-Wan and Ahsoka's dynamic and it was just. yeah.
And yeah, Ahsoka decides to do the same to Obi-Wan later on when he says they have to go to Coruscant because their people are in danger, and Ahsoka's upset that they're not prioritizing Mandalore's people over Coruscant. Which like. Coruscant's people literally includes the two sisters you became friends with last week Ahsoka what do you mean —
anyways
in those opening moments of the siege of mandalore, it's clear that she still has a lot of emotions over what happened, and Obi-Wan takes the brunt of that. let's also not forget that she doesn't seem to want to talk to Anakin until later on, yeah?
and the way it's framed in the show, they really make it seem like ahsoka's in the right for treating Anakin and Obi-Wan like this. Like they deserve it for doing something differently than her.
When Mace Windu calls her a citizen when she LITERALLY called herself that first, people say he deserves to die? like what the fuck? it's not that serious y'all.
It's like Ahsoka has suddenly become the perfect character who can do nothing wrong ever and any time another character tries to go against that, it's implied that she's in the right and she's better than them all, actually. it's canon because dave filoni says it is.
skipping over the mando and tbobf episodes mostly because I don't have much to say about those episodes as it relates to this topic, this brings us back to the ahsoka show today.
I think it's a beautiful show with incredible music. like I'm obsessed with the end credits music. the premise is extremely interesting. I do think it should have been animated, even though the actors have worked extremely hard to get the characters down and I've literally seen how excited and passionate they are about the project while watching their interviews in-person at star wars celebration, I don't think it would ever feel the same as having the original voice actors back for all the characters.
that being said, I'm enjoying the show so far, but I am concerned. I'm worried about what the show is going to communicate about the Jedi Order and that it's going to continue to imply that Ahsoka is better and knows better than all the Jedi who brought her to where she is now.
I hope that the show is able to communicate that Ahsoka wants to be respectful of those Jedi, instead, and that they paint the concept of being a Jedi in a more positive light, instead of continuing to imply all this negativity.
I love the Jedi, and I just wish we got to see more of them in a positive light in canon.
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robotpussy · 1 year
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everytime i think abt going bald i think abt all the wigs i want to wear then i end up just. wearing scarves because I'm lazy. i need 2 get into glueless wigs
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anastacialy · 2 months
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its really hard for me to tell myself my anxiety is irrational latey
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nochepsicodelica · 1 month
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"All those drinks are gonna do you dirty, ma. You're gonna throw up if you don't get some food in your system, so eat," Toji says, pushing the box closer to you.
You giggle at his serious face, before standing up from your chair for the fourth time, trying to go around him. Toji's used to this by now and stands up, bringing you back down to your chair.
"Stop getting up and eat your food. You literally begged for this. Why aren't you eating it?"
"Why aren't you eating it?" You return, raising your brows at him, seductively. It doesn't come off too sexy when raising your eyebrows makes you immediately squint because of the light going into your sensitive eyes, but it does lure a chuckle out of Toji.
"I'm ignoring that. Just eat. I don't wanna hear you upchucking in a couple hours."
"You won't hold my hair back?" You pout. Your feigned little flash of sadness produces real tears in this state, so it's a little confusing for Toji when you start giggling while wiping at your reddened cheeks.
"Your food's getting cold. I know how you are about reheating fast food, so eat it before it goes to waste."
You smile at him, your eyelids almost completely shut in your drunken daze. Toji can't even lie, it's cute. It's the only reason he's not up the wall about this little situation. Then you decide to drop a bomb on him.
"I'm not hungry anymore. Too tired to eat." You rest your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes. It feels nice. It would take less than thirty seconds for you to fall asleep.
Fuck. Think, think, think...
"Hey." Toji pokes your forehead, lightly, earning a hum and a furrow of your brows. "What if I feed you?"
You laugh, giddily. "Ooo, you trying to romance me?"
"Sure, if you eat."
You laugh again. "Toji, you dog, you. I'm not putting out." You shake your head, eyes closed with a dumb grin on your face. "No, sir. It's food and then goodnight for me."
"You already put out for me, earlier, doll." He smirks at the way you blush, clearly having an 'oh, yeah...' moment. "Eat some more so we can go to sleep."
"Hm?" You hum, rolling your eyes open after your blink of sleep. You crack a grin as soon as you look at Toji. "You wanna kiss me sooo bad. Look at you."
"I'm not gonna kiss you. You're not listening. You think you deserve kisses for that?"
"Uh... yes? I mean no. Pshhh, nooo. Of course, not."
"That's right. So eat, or you'll go to sleep without kisses, tonight."
"Noooo," you whine, dramatically. "Wait! Fine, fine. Look." You take a huge bite of your sandwich, your cheeks puffing up as you chew. "Oh, this is really good," you say, muffled by your mouthful of food.
"Don't choke, doll. Small bites are fine," he says, picking up a napkin and wiping the excess condiments off your face.
You push through it and gulp down the bite. "That was a lot. Got bread stuck on the roof of my mouth." You take a sip of your drink to wash it all down. "Did I look so pretty for the party, today?" You ask, your lips curling as you put the cup back down.
"You did, mama. Stunning. Swept everyone there, off their feet."
You smile, the gesture transitioning into a giggle. "Even Shiu?"
"Yup. Even Shiu said he wanted a piece of you."
You gasp. "No... Did you fight him?"
"Nah, I wanted to, but I kept my cool. If he had put his hands on you, then I might have, but I had my eye on you all night, to make sure nobody did more than look at you."
"I wouldn't have followed him anywhere, anyway." You roll your eyes, suddenly so hostile against the host of the party. "Probably would've kicked him in the nuts and gone to find you."
"Yeah, that's a smart idea, doll."
Toji's elaborate answers to your questions kept you awake long enough for you to mindlessly eat while he talked. You were at the end of the sandwich when you realized how much you had eaten and how full you were.
"Can't... do it..." You groan, lying on the arm you have extended on the table. "Too full." You sigh, heavily, setting the rest of the sandwich down on the scattered fries in its box.
"That's good, ma. You don't have to eat it, anymore. We can go to bed, now."
You let out another heavy sigh, sluggishness washing over you before you force yourself to stand up from your chair, this time with Toji's 'okay'. He looks at your little belly as it protrudes from your dress, proof of how full you actually are, and pokes at it. Your usually soft tummy is temporarily stiff and it's adorable.
You grab Toji's hand so that you don't stumble as you walk. Before leaving the table, he finished the remainder of your sandwich in one bite and threw out the container with the remaining cold fries.
"Damn, you were right, baby. That was good."
"Mhm," you mumble, waiting for him to lead you to the room.
Toji helped you brush your teeth and wash your face, and when you finally made it to the room, he helped you dress down into comfier clothes. Now, you're in bed together and you're in his arms trying to doze off, but you can't with the way he's smothering your face with kisses. It's just kiss after kiss with him and you can't focus, but It is what you wanted. After all, you stuffed your face for this.
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steddieonbigboy · 6 months
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Sleepwalkin'
written for @steddiemicrofic april prompt ‘fool’ wc: 454 | rated: T | cw: implied sexual content | read on ao3
🛌🛌🛌
Eddie stirs at the sound of shuffling footsteps and gets jolted awake as Steve drops face-first onto the bed.
"Mhmph. Where've you been?"
"Sleepwalkin'."
"Do anything fun?"
"I got into bed with Wayne." He mumbles into the pillow.
"Wait. What?!" Eddie sits up with a crazed grin, suddenly wide awake, "Steve, sweetheart, that's fucking hilarious."
"Yeah, Wayne thought so too," He rolls onto his side to face Eddie," I, on the other hand, am slightly mortified."
"Baby, I'm sorry but that is actually so funny. What did he say when he woke you up?"
"That's the thing! He didn't! So I obviously woke him up when I, y'know crawled into his bed and cuddled up to him-"
"You cuddled him?! Stevie, be careful, that's the most action he's gotten in years, he's gonna fall in love with you!"
"Fuck off," He reaches across to slap Eddie's shoulder, "Anyway, he just left me to sleep! I woke up to him snoring with his arm around me, and I was so fucking confused."
"How long were you there? I woke up earlier and you were gone but I just thought you were in the bathroom or something. Didn’t realise you’d deserted me."
"Probably like half the fucking night. I went back to sleep after I’d woken up because his bed’s comfier than yours. I only came back in because he went to work and I got cold."
"Is a bed warmer all I am to you, Stevie?" Eddie pouted, "I thought you loved me for my wit and charm and dashingly good looks, not because I keep you toasty."
"I love you for many reasons, including how warm you run, but if you don't like it," Steve shrugged, "I guess I'll have to go to Wayne next time I'm cold. I'm sure he'll warm me up."
"Please don't leave me for my Uncle."
"Well, you better give me a good reason to stay then."
"Nobody can go down on you as well as I can."
"Oh really? Might have to let you prove that you’re the best then."
Eddie just smirks as he slides down the bed.
Wayne’s just gotten home from work when Eddie clears his throat and nudges Steve in the ribs.
"Stevie. Don’t you have something to say to Wayne?"
"Huh? Oh, right," Steve looks at Wayne as sincerely as he can possibly manage right now, "I’m so sorry, Wayne, but we were fools to think it’d work out between us. I’ll never forget our wonderful night together though."
"Well shucks, son, you’re breakin’ my dang heart here but I guess I just gotta move on," Wayne gives Steve a wink, "You know where to find me if you change ya mind."
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mxstellatayte · 3 months
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fuck me up, florida.
warnings: angst for the majority of it, sex at the end though, legal use of alcohol (reader and logan are both 23,) mentions of gunshot wounds, minor character death, based on a taylor swift song, childhood (middle/high school) friends to lovers, idiots in love, "you came" "you called," reader is half mexican (mom's side), slightly inaccurate bc i know carola wasn't at the miami gp but just go with it for the plot, reader's last name is rodriguez,
author's note: y'all i apologize if any of the spanish grammar is a little weird. my spanish is rusty, pls don't hate me for it
logan sargeant x female reader
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i need to forget so
tuesday, april 30th.
you scan your ticket, the screen displaying your name and seat number. 12A. at least it'll be easy to sleep, you think.
after shoving your suitcase above your seat, you shuffle your way to the window and buckle yourself in.
are you really doing this? flying a couple thousand miles to visit your childhood best friend who, up until recently, had you convinced that his newfound fame that he'd gathered by announcing his enrollment in the williams driver's academy made him too good for you.
the only thing that made you think otherwise was the instagram dm he'd sent you five weeks prior, asking if you'd be able to make it to the miami grand prix. instead of a simple yes or no, you responded with the heaviest three words you've ever seen in order.
can we call?
logan picked up on the second ring.
"hey."
"hey."
"how's texas?"
you smile. "hot. sunny. flat. beachless."
"so... it's good?" you hate that you can still picture his facial expressions even after not seeing him for years except for on tv.
"'s okay, but it's not home, y'know?"
"definitely. it doesn't matter how much i decorate my place in england, it's never florida."
"nothing besides florida is ever florida," you sigh, looking out the window of your apartment. "how's the season been?" you don't exactly know why you're asking. you know exactly how his season's gone. you keep every single detail of every single race weekend meticulously catalogued in a journal that you take everywhere with you. no matter what, you've stayed up late or woken up early to watch every race, as if your hopeful energy would make its way across the world to him in time.
"honestly? it's been pretty shit. the car handles really badly and wasn't really even ready for the first few hours of testing in bahrain. i can't get it to perform and maybe that's just because i haven't linked with the car yet, but it still really sucks."
you sigh, hoping logan can't tell how disappointed you are with his team and engineers. "you need a better team, lo."
"i know." there's silence between you for a few moments, and every second that passes makes it grow heavier on your chest. "will you come to miami?"
there it is. the reason you called him.
"i don't know, lo. don't get me wrong, i'd love to, but it's really short notice and i don't know if i could afford the trip. i might be able to make it to austin, but i'll need the time to save the money for the trip."
"i'll fly you out," logan immediately says, his tone almost desperate. longing. "i'll pay for your flight, your hotel, everything. please?"
that last word hit you like a punch in the gut. you only had one more reason to not go and you weren't about to tell him that reason. it was a shitty excuse anyways.
you're not about to tell him that the reason you moved to texas was to give him the space he needed to be able to succeed in his career and for you to succeed in yours.
take me to florida
you're jolted awake by the force of the plane landing, if you can call the awkward limbo you were stuck in sleep. immediately, your stomach twists with anxiety. logan had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you refused.
"i'll just take an uber," you'd said. "i'm gonna want to relax a bit after the flight, y'know?"
his only trade-off? you met him for dinner. simple enough, right?
in theory.
now, standing in front of the full-length mirror in your hotel room, you debate between a floral sundress and a pair of denim shorts, a tank top, and a white button-up t-shirt with a colorful inkblot pattern.
you decide on the sundress.
fifteen minutes later, you're pushing earrings through your piercings, silver abstract shapes you'd bought on a trip to europe with your mother. you have to leave, but the situation you're in sucks. your hair won't sit right on your head, either being too frizzy from the humidity or losing any and all volume, and your makeup just doesn't seem like it'll last in the miami heat.
fuck it.
who are you dressing for, anyways?
logan's seen you at your absolute worst. he was the only one you let yourself cry in front of after your father died. he was the one that held you for what seemed like hours while you sobbed into his chest and he told you that none of it was your fault- that you never could have known that, when you hugged him before he left for the police station, told him you loved him, and slipped a note into his lunch box, the next time you would see him, he would be laying in a casket. he was the only one that could make you smile in the weeks following his funeral, dropping his entire schedule if you simply sent him a text that said "can you come over?"
the restaurant logan found isn't too far from your hotel, so you ultimately decide to walk. your walk is over before you're able to process that it even started and you're taking out your earbuds and putting them in your bag, taking out your phone instead to text logan.
i'm here.
i've got some regrets
were you always this breathtakingly beautiful?
logan's phone buzzes in his front pocket, but he knows it's you texting him. he doesn't even bother taking it out of his pocket before standing up from his seat at the bar and walking over to you, and when you see him, your smile almost makes his heart melt.
"hey," he says, and he hopes his voice doesn't waver from how nervous he is.
"hey. i missed you," you respond, dodging the hand he holds out and going in for a hug. "i've known you since middle school, logan, i'm not shaking your hand."
your arms around him and your body pressed against his almost makes logan short circuit. thankfully, he's able to regain control of his brain and hug you back, hopefully before you realize he isn't hugging you back.
when you pull back, the hug seeming way too brief for logan's preference, you're looking up and smiling with a sparkle in your eyes that makes him regret not making enough time for you. "thanks for bringing me out here."
"thanks for coming. do you want a drink?"
"sure. do you have a table yet?"
"i was waiting for you."
"in that case, lead the way." you gesture towards the restaurant, and logan shows you to a booth in the corner. soon enough, a waiter comes over to you and sets down two glasses of water and two menus.
"welcome in, y'all. do we need a bit of time to look at the menu or do we know what we want to get started?" his southern drawl is thick, and it reminds you of texas. but you're in florida now.
"i think we'll look at the menu for a minute, thanks," logan says, and the waiter nods and walks away. as you open the menu and begin looking, logan points out something you might like and you do the same for him. conversation begins to flow freely between you, and it reminds you of the times in high school when you would go out with friends.
eventually, you decide on a plate of nachos and logan gets a plate of wings. as you wait for your food, you catch up on everything: your move to texas, logan's racing career, your work volunteering with the austin philharmonic, his homesickness from living in england, and everything in between. you crack stupid jokes, share bites of food, and steal sips of each other's drinks.
it's like old times.
i'll bury them in florida
on wednesday, you and logan drive up to visit your father's headstone. it's difficult. it's only the third time you've visited him since he was buried three years ago. the first time you visited him was a year after he died. even a year later, you still carried so much anger and hatred towards the doctors and nurses that were operating on him, trying desperately to save his life after two bullets hit him- one in his leg, one in his torso.
he died on the table.
the second time was just a few months after, and you were still wearing your cap, gown, and stole from your graduation ceremony. by then, you had been able to forgive the doctors and had graduated in the top 10% of your class. four years of hell had finally rewarded you with a degree in instrumental performance and an internship at the south florida symphony orchestra.
now, the third time, you have a picnic blanket and lunch packed into the backseat of logan's car, the windows are rolled down, and your favorite playlist is shuffled on the aux. it's a beautiful day, too; it isn't too hot (even with the humidity,) there's a gentle breeze in the air, and clouds occasionally cover the sun. when logan pulls into the parking lot of the cemetery and you sling your tote bag full of food over your shoulder, your hands start shaking.
of course, logan notices.
his hand slides into your own, and you look up at him. his eyes meet yours and you smile. "thank you for coming with me," you say.
"of course. i didn't want you to have to do this alone."
you look back at the gate into the cemetery, the black bars menacingly sleek and very, very terrifying. you chew your lower lip in anxiety. "i don't know if i can do it, logan."
"i'm here with you. i know you. you're strong. you aren't the kind of person to let a gate scare you." you laugh lightly, looking down at the ground. the gravel of the parking lot, your scuffed, beat-up high top purple converse, and logan's nike dunks make up what you have to describe as a perfect picture. your phone is in your free hand before you know it, and you're lining up the shot. "still into photography, huh?"
"yep. i have some cameras in my suitcase at the hotel." when you pocket your phone and look back up at him, logan's heart melts. the shine in your eyes and the passion in your smile is enough to soften anyone's heart, but for him, as someone who's known you for years and has been there for you through thick and thin, it touches him in such a special way. "i'm hoping to get some good photos of the races. but enough delaying. let's go visit my dad."
the creak of the gates opening makes your ears bleed, and you laugh at how logan is making the exact same face as you in reaction to such a shrill sound. despite only having visited his headstone twice before, you remember exactly where in the cemetery it is and are able to find it within five minutes.
"hi, dad," you begin, your voice already wavering just the slightest and tears beginning to well in your eyes. logan's hand squeezes yours, though, and you're reminded that he's right there. he always will be. you take a deep breath and continue. "i miss you. we all do. i know i haven't visited you in a while, and i'm sorry about that. i really do have to come stop by every now and then. i moved to austin and have a volunteering gig with the austin philharmonic at almost every show and i have a job at a company that helps students with learning disabilities learn instruments. it's really fun." you pause to wipe the tears off of your cheeks, your nose beginning to drip. "sam is in his junior year of college, and he's majoring in engineering. he flew the coop, but he still comes home for the summers. he, uh, he actually got in to c.u. boulder, like he always talked about. that kid was always thinking about college, even in middle school.
"i'm actually here with logan, too, if you hadn't noticed. do you, uh, do you want to fill him in on what's going on with you, or should i keep going?"
"whatever you prefer."
"okay, i'm going to keep talking, because i think if i don't, i'm going to completely break down. logan finally signed with williams to drive on their formula 1 team last year, like i always said he would. i'm really proud of him and really regret not telling him that more, and now that i'm saying it out loud i'm promising both you and him that i'll tell him that more often. the race this weekend is actually here, in florida. miami, specifically. it's always a celebrity shit show that no one really wants to see, but it's the main opportunity for the celebrity sponsors to actually go to a race.
"what else has been going on? oh, mom is still a therapist. i can't tell you much about that because of hipaa, but she always comes home saying that she's glad that she could help someone. i'm gonna have dinner with her tomorrow night, and then i'm going back into miami to watch logan's practice sessions."
you pause your rambling, thinking about what there is to say next, but your thought is interrupted by your stomach grumbling. loud. you and logan laugh just as loudly, the sound echoing through the grass field and stone gravesites. "oh, yeah, that's another thing. we brought lunch. i also got you pink tulips, because i know they're your favorite." you delicately rest the bouquet on your father's headstone as you sit down, then pull out the different plastic containers filled with food you'd stolen from the williams hospitality. "you'd be proud of me, dad. i smuggled this entire picnic out of the wiliams motorhome without a hiccup. robin hood style."
logan laughs, and you turn to him. he's mirrored your position, sitting cross-legged on the grass. "apple?"
"nah, i'm gonna start with my sandwich. i did grab you some of the salt and vinegar chips i know you like."
the look logan gives you can only be described as pure adoration. "you," he says, pointing a finger at you in an incredibly sassy manner, "are an absolute goddess."
"i know," you respond cheekily, tossing some hair over your shoulder.
the banter between the two of you continues through your picnic, laughter and smiles erasing the dried tracks of tears on your cheeks and on logan's. you're almost able to forget where you are.
tell me i'm despicable
almost two hours later, the two of you are laying in a nearby park underneath a tree, peacefully observing the clouds that pass overhead and talking even more about any topic that comes to your mind. the question that's been gnawing at you since your plane landed in miami eventually bubbles to the surface, and it tumbles past your lips before you can stop it.
"did you ever wonder why i moved to texas?" you look to your left where logan rests, but he keeps looking up at the sky. you mirror him.
"i always assumed it was just because you needed a change of scenery. after everything that happened and your music career taking off, it would make sense that you would relocate to somewhere better suited for you."
"that's the thing, though. if i'm being entirely honest with you, lo, i hate texas. i hate the whole state. i hate how hot it is all the time without even being humid, i hate not being able to go to the beach. i hate how dry it is. i hate how flat it is. i hate the monotony of it. i hate not being here."
logan hesitates for a moment before speaking, and it's the longest moment you've ever experienced. "why did you move to austin, then?"
when he looks over at you, you're chewing your lower lip. it's a nervous tic, logan's noticed. he's not even sure if you know you do it. "honestly? i thought you moved on from our friendship. i thought everything with f1 suddenly got so big and important and famous that maybe i wasn't... enough? i thought that being a police officer's daughter from the same town as you that was studying to teach people how to understand and play music maybe just wasn't cool enough to be friends with a world-renowned formula 1 driver."
logan's heart almost shatters when he hears the weakness in your voice. you sound so broken and so alone. he knew that, when you lost your father, you isolated yourself from a lot of people, even your best friend from high school and through your first year of college. he was the only person outside of your immediate family that you spent a decent amount of time with, but when he was admitted to the driver's academy he had to move to england. he abandoned you.
"i didn't. i never forgot about you. sometimes i still look through the photos we have together because i miss you that much."
you sit up, tears pricking your eyes for the second time that day. "really?"
"yeah. maybe once a week?"
when you look down at logan, you're suddenly starstruck. you can't help but notice all of his little features that you wouldn't see if you didn't know to look for them. his freckles that are so light you'd have to squint to see them if you didn't know them like the back of your hand. the mole on his chin that he'd always been self-conscious about but you've always seen it as beautiful. the lines from where his eyes crinkle when he smiles. the annoyingly perfect flop of his hair that he's styled almost the exact same way since you started high school together. an urge you haven't felt in years suddenly bubbles, white-hot in the pit of your stomach, and it's boiling over before you can stop it. your eyes are closed and your lips are on his. finally. after years of wanting, of stares that lasted just a bit too long to be just friendly, of flushed faces and nervous excuses, you're finally kissing him.
but he's not kissing you back.
you pull back immediately, panicked that you read something wrong. you turn away, hiding your face in your hands out of shame. "shit, logan, i'm so sorry. i thought-"
"kiss me again." logan sits up, and when you turn around, the look he's giving you can only be described as completely and entirely fucked. you don't question his statement, just lean forward, placing your lips on his, and letting yourself melt. he moans softly into the kiss, his right arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. when you pull away and open your eyes, your breath catches in your throat. he looks beautiful. his eyes remain closed, but when they flutter open, you see colors in them that you've never seen before. sure, you've always seen the darker rim of blue that outlines his irises, but now that you're so close to him, you can see the flecks of green and grey in them. it's the most stunning thing you've ever seen.
eventually, you break the silence between the two of you. "i've wanted to kiss you for so long," you whisper, so quiet you're not sure logan heard it.
but he did.
"me, too," he says, and after a beat of silence between you two, you both burst out laughing. the laugh he hears from you is the pure, bright laugh that logan's missed so dearly, the laugh that you only really let him hear. the laugh that has tears in your eyes and makes you snort because you're laughing so hard you can't even breathe properly.
eventually, when you're able to calm down, your head resting on logan's shoulder, your hand holding his, you're able to process what just happened. you just hope logan is processing it, too.
"we just kissed."
"yes. we did."
"how long have you held out on me?"
"since christmas of sophomore year. when you made me the chevron bracelet with my favorite colors."
you laugh, then lift your head to look at him. "i fell for you in october of that year. when you convinced your mom to drive two and a half hours for the marching band state finals. just so you could be there with me."
"god, we're idiots," logan laughs. you can't help but lean forward and press another kiss to his lips, lingering there and just breathing him in.
existing.
say it's unforgivable
the next two days fly by. thursday, you spend the day with your mother. she asks all sorts of questions as if she doesn't know the answers, and you answer each one with a smile on your face. when she asks about logan, you smile sheepishly. she figures out what the smile means.
"took you two long enough."
normally you'd still be in bed at 9:30 am on a friday, but today, you walk into the miami paddock clutching logan's hand for dear life. your neon green pass hangs from your neck, a white williams cap atop your head. you can't help but feel out of place, but someone calls logan's name and you both turn. your stomach drops when you see who's called his name. his hair is styled similarly to logan's, and he sports a papaya polo.
you'd know him anywhere. it's oscar piastri.
you're standing there a bit awkwardly as logan greets his friend, but your heart stops when oscar turns to you. "oscar, this is my girlfriend." he introduces you by your name to the mclaren driver and you wipe your hands on your denim shorts before shaking his hand firmly, exchanging "nice to meet you"s. the three of you chat for a few minutes before oscar is summoned by his pr manager.
"girlfriend, huh?" you look up at logan with a smile on your face, lacing his fingers with yours.
"i didn't mean to overstep, but i kind of assumed that's what this is now. is it?" he looks a bit nervous asking that, and if you thought your love for him couldn't grow any more, you thought wrong.
"that's absolutely what we are, lo. you're my boyfriend. i'm your girlfriend." you can tell just how hard logan's trying to not let the smile on his face show just how happy he is to hear you say that, and you stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips briefly. "you have a prep meeting to get to, don't you?"
"i do. come with me, though. i need to introduce you to alex and lily. she can show you around."
"sounds like a plan. i need to learn how to do all of..." you gesture around you, the white tents and media carts all seeming suddenly too intimidating. "...this."
logan laughs, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the williams hospitality. when you're next to him, though, despite the cameras around you and your proximity to some of the world's biggest stars, you feel safe and protected.
after meeting logan's teammate and the thai driver's girlfriend, who you quickly realize is one of the sweetest people you've ever had the pleasure of meeting, you're shown around the williams hospitality and, eventually, the paddock. lily introduces you to the other drivers' wives and girlfriends that have made it to the weekend, and when you hear a certain last name, your ears perk up.
"martinez? is she latina?"
"yeah," kika, pierre's girlfriend, says. "she's checo's wife. i'm pretty sure she's in the red bull hospitality right now, though."
"ah, speak of the devil," lily says. you see carola walking up to the five of you, alexandra ("please, honey, call me alex," she'd said, bringing you in for a kiss on your cheek,) having walked away to get a drink and escape into the sweet air conditioning. "carola, there's a new couple on the paddock."
"you're kidding," the latina answers, her accent apparent. "who?"
"logan found himself a girlfriend. allow me to introduce her." lily turns to you and introduces you by your full name, last name and all. it seems that carola has a similar reaction to your last name as you did to hers, and her head tilts to the side.
"ya no eres la única mexicana aquí," you say, and her eyebrows raise. (you aren't the only mexican here anymore.)
"hablas español, también?" (you speak spanish, too?) when you nod, her smile brightens. "hay, chica, creo que nosotras dos nos vamos a llevar muy bien." (oh, girl, i think we're going to get along very well.)
on saturday, you find yourself back in the williams motorhome, except this time, you wear a second badge, the neon green lanyard reading grid access in bold black lettering. like the day before, you clutch logan's hand for your own comfort until, much to your dismay, he's summoned for driver duties. you place a quick kiss on his cheek, and when you pull back, you aren't sure if the flush on his cheeks is from the affection or the miami heat. probably both.
"in case i don't see you before sprint. for luck."
"oh, you'll be in the garage. that's what this pass is for," logan says, holding your second badge in front of your face. "lily will show you where to go. i'll take a kiss anyways, though." you smile, stand on your toes, and kiss him, pulling back before he can wrap an arm around your waist. (that was a trick he very much enjoyed, as you'd learned the night before. there was something in him that needed you as close to him as possible, and it covered every nerve ending in your body in liquid fire.)
"off you go. you need to get race ready. i'll see you before you go out on the grid. don't worry." you gently shove him away with a smile, and you'd stare at him longer if your ankles weren't suddenly being attacked. you look down and squeal. "hi, leo! did your dad let you run free?" you squat down and scratch the mini daschund behind his disproportionally large ears, and he barks excitedly.
someone curses in french to your right, and you look up from the little golden ball of energy to see none other than charles leclerc frantically searching around. leo barks again, and the monégasque whips around, then locks eyes on you first, then his dog.
"merde, leo. you have too much energy for it being this early in the morning," he laughs as he walks over to you.
"i apologize, it appears i've unintentionally kidnapped your dog." you stand, and leo jumps at your calves again.
"ah, no harm, no foul," charles replies, picking up his dog and holding him close to his chest. "i will say, though, you look strangely familiar. have we met? my name is charles."
"we have not." you extend your hand and offer your name, and, when charles' eyebrows furrow and his head tilts in confusion, you realize that means nothing to him. "i'm logan's girlfriend."
"ah! yes, of course! he has a photo of the two of you at your high school graduation in his wallet. that's where i knew you from. well, it's nice to meet you!" that was news to you. logan has a picture of you in his wallet? either way, you just casually met one of the most famous people in the world like it was a standard tuesday.
if this is what i signed up for by being logan's girlfriend, then it is absolutely wild.
you're able to catch another good luck kiss with logan as he's almost fully suited up, and fuck, does he look good. his fireproof suit hangs low on his hips, the arms tied together in front of him. dark blue is a good color on him, and his facial hair is grown out in just the slightest. you can't lie, he looks hot as hell.
you cross your legs in an attempt to curb the heat that creeps down your tummy and between them. it doesn't work.
you amend it that night in logan's hotel room following his p10 in the sprint.
on sunday, you try to avoid thinking about the night before as you follow the same routine as the two days before- arriving early in the day, checking in at the williams motorhome, and then killing time until the driver's parade at 2:00 PM. you spend time with your new group of friends, spending the three remaining hours before the parade in the paddock club. rebecca, carlos' girlfriend, snickers at your shocked face when you see some of your idols and favorite celebrities casually walking around, gladly taking some photos for you as you're practically buzzing with excitement.
after the driver's parade, it's a whirlwind. you're swept back into the williams garage and find logan's driver's room relatively easily thanks to the help of some of the engineers and mechanics, but one of them stops you before you can venture too far into the depths of the hallways.
"could you tell him we have the pre-race strategy meeting in twenty minutes?"
"yeah, for sure." as you approach logan's door, you have to bite down on your lower lip to stifle the grin that wants to split your face. you knock on his door, and when he opens it, you know something's wrong. "lo, are you okay?" his eyes are red and his hand shakes on the doorknob. instead of a verbal response, he just opens the door a bit further to let you in, and, as soon as it shuts behind you, he sobs, and your heart shatters.
"i'm so scared. i'm so scared that something's going to happen and i'm going to let all of these people down and-" you gather him into your arms and he cries into the crook of your neck, your williams crewneck shirt now damp with his tears. you couldn't care less.
"you're going to do amazing, logie. i know you will." with your arms wrapped around him, it's almost like a weighted blanket of safety has encompassed him, and his sobs slow, his breaths growing deeper and more even. you continue murmuring words of confidence into his shoulder, and not a single word you say is empty.
"hey. look at me." you lean back and gently cup his cheek with your right palm, and when his eyes meet yours, you know that he needed to cry that one out. "do you feel a little bit better?" logan nods, tilting his head ever so slightly to kiss your palm, his own hand coming up to rest over yours. it's a cute, sappy, stupidly romantic moment that you from three weeks ago would've probably thought was the grossest thing known to mankind, but you can't help but bask in the moment. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better right now?" your voice is a soothing balm over logan's agitated nerves, and he slowly untangles himself from you and guides you over to the couch that's against the back wall, where he sits down and you curl up to his left side.
"can you just... talk? about anything?"
"are you seriously asking if me, the person with the most rampant adhd you've ever met, can talk about something? yes, logan, i absolutely can. what to talk about, though?"
as you talk, deciding to info dump about your favorite classical music piece, logan can't help but watch it unfold. he doesn't know jack shit about music theory, but listening to you ramble about something you're passionate about brings him so much peace. you're disturbed about fifteen minutes later by a knock at the door, promptly followed by a disembodied voice telling logan that it was time for the strategy meeting.
"aw, shit," he says, leaning his head back and rubbing at his eyes. "i have that to go to now."
"yeah, sorry. i was supposed to tell you about that but we had a bigger problem on our hands." your voice is sheepish now that your info dump has been cut short, but logan leans over to you and kisses you, soft and slow, just like the first time he kissed you properly in the park. when he pulls away, he looks so much calmer than he was twenty minutes before. "is there anything else i can do?"
"go have some fun in the paddock. and please drink some water." you roll your eyes and stand, bringing him in for another hug before you slip out of the door.
almost two hours later, you're back in the williams garage with a guest headset over your ears. your stomach twists with nerves as the national anthem concludes. lily's hand is clasped with yours.
"the first lap is the worst. after that, you lose a lot of the anxiety," she assures you, noticing how you chew your lower lip.
"thanks." you pause for a moment, contemplating another question. "does it ever get easier? seeing how they go out there and drive like absolute maniacs for fun?"
"it does. it took me a couple of months, but after alex showed me all of the safety features in the car and in his fireproofs, it definitely helped."
it's the moment you've been dreading.
one red light.
two.
three.
four.
five.
and then none.
the engines roar and the race has begun. lily didn't lie to you- the first lap is excruciatingly long, but when everyone's completed their first loop around the circuit, you let yourself breathe. your eyes are trained on the screen above you, and the laps are flying by so quickly that you barely process that the race is nearly halfway over.
but then logan's car is in the wall. fuck.
as you watch the replay of his crash, you can feel white-hot rage burning in your body. after the race stewards only declare a ten-second penalty and two super license points, though, you're fuming. "two penalty points and a ten-second penalty? magnussen caused logan's race to end, and they just let him go? they just forgive him and move on? how can he get away with that? this is bullshit!"
what a crash, what a rush
the first person logan looks for when he walks back into the williams garage, his visor still low over his eyes in shame, is you. when you see him walking towards the room where you and lily watch the race, you tear the headset off of your ears and run to him. the feeling of his arms wrapping around your shoulders and hearing his heartbeat even through your musician's earplugs soothes your agitated nerves. he's okay. he's alive. he isn't hurt. "thank fuck you're okay," you say, even though he definitely can't hear you through his helmet and over the roar of passing engines. when you pull away, you press a kiss to his knuckles and hope he understands how much love you're trying to convey through such a small gesture.
fuck me up, florida!
one of logan's best friends on the grid is oscar. oscar's teammate got his maiden win after almost five years of waiting in miami.
like any sensible person, you celebrate with him.
you have no idea what the name of the club is, much less how many drinks you've had so far, but what you do know is that lando has commandeered the dj station and logan is pressed against your back, his hands resting on your hips. the air is hot and thick, your heartbeat pounds in your head. the opening notes of bad bunny's tití me preguntó begin playing through the massive speakers, and you shoot a glare up to lando that he doesn't see, his focus instead on the equipment in front of him. when the bass hits, though, you let all apprehensiveness go and your genetics take the reins. your hips sway and swing to the beat, your hands wander up and down your torso, and logan simply follows your lead. it takes you a moment to realize that, if you want to get a rise out of him, you're going to have to spin around and face him.
with your hips swaying against his and how unbearably beautiful you look in the dim light, your skin glowing with sweat and your hair up in a high ponytail, logan can't help but lean down and kiss you when you finally turn around. you reciprocate gladly, your right leg slotting between both of his, and...
oh.
oh.
he's hard.
you pull away slightly, barely an inch between your lips. "slow your roll there, tiger."
"i don't want to." fire zips down your spine at the sound of his voice, low and breathy and so, so desperate. "need to fuck you."
"should we get outta here, then?"
"i thought you'd never ask." you smile and kiss him quickly, then take his hand and weave your way through the crowded dance floor. as the miami night air hits your face, you immediately feel cooler. you sigh, taking a moment to breathe and regulate your heart rate and body temperature, but you can't breathe for that long before logan wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him and kissing your neck. you laugh, running your hands along his forearms.
"logan, not here. the hotel is two blocks away."
"i can't help it, baby, you just look so pretty," he hums, kissing the back of your neck once more before pulling away and stepping around to face you. "you look so pretty, and you're mine."
his possessiveness of you makes more heat zip down your spine, and you almost drool at how he's looking at you. his eyes, normally a beautiful mix between the blues of the sky and sea, ar"e almost completely dark, only a small sliver of his irises remaining, and the muscles in his jaw tick. "hotel. now."
by the time you reach the door to logan's hotel room, you're both out of breath from how hard he kissed you in the elevator and the arousal and need between your legs won't be stopped unless he replaces it. you stumble through the door and try to kiss logan again, matching the vigor he showed you in the elevator, but he stops you. "wanna take my time with you tonight."
"yeah?" you raise an eyebrow and inspect his face. the blinds are open but no lights are on, so all you can see is the side of his face that's illuminated by the lights from the streets of miami. it's an unusually beautiful sight.
"yeah. nothing about what i'm about to do to you is going to be fast. i'm gonna make you feel good tonight. how's that sound?"
"that sounds amazing, logan." you lean forward and kiss him gently, your lips slotting together as if you were made for each other. who knows, maybe you were. the next five minutes are a blur, but before you know it, you're laying back against the pillows on logan's bed and his face is buried between your thighs, his tongue working magic on your clit. the air in the hotel room is filled with your moans and the sounds of logan devouring you like a man starved, and it's the most beautiful mix of sounds you've ever heard. when he flicks his tongue oh-so-perfectly against your entrance, his nose brushing over your clit, you moan and pull his hair hard, which, in turn, makes him moan against you.
you aren't sure how much time passes or how many orgasms logan pulls from you with just his tongue and his fingers, but when you feel completely and entirely spent, your chest heaving and your hairline sparkling with tiny beads of sweat, you pull logan up to you by his shoulders, and he looks completely and entirely fucked. "need you inside of me," you mumble, wiping at the mix of spit and cum that coats the entire bottom half of his face with your thumbs. as if on instinct, you bring your hands to your mouth and lick them clean, and logan groans at the sight. "inside. now."
"as you wish, baby." logan's hands fumble at his boxers, the only item of clothing he was left wearing, and when he finally, finally pushes himself into you, you both moan. your hands scrabble at his shoulders and back, most definitely leaving red marks that will raise later, and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down and then gently kissing over the red spot.
"nngh, lo-" your brain is short circuiting, logan's cock filling you up so perfectly and absolutely ruining you for any other man ever.
"yeah? you okay, baby?" he pulls back from your neck and scans your face for any sign of discomfort of pain, his sky blue eyes searching your own. the feeling of safety you get from just that one action is almost enough to make you sob from how good you feel because of him, both physically and emotionally.
"feels so good, lo. j'st... move, please."
"you sure? i don't wanna hurt you."
"positive. now please." you reach a hand up and pull him down towards you by the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard. "fuck me properly." without wasting a second, logan reaches a hand down and hooks it under your left thigh, bringing your leg up to rest around his waist, then pulling back and thrusting back in fast. the moan that rips itself from your throat is sinful, and your breath is being punched from your lungs at the downright brutal pace logan's setting. your right leg finds itself locking around his waist, only bringing him infinitely closer, and now, each time he thrusts back into you, your clit bumps against his pelvis. within minutes, you're embarrassingly close to cumming again, and through your garbled mumbling and clawing at his shoulders, he understands, reaching his right hand down to gently press against your clit.
"cum for me, baby, please, need to feel you cum for me just one more time, just let go, i've got you." it's logan's voice that ultimately sends you pummelling over the edge into an orgasm that makes your back arch and your vision fuzz at the edges, and you cum with a cry of his name. his hips slow and his fingers maintain a steady rhythm on your clit, but you can tell it's taking its toll on him. "where- where do you want me to cum?"
"i'm on the pill, lo. inside, baby, please," you whine, and it takes two more thrusts before logan groans, his hips coming to a shuddering halt as he cums inside of you. it's a beautiful sight, too- his eyes scrunched closed and his eyebrows drawn together, his hair a complete mess from where your hands had pulled at it. your hands run through his hair and along his back, and you patiently wait as he comes back to earth.
"hi," he murmurs, opening his eyes and smiling down at you.
"hi," you respond.
no other words need to be said. you know you love him, and he knows he loves you.
and you're both okay with that.
this took me way longer to write than i thought it would, but i absolutely love it! reminder that my asks and requests are open, and i always get excited when i get feedback! take care of urselves lovies <3
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wonbin-truther · 13 days
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˚⊹ ᰔೀ dream boyfriend: incoming ˚⊹ ᰔೀ ╰┈➤ fuck
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mark adjusted your weight on his back as you laid against him with your head on his shoulder. despite being awake, you were deadly quiet. the only reason mark was aware you were awake was the way you buried your face into his shoulder, arms loosing a small bit before wrapping your arms back around him.
"one more min. let me get this open," mark mumbled to himself. he quickly typed the dorm code into the keypad before pushing it open. he tossed his phone and your phone onto his desk before putting you down on his bed.
"alright you need clothes," mark rummaged through his drawer, pulling out an old spiderman shirt and basketball shorts. he placed them in your hands as you stared up at him.
"do you want me to go outside or ..." mark trailed off. he watched as you fumbled to take off your own shirt, eyebrows furrowing as you got increasingly frustrated with your lack of coordination.
you looked up at mark, "help. please" the weakness in your voice practically shattered marks heart into pieces. he took the pj shirt, slipping it over your head and helping you put your arms through. he then tried his best to take off the shirt underneath as he made sure the shirt on top stayed down. he undid the buttons of your jeans for you and then closed his eyes as you kicked them off and put on the basketball shorts.
"um you can sleep in hyucks bed if you dont want to stay in mine. or i can call jaemin to pick you up too."
you shook your head, instantly regretting it as you felt a throbbing pain. tears started to well in your eyes, making mark frown.
"just go to bed. you'll feel better in the morning," mark went to turn to go to haechans bed for the night but a hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping him in place.
"stay please. im scared"
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you stood up quickly as you felt the nausea start to hit you again, this time bubbling up your throat. you looked around quick for any door that might imply a bathroom.
you made a run for the door with the mirror on it, adjacent to the beds and threw up in the toilet bowl. as you closed your eyes, you felt a hand rubbing your back and grabbing the hair that fell around your face.
you let out a shaky sigh as you sat down, tears running down your face.
"all good?" mark held nothing but concern in his eyes as he continued to rub your back, knelt down next to you. you went to nod your head but you felt the nausea hit you again, leaning back over and throwing up.
"stay here. i'm gonna get you a hair tie and water," mark stood up as you flushed the toilet and sat on the cold tile.
you let out a shaky laugh, "not much i can do but stay here."
"so what happened?" you asked mark who had returned to the bathroom, tying your hair up for you and was now sitting next to you on the floor.
"im not too sure but i walked into the kitchen to get some ice for my cheek and you were pushing away this guy. i think his name is jay. not the one on the soccer team with me from chicago, the asshole who got with somi freshman year. anyways he was all up on you so i shouted at him to get away from you. and then you passed out," mark explained.
you held your head in your hands, "i didnt even drink. so why'd i pass out. the only drink i had was ..."
mark stared at you confused, "was?"
"the one he gave me," you could feel tears started to well in your eyes again. "that asshole drugged me."
"well at least youre okay now. do you want me to take you back to your dorm and you can call jaemin to take care of you?"
you shook your head, almost instantly regretting it as the nausea and dizziness hit you, "i dont think i can get up from this spot on the floor right now."
"just tell me. ill even call soobin or san to come if you dont want me taking you back. i know im probably not your favorite person," mark cringed as you started throwing up again.
he handed you a piece of toilet paper which you happily took to wipe your mouth, "what happened with somi?"
mark groaned, "god i never want to hear that name again."
you laughed weakly, "i told you so."
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previous - main - next
synopsis! it wasnt your fault mark was the first profile to appear on your instagram! and it was most definitely not your fault when you told your annoying older cousins that mark lee, the captain of your unis soccer team, was your boyfriend and somehow got him invited to the next family reunion...
tags! (closed) @haedgaf @onlyhyunjin @mmjhh1998 @nctrawberries @multifandomania @hyuoonp @kittydollzz @bathilda @413ktz @alethea-moon @meowmarkie @urlocalbeaner5 @nanaxwi @lvrholic @sunghoonsgfreal @jakeshuneybby @nosungluv @evilsailorsenshi @calumsfringe @haesungie @tommina @vantxx95 @markeroolee @soobsung @tynlvr @morkiee @sehunniepot @starfilledgaze @pickmedolls @xcosmi @slayhaechan @neozon3nha @nneteyamss @lionzyon @jakeslucifer @bbina @winwintea
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alieinthemorning · 4 days
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How’s It Hanging, Beautiful? [Ace Trappola]
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Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Reader-Insert
Pronouns: None
Remaster of: “You’re so beautiful.” | Ace Trappola [400 Follower Event]
Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!
This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.
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Ace wouldn’t say that he wasn’t a morning person, but instead a deep sleeper. Usually, it’d take a lot to rouse him from sleep. However, there was one thing that could always get him up, no matter what. 
And that was the smell of Sunday morning breakfast. 
Saliva was pooled in his mouth before he even opened his eyes. He swallowed it as the rest of his body followed the lead of his taste buds. He stretched (carefully, he didn’t want to get a cramp), letting out a satisfying groan. Then he sat up, eyes finally opening to the dimly lit room. 
You were not there beside him or lingering in the room, but that made sense since you had to be the one cooking. What was odd was that Grim was nowhere to be found, but maybe today was his lucky day, and you’d give him some extras (when would he learn that he’d only get anything if he’d actually help). Shaking his head, he grabbed his phone, and headed for the bathroom. 
After fixing his rough bed head and rinsing his mouth out, Ace made his way downstairs to join you and Grim in the kitchen. You must have gotten up earlier than usual today because breakfast was almost done.
“Come on! Lemme just have a little—” Grim’s paw was reaching toward the bowl of strawberries, but you quickly swatted it. 
“Let it alone. Go take your seat.” You didn’t even bat an eye.
Grim huffed, hopped off the stool, and retreating to the dining room. 
Ace didn’t bother with teasing him, and instead honed in on you. 
“Morning.” His arms wrapped around your waist. 
You turned in his arms, “Morning, sleeping beauty.” You pecked the underside of his chin. 
He returned your kiss with one on your forehead. “You coulda woke me up, you know…” 
“Yeah, but I like watching you drool.” 
Ace pulled back, “I do not drool.” 
You simply smiled as you picked up the plate of pancakes. “Time to set the the table.” 
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Sundays were lazy days, most of the time the three of you would just stay huddled up in bed all day after breakfast. Today was no different, except for Grim leaving to follow the sun (he was an expert sunbather, after all).  
Ace was a deep sleeper, but for some reason something pulled him from his sleep. And he was forever thankful for it. 
You were turned toward him (you were facing away from him when you fell asleep, you’re such a wild sleeper), mouth slightly open (no drool, damn it), lashing gently resting against dark circles. His thumb brushed against your lower lid. He should talk to Crowley about lessening your load. 
“How’s it hanging, beautiful?” 
Ace jolted, not expecting you to speak, let alone be awake. 
But then he smiled, “Not much, what’s going on with you, beautiful?”
“Just admiring you.”
“Crazy, me too.” 
You both laughed at yourselves,
and the beauty of your relationship.
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Happy Birthday, Ace!
And now that I've said that, time for a serious end note lol
Sooooooo on the 9/1/24, I had emergency gallbladder surgery! And now I'm having an emergency hysterectomy (Tomorrow lol)! Originally, my appointment was in November, but after another trip to the ER they finally realized that bleeding for 6 months straight actually isn't normal, and something should be done about it!
So, yeah, I'm gonna be out of commission (again)! Which, I've barely been posting anyway, but I've also been in excruciating pain for the past six months, sooo yeah!
I'll see yeah when I see y'all!
Ko-Fi | Masterlist
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osleeplessflowero · 7 months
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🔦Sleepover🌙
A pretty room in a yellow void.. you find yourself sitting on a little picnic blanket, currently playing a card game with Dream since he'd made his way into your mind by accident again. It's becoming a common occurrence, you don't really mind it though.. Dream's always been a very good friend to you, welcome in the comforts of your mind.
"Beat that!" You call out, slamming down a +4 card with a triumphant smile. He looks down at the deck, flabbergasted and putting his hands on the sides of his skull.
"You were hiding that from me!" He points at you, accusatory. A smug grin crosses your face. "Gotta take advantage of my secret weapons." "Fair enough, good job." He smiles at you. You frown a bit at that, organizing the cards again. "It's less fun when you're nice about losing." You pout, earning a soft chuckle in return. The peace is interrupted when you notice that your body is becoming transparent, fading out of view..
"Wh- What's happening? Am I dying-" You panic, earning a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Not at all, it just means you're waking up. I'll see you again sometime soon, okay?" "Wait it's like the middle of the night I can't wake up ye-"
You sit up abruptly in your bed, eyes wide open. You look around your room with an annoyed expression, disappointed that your dreams were interrupted for no reason. Damn it, body! Looks like you're not gonna be able to go back to bed for a while..
Turning your head, you look down with widened eyes when you see a skull next to you. You instinctively grab a pillow, bonking the skeleton on the head. Killer moves the blanket down a little bit, looking at you with narrowed, tired eyelights.
"whaaat.. i'm trying to sleep." You smile a little at how cute he sounds when he's sleepy, before shaking your head. "What are you doing in my room, Killer?"
"uh..sleeping- was that not clear?" He blinks slowly. "Killer, you have your own room to sleep in." You deadpan, sitting criss-cross-applesauce. He leans up a bit, resting all his weight on his right elbow so he can look at you better. "Give me the real reason."
He sighs, sitting up so he can be closer to you and putting his arms around you. Resting his skull on your shoulder, he replies. "..i got lonely, so i snuck in. i sleep better when i'm next to you."
Your face flushes a little, your hand instinctively moving up to trail patterns along his skull. "..Aw. You love me." Your smile shifts to a smug one.
"obviously." He murmurs, smiling a bit himself.
"Weeell..I'll let it slide this time. But next time ask me first before I punch you thinking you're a paralysis demon." "you can't move during sleep paralysis." "If I'm tired I won't think of that." "fair enough." He chuckles. "what're you doing awake, anyway? it's like the middle of the night. usually only nightmare's up at this hour. he's like a vampire sometimes-" He whispers that last part.
"I dunno. My body decided it'd had enough rest so now I'm wide awake and have to wait until I'm tired again in order to go to bed." "huh..that sucks. well..since you're awake, why don't we go do something fun?" "We could have a sleepover!" You whisper-shout, your eyes lighting up. "do you really wanna wake the others up?" "If they don't wanna join then they can just miss out." You shrug before standing up, smiling amusedly as you hear a whine from Killer since he isn't holding you anymore. You motion for him to get up, walking over to the side of the bed he'd been sleeping on and picking up his jacket that had fallen onto the floor, putting it on.
His grin stretches a bit when he sees you wearing it, putting his arm around your shoulders to give you a side hug before walking over to the door. You slide on your slippers since the floor's a bit cold, walking out with him into the darkness.
Before turning around, grabbing a flashlight in your room, and coming back. Not today demons.
"c'mon, i'm scarier than anything you could see in the dark." "I'm not taking chances, Killer." You point the light at him, flicking it on and off before making your way down the hall and knocking on Dust's door.
You wait a few seconds, earning no reply. Killer leans in to listen, backing up a little. "duuuust, get up we need you for somethin'-"
"go away." His voice is muffled through the door. "get out here before i drag you-" You cut Killer off, putting a hand on his chest before walking to the door.
"Dustyyy- I'll give you a smooch if you come out hereee-" You suggest with a grin, earning a deadpan look from Killer.
Shortly after the door opens, Dust looking slightly down at you. "you mean it?" "Yep." "on god?-" Killer looks between you as you lean up, reaching your hand into the dark void of Dust's hood and pressing a kiss against his cheekbone.
"Deal's a deal." You grin as you vaguely see a dark purple shade cross his face once you start leaning back. "..mkay, what do you want?" He averts his eyelights. "Me and Killer are having a sleepover because I can't sleep- wanna join us?" "well, you already got me up..guess so. but don't expect me to stay up for too long." "if you fall asleep first i'll just draw on your face again." Killer cuts in with a smirk. Dust slowly turns to face him. "i will fucking kill you-"
"Yaaay! Two out of four!" You completely ignore their bickering, walking over to Horror's door.
"don't tell me they're gonna try to get nightmare in on this." Dust looks over at Killer as they follow you. "wouldn't surprise me. who knows? maybe they can convince him. he likes them, after all." "that is true.. but i dunno. he's not the type to do stuff like this." "we'll just have to see." Killer shrugs as you knock, waiting for Horror to emerge.
"It's meeee.." You wait patiently, before he opens the door. "..what? it's like the middle of the night. can't sleep?.." He speaks with his morning voice, earning a slightly flushed expression from you before you wave it off. "I can't sleep so I'm inviting everybody for a sleepover. You wanna join? It's okay if you don't, I'll let you sleep." You smile up at the skeleton, who gives you an appreciative smile since you aren't outright pressuring him to do this.
"i guess i can for a lil' bit. but then i'm out." "Works for me." "uuugh, wait, that means they're gonna be here too-" "I'm sure you guys'll be just fine." You give him a pat on the hand as you hold it, before walking down the hall and shining your light before you.
Dust only just now notices your choice of attire. "isn't that killer's?"
"uh huh." Killer looks at him with a smug grin that he wants to punch off of it, settling for an eye roll instead.
"I saw an opportunity and I took it. You're not getting it back until tomorrow, Killer- even then that's debatable." You stick out your tongue, earning a chuckle from him as you all enter the kitchen together. You immediately go over to raid the fridge for whatever looks appetizing, Horror falling behind to make a drink for himself. Killer finds a cooler which works out in your favor, so you put drinks and anything that needs to stay cold in it. Dust simply looks out into the hall at something vacantly.
"This is gonna be fun-" You smile, satisfied with your search.
"hey, uh, where are we going for this anyway? are we like going back to your room or the living room orrr?" Killer lifts the cooler with magic, not feeling like carrying it himself at the moment.
"I have a more fun idea." You grin, pointing towards the window.
"outside, huh?..could be spooooky.." "I put up fairy lights out there a while back, and I haven't had a good chance to look at 'em. So this is a great chance! Plus we could put up a blanket for a projector and watch something together."
"look at you, plannin' things in advance." Horror ruffles your hair, a fond smile on his face. Your own face flushes a bit as you lean into his touch.
"What the hell are you all doing in here?"
Killer jumps into Dust's arms Scooby-Doo style with a yelp, shaking. The latter simply rolls his eyelights.
"Hey, Night! Glad you could make it." You smile smugly, giving Horror a squeeze before walking over to him.
"It's the middle of the night, usually I am the only one awake at this hour. What are you doing?" He turns to you as you lean into him, rolling his eyelights as his tentacles give away his joy to see you by swaying about similarly to a dog's tail.
"We're having a group sleepover, I was about to ask you to join, but here you are!" You grin. "Dearest, if you'd have tried to wake me, had I been asleep, the results wouldn't have been favorable, I'm afraid."
"called it." Dust comments, dropping Killer and earning a "hey!" from him on the floor.
"Pleeeease join us- it'll be fun, I swear! Please please please-" "Dearest, I've got a ton of work to do, I cannot- Don't give me the face."
You blink innocently, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"Damn you-" He sighs. "Fine."
"Yaaaay!" You cheer, spinning him around before making your way outside. He lets out an amused huff, before turning to the others.
"Well? The fuck are you standing around for?"
..They each follow you out, Nightmare being last.
Clapping your hands, lights that have been strung up across Nightmare's lawn illuminate the area with a light glow (the color of your soul). You rush to the best spot, an open space between two trees that has just enough room for everybody to sit.
Horror places down some blankets, along with raising one up for the projector since he's the tallest here. Killer puts a radio down, playing some music. Dust is on cooler duty, making sure it's propped up to where it won't be tipped over. Nightmare simply observes, standing beside you.
Your staring is interrupted once Killer grabs your hand, spinning you both around in circles to the music, much to your amusement. Nightmare leans his back on one of the trees, watching the two of you with an amused smile. Horror sits down at an edge of the blanket, relaxing. Dust mutters to an invisible force, seeming to be lost in thought.
Letting out a laugh, you turn to Nightmare. "Hey, Night! C'mere, let's dance together."
"Oh, no, I'm afraid I'll have to decline, Dearest." He holds up a hand. "C'mon, you're a great dancer, I've seen it before! It'll be fuuun." You hold out your hand to him. "yeah, c'mon, boss! have a little fun. you've been all work and no play recently."
"I.." He looks between the two of you, feeling his cheekbones heat up a little before fading away. "Very well, if that is what you wish." He walks over, taking your hand, before abruptly dipping you down. "Just don't expect me to go easy on you."
Your face burns as he raises you back up, the two of you dancing around to a different tune that begins to play. Killer sneaks up behind Dust, spooking him before they have a conversation about something random. Horror even adds a few words in!
"Look at you, making changes..how in the multiverse have you managed to do something like that?" Nightmare raises a browbone, his single eyelight meeting your opposing eye.
"I don't really know, to tell you the truth, but..I love you guys. I want to spend the rest of my life here with all of you.. no matter what that takes." "Is that so?.." "..Yeah." You smile, earning a small smile from him as well.
"Well..the others are quite fond of you. I'm sure you'll be able to live here comfortably for a very long time." "And..you? What do you think of me?" You ask, a slight amount of worry hidden in your voice. "Dearest, you should already know how I feel." He comes to a stop, raising a hand to lift your chin gently, placing his thumb over your lips. "You've stolen my heart, you little thief. You've stolen their hearts too..something I'd thought to be an impossible feat." As your face flushes even darker than before, you smile up at him as he moves his hand away, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Earning that flushed reaction you've been waiting for.
"How would you feel if I did it all over again?"
He chuckles.
"My dear.. I fear you may never be rid of us if you keep doing that." "I'm perfectly fine with that."
Once the two of you separate, Killer puts his arms around you both. "heeey, don't leave me out, lovebirds! there's still plenty of time left to have some fun!" You laugh, pressing a kiss to Killer's cheek before Nightmare tells him to stop touching him. Dust sets up the projector as you all find your spots, you sitting right in the middle so everyone can surround you. Horror sits behind you, Nightmare at your right, Dust at your left, and Killer between your legs, laying down. You gesture for Horror to lean down, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone as well.
With a satisfied grin, you turn to the blanket, watching the previews play. God, do you love your skeleton boys.
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littlespoonevan · 5 months
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I watched the first three seasons of 911 back when that was all that had aired and just didn’t keep watching after the break between seasons for whatever reason. I also didn’t really get buddie, I just thought it was a beautiful friendship. I’m now on a rewatch and just got to the end of season 4 and boy am I all in, Buck’s reaction to Eddie getting shot and the aftermath really made me get it. Anyway, I was wondering if you have any fic recs for a buddie newbie? I’m probably gonna speed through the rest of the show in a few days and need something else to occupy me hahah
hey bud, welcome back to the world of 911!! 🥰 okay so i have some previous fic recs that i've posted here and i also have 489 bookmarks on ao3 which you can have a scroll through here (i only ever bookmark something for rereading or reccing purposes so can confirm i've read and loved them all)
but i'll do my best to make a somewhat cohesive list below of some of my personal faves. i have no doubt i'll probably leave some out accidentally but they'll definitely be in my bookmarks so 100% check those out too!! ❤️
The Nearness of You by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure
Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it. Or: Buck and Eddie go on a work trip.
Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania / @hmslusitania
“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.
To Build a Home We Deconstruct Our Rituals by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels /@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
After the shooting, Eddie realizes he needs to put some things in place. Like who will get his assets if he dies. Who will speak for him if he ends up in a coma. What might happen if his family contests Buck's guardianship. Luckily, he's got a simple easy-peasy solution that won't result in insanity, catastrophe, or heartbreak: Marry Buck.
standing on the brink of emptiness by woodchoc_magnum / @woodchoc-magnum
In which Eddie is struggling in the aftermath of being shot, learning how to take care of himself and realising he's in love with Buck; and Buck is dating Taylor, taking care of Eddie and Christopher and trying to figure out why he's so goddamn confused about everything.
across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by catchingpapermoons 
“We’re working on it,” Maddie explains, shooting Chimney a look. He nods seriously. “In couples therapy.” “Huh,” Eddie says, and then he thinks about it. "Do you think Buck and I would benefit from couples therapy?" — or, Eddie gets Buck to come to couples therapy with him.
darling, the future's better than yesterday by rarakiplin (gmontys)
Eddie, ten years younger, in this awful 2010, blinks up at him. He's still sitting slumped on the curb, and for a second Buck thinks he might tell him to fuck off, but then his eyes fall shut and there’s something — aching and painfully vulnerable in the bend of his mouth, the faint tension in his brow. “My…um, girlfriend, I guess. She’s pregnant.” “Holy shit,” Buck says. - or, buck deals with some wonky dimensional/time travel and then breaks up with his girlfriend. eddie, obviously, is involved.
i'm here (i’m yours for the taking) by farfromthstars / @buckactuallys
“Everyone!” Around forty heads turn, and Buck shifts on his feet uncomfortably at the attention. “This is my old friend Buck and his husband, Eddie.” “Uh,” Buck makes, turning to Eddie with wide eyes. Eddie's looking just as stunned. “Connor, I think you got–” He cuts himself off when Eddie wraps an arm around his waist. ~ at the winter wedding of an old friend, buck and eddie pretend to be married to each other. the plan has no weaknesses, obviously, not even mistletoe or anyone’s secret feelings… they call it the season of giving i'm here, i'm yours for the taking
Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.
no kingdom to come by waywardrenegades
Family, FaceTime, guilt trips, phone calls, church, heart healthy meals, and learning how to let yourself be happy. Whatever that looks like. or; when his father experiences a health scare, Eddie flies to El Paso.
when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) by catchingpapermoons 
Buck walks toward Jee-Yun’s room, still talking, and Christopher trails after him, asking excited questions in response, and Eddie’s smile grows. He wants this forever. Everything, every part of it; Buck, Christopher, and him—that’s all he needs. And— Oh. Oh no. He shuts his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. He’s looking at Buck, and feeling something strictly not platonic at all. or: Eddie needs to learn how to let himself feel, and one step at a time, he learns how to do just that. (And he falls in love with Buck along the way.)
i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove / @hattalove
She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.
everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths / @bucktommys
LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane. buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.
said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by hattalove
“I think,” he says, watching Karen pull Hen out onto the dance floor, their eyes never leaving each other’s, “I think I’m just—sad.” Maybe. That feels like a close enough word to describe this gaping maw right in the center of his chest. It’s only really there sometimes, taking little bites out of him, easy enough to ignore, but today is worse. “About being single at a wedding,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shrugs. “Sounds stupid when you put it that way.” or, the one with the four weddings (feat. a drunk karen wilson, shania twain, a single cheerio, and some confessions over cubed fruit).
cause i'm tired of sleeping alone by rarakiplin (gmontys)
Buck goes on dates now. Not often, and never with the same girl twice in a row, but he goes on dates. And the thing is — the thing is, Eddie can’t be mad about that, because he goes on dates too. - or, five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other
so far from being free by allisonRW96
"That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible. But even if Buck was capable of doubting Maddie, the truth of her confession is evident in the way it throws every facet of his childhood into sudden perfect clarity. That yawning, arctic absence. The unnamable fear. The impenetrable target of his parents’ approval that he was never, ever going to be able to hit. That they didn’t want him to hit. He has a brother. A dead brother who has haunted Buck’s steps for his entire life."
don't let the tide come and wash us away by writerforlife
Buck develops a relationship with the ocean, avoids talking about the day Eddie was shot, realizes he might be in love, and drives. Order may vary. (a fic for the "Buck is going to break all the way down in season 6" truthers)
dance, for all that we've been through by catchingpapermoons 
The Los Angeles Ballet’s 2022-2023 season ends with a bang with their fresh take on a ballet staple, Swan Lake. Artistic Director Bobby Nash is in his eighth season with the Los Angeles Ballet, and it has flourished under his direction. However, his associate, Eddie Diaz, is the one whose reimagining of the choreography has caught our attention... (or, Eddie Diaz moves to L.A. to restart his dance career, and ends up choreographing a show, finding a family, and falling in love. Not necessarily in that order.)
I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other. When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other.
never felt this way before (yes i swear) by withoutthetiger
It’s the summer of 2022, when Buck no longer wants to be called Evan, and it only occurs to his parents to mind. It’s after the pandemic – or so they say – and before whatever hell will befall the world next, when Buck can’t wait to join the LAFD in September, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever meet someone as gently strong and fiercely protective as his big sister. It’s the summer he goes with his family to the One Eighteen Ranch & Lodge. *** A Dirty Dancing AU, set in Texas in 2022, featuring a whole lot of familiar faces in a not so familiar place.
Fragile lines (and wasted time) by Mellaithwen / @mellaithwen
“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin. But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed. “I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed. . While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.
Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania
“You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.
keep your eyes on the road by iriswests / @fcntasmas
Buck used to speed through yellow lights; now they’re his favorite part of the drive. -- or; a glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light
Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston
The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. +++ [Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)
as lucky as us by hammersmiths
One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.
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remember-the-fanfics · 7 months
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Part two of last post
-
To be fair (Y/n) didn't have trouble for the next month, with the extermination happening, they guess Timothy actually did find a hole to die in.
They would guess wrong when he showed up with friends, who thought it would be a good idea to burn the hotel down with people inside it.
Man, this dude just keeps coming up with bad ideas.
Alastor caught them in time and stopped them while allowing everyone to get up and see the who and the what, Angel Dust, being the first one outside, saw Timothy face and quickly realized the why.
"You!" Said Angel Dust, getting Alastor interest.
"Do you know this not so fine fellow?"
"He came in like a week or so before you showed up, wanted (Y/n) to break the deal they just made with him because he's a lazy asshole." Said Angel Dust just when Vaggie and Charlie showed up.
"Why did you come get us? I would have shown this estúpido not to come back." Said Vaggie with her spear, ready to hurt someone.
"Or offer to join the hotel instead?" Said Charlie, pushing Vaggie's spear down.
"I-I would have loved too if that bastard offered, they just threatened me to leave!"
"They did! He said he wasn't doing this rainbow shit." Said Angel Dust "and they only threatened you after you insulted me!"
"Can we stab them?" Asked Niffty, showing up on Husk shoulder with (Y/n).
"Who are we-." Said (Y/n) before seeing who it was. "Oh."
"You bitch!" Said Timothy, his friends had joined in on the insults as well.
"Quiet." Said Alastor, making all of them shut up. "What should we do with-."
Timothy with a knife went for the closest person, Angel Dust, that he could reasonably kill or injure, (Y/n) didn't ask and he wasn't in anyway to talk later. As quick as he tried, (Y/n) got in the way.
"M̶o̶t̸h̴e̷r̶f̴u̶c̶k̷e̸r̷." They said, grabbing his arm that held the knife and holding him back from anyone.
"Now." Said Timothy, confusing (Y/n) for a second until they saw each of his friends had a weapon.
Everyone was sleeping, they were prepared for a fight, only Alastor could take on these sinners and maybe Vaggie with her spear.
(Y/n) needed to do something! Do something, do something, do something-!
Then (Y/n) didn't remember the rest.
-
"I'll keep you safe!" A much younger human version of (Y/n) said,
"I know." Said Someone, (Y/n) couldn't look them in the face anymore.
°°•°
"I kept you... safe." Said a slightly older version of (Y/n). They had so much blood on them, until then (Y/n) didn't know humans had that much blood in them.
"No no no, stay awake, (Y/n)!" Said the Someone, obviously trying to keep them focus and awake.
"I love you... more than anything."
"(Y/n) please-!"
'I love you more than anything, you know that?'
Was what (Y/n) trying to say.
••°•
"(Y/N)!" Said someone else, bring (Y/n) back to what they were doing. They looked around to see Timothy or what was left of him on the ground, in peices, and (Y/n) did not expect to see that much gore.
"Ew, thats not cash money to see.." They said before looking at themselves and getting the conclusion that they were the reason Timothy became a crime scene. "..What exactly happen?"
"You ripped his arm off!" Said Angel Dust, laughing nervously because how could (Y/n) not remember that. "Then you-."
"Ripped him to sheds while Alastor dealt with the rest! You kept making him into smaller and smaller peices!" Said Niffty, climbing up (Y/n). "I'm so happy this happened outside, this would be a mess to clean out of the carpet."
"Are you injured?" Asked Charlie.
"I don't think so- oh God, I'm standing in it, I'm barefoot. I'm gonna take a shower and burn these clothes." Said (Y/n), moving away from the mess they made and putting Niffty down away from it.
"That was a fantastic performance, my dear! You could almost be mistaken for a stray from Cannibal town, if only you used more teeth." Said Alastor, who enjoyed the show after making the rest disappear, killed.
"Thanks, I don't usually fight like that." Said (Y/n). "Can you magic me to my room? I need a shower and to process that." They asked, pointing at the remains.
"Very well, my dear." Said Alastor, sending (Y/n) to their room to clean up. "This was unexpected way to fix the problem, yes?"
"I'm also gonna take a bath, I feel like some of it got on me." Said Angel Dust, walking away.
"I think we all need a shower after watching that." Said Husk, joining him on the walk inside with Niffty following behind.
"Never took the young one to take a hand on approach when doing something like that, well see you all in the morning!" Said Alastor before disappearing in the shadows, leaving Charlie and Vaggie alone.
"Charlie, you okay?"
"I'm fine, I'm just worried about (Y/n). We've seen them fight before, never like this. They didn't remember doing this either... I just hope they are okay." Said Charlie, Vaggie nugged Charlie's arm with her own.
"(Y/n) will be fine, they are a powerful Overlord for many reasons. They were protecting us after seeing those sinners had weapons and most of us didn't, that's a good thing." Said Vaggie, trying to cheer up Charlie.
"Like a redeeming good thing!" Said Charlie. "Minus all the gore that happened!"
"Exactly, now let's go inside and take a shower please."
"Oh definitely. That got everywhere."
-
Ta dah! Slightly longer but lore about (Y/n)! They died protecting someone they care about, the why and how they actually died from is unclear for now.
I've had it in my head for weeks now on how they died, can't really spoil anything though.
I also plan for most things I write in my head and I was trying to get (Y/n) to kill the man in the last part but nooo, just arguing.
Sorry to any Timothy tis the name of the letter I typed first.
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of-a-chaotic-mind · 1 month
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Star Stickers
Summary: Buck & Tommy devise a plan to cheer you up since you haven’t been sleeping well due to insomnia. 
TW/CW: Evan Buckley & Tommy Kinard x Platonic!Reader, Fluff, Insomnia, Self Doubt
Requested?: No   
Word Count: 2,941 
A/N: Ngl this was entirely inspired by my desire to have someone in my life who surprises me with gold star stickers, that desire was inspired by a text post on here that says “I’m a gold star bisexual. The gold star has nothing to do with my bisexuality, I’ve just been very good today & I deserve it.” Anyway, hope you enjoy the fluff. Much love to all! Requests are Open! 
P.S. I just want a couple of gay besties that let me be a child every now & then... is that too much to ask?
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--- Your POV --- 
     As I hop down out of the fire truck and trudge up the stairs to the coffee maker, Buck lovingly greets his boyfriend Tommy who has stopped by for lunch before they follow me up. In my sleep deprived and pissed at life state, I completely miss any and all other interactions. Truth be told the only reason I even noticed Tommy is here is because he ruffled my hair when I passed them. 
     I'm pouring what feels like my thousandth cup of coffee since breakfast this morning when Buck leans against the counter beside me, "How many cups of coffee is that today? I think you've set a new record." 
     From the table, Eddie looks up and raises his own mug of coffee, "Uh uh, I've got that record set at seven," before going back to his phone. 
     I roll my eyes, "This is number eight, Eddie. Nice try." He only shakes his head and takes another sip. 
     Leaning against the counter across from me, Tommy's eyes nearly pop out of his skull, "(Y/N)... that's way too much coffee for one day."
     I shrug and make my way over to plop down on a couch and drop my head back to rest on the cushions. I am soon joined by Buck beside me and Tommy who takes a seat on the coffee table. I pout at him which makes him chuckle, "What are you pouting about?" 
     I playfully stomp my feet a couple times, "I was gonna put my feet there." 
     Buck nudges me, "Just do what I do," before propping his feet up on Tommy's thigh. I look at Buck's boots and then mine before shrugging and resting mine on Tommy's knee. Tommy simply shakes his head and they strike up a conversation. 
     Before long, Cap is calling us all to the table to eat. As soon as I sit down, I flop my head over onto my forearms. To my right, Eddie sighs, "Why haven't you been sleeping?" 
     Without lifting my head, I shrug, "Between working doubles, insomnia, and noisy neighbors I just can't." 
     To my left, on the other side of Buck, Tommy tuts, "Do I need to dope you up with Benadryl?" 
     I lift my head finally as Buck scoops food onto a plate in front of me, "Please don't. I still owe the hat man money and even with all these doubles I can't pay him yet." Everyone at the table shakes their heads this time. They all know how bad my insomnia gets at times, so they're pretty familiar with my sleep deprived state. What they're not familiar with is the thoughts that keep me awake at night and create a void that should be filled by sleep. I always just blame the insomnia on something less concerning. 
--- Third Person POV --- 
     That evening as Buck and Tommy make their way into their apartment, Buck is concerned, "Do you think there's anything we could do to help (Y/N)?"  
     "Well, she vetoed my suggestion of Benadryl, so not really," Tommy responds as he shuffles through the mail in his hands. 
     Buck wanders off to the bedroom to change, raising his voice a bit so Tommy can hear him, "No, I know we can't really help with the insomnia. Me and Eddie already tried. I mean to like cheer her up." 
     Tommy enters the room as Buck is exiting to make dinner, "I don't know. Did you have something in mind?" 
     Buck is still thinking, tomatoes on the cutting board in front of him, when Tommy joins him in the kitchen. Saying nothing, Tommy grabs a knife from the knife block, holding it out in front of his distracted boyfriend. Buck snaps to and takes the knife to begin cutting up the tomatoes, "I can't really think of anything. I was hoping you had some suggestions." Tommy retrieves two beers from the fridge, cracking them both open before leaning against the counter beside Buck to take a sip of one, placing the other beside the cutting board. He takes a few more sips as he thinks.  
     Tommy has noticed how similar you and Buck are in the somewhat short time he's known you. He's noticed that a lot of the things that spark Buck's interest also spark yours and how you both get excited over similar things. He has an idea of where to start, "What's something that would instantly brighten your mood on a rainy day?" 
     Buck grins, "Seeing my hot pilot boyfriend but I don't think that would cheer (Y/N) up as much as it would me." 
     Tommy chuckles, shaking his head, "No, silly, something someone could give you or do for you," he clarifies, quickly adding, "regardless of who it is and something we could also do for (Y/N)." Buck is quiet for a moment before mumbling something that Tommy can't quite make out, "Baby, speak up please." 
     Buck takes a deep breath and sets the knife down. He turns to Tommy as he picks up his beer and takes a sip before repeating, "Gold stars." 
     Slightly surprised, Tommy tilts his head, "What do you mean?" 
     Buck smiles wide, "When I was little Maddie used to give me little gold star stickers whenever I did well on a homework assignment or test, even for not-so-great grades like Bs and Cs. I always kept the stickers because for some reason they made me feel really happy and proud." 
     Tommy is unsure, "So, you're suggesting we give our friend, who's a grown woman mind you, gold star stickers to cheer her up?" 
     Tomatoes forgotten, Buck sets his beer back down and insists, "Yes! She'd love it, I swear. One time on a callout she was taking care of a little girl while her mom was being bandaged up. The little girl was coloring the whole time and chatting to (Y/N) about what she was coloring and all kinds of other stuff.” Tommy has to dodge as Buck talks with his hands, “When it came time to leave, the little girl ran up to us as we were heading back to the truck. (Y/N) squatted down to see what she needed and the little girl stuck a unicorn sticker to her shirt pocket and then yelled, 'Thank you' as she ran back to her mom. I've never seen (Y/N) smile that big before."  
     Tommy thinks he's done but before he can even open his mouth to respond, Buck gasps, "And remember that time a bunch of us went to the beach? She had been wandering up and down the sand randomly picking stuff up and then when Maddie yelled at her to see if she wanted to go get ice cream, she ran over to us and was super excited to show us all the sea glass and shells she had collected in her shirt." 
     Tommy decides to make sure this time, "You done?" 
     Buck thinks for a second, placing his hands on his hips, "That depends. Are you convinced that we should stop and get gold star stickers before you drop me off at work in the morning?" 
     Tommy laughs as he answers, "Yes, Evan. We can stop and get gold star stickers in the morning."  
     The next morning, Buck directs Tommy to a local craft store where he had recently helped Chris buy stuff for a school art project. The two make their way inside but have to ask for help finding the stickers. Tommy chooses to ignore the judgmental look on the little old lady's face since Buck very clearly misses it, too busy craning his neck to see if he can spot what they came for. She leads them toward the back of the store and points down an aisle full of stickers. Tommy notices her shake her head as she walks away but is quickly distracted by the golden retriever stuck inside his 6' 2", muscular, firefighter boyfriend. 
     Tommy smiles brightly as he watches Buck make his way down the aisle, scanning for and collecting any sticker packs with shiny stars in them. When he returns to Tommy, bouncing with excitement, his hands are full of different sticker packs that he shuffles through to show him, "Which ones do you think she'd like most?" There's all different sizes and colors of stars, some have other sticker shapes mixed in; others are very clearly marketed toward teachers who use them to reward young students.  
     Tommy places his hands over Buck's to stop his indecisive shuffling, "Let's start by eliminating any that aren't just stars." Buck shuffles through and hands the rejected packs to Tommy who quickly puts them back where they belong. When he returns, Buck has tucked a few packs under his arm and is staring back and forth at the three remaining packs in his hands. 
     "Whatcha got?" Tommy asks looking down at the stickers. He finds that Buck is trying to decide between a pack that has only gold stars in varying sizes, a pack that has rainbow-colored stars that are all the same size, and a pack that has different pastel-colored glittery stars in a few different sizes.  
     "Yeah no," he says as he gently removes the glitter stars from Buck's choices and places them back where they belong. He knows you'd kill them for giving you the craft herpes that is glitter and to him you don't really seem like the pastel type. When he turns around to rejoin him, Buck is already heading toward the front.  
     When he finally catches up to Buck, he's handing both the gold and rainbow packs to a younger cashier who smiles brightly when she sees them, "Aw these are cute! Are you getting them for your kid?" 
     Buck laughs softly, "Uh no, just- just trying to brighten up a friend's day." She smiles at him and nods as she rings them up. She gives him the total as Buck taps his card on the pin pad. Once the receipt shoots out and Buck collects the stickers, the two make their way back to the Jeep to head to the 118, deciding that Buck could hang onto the gold stars and Tommy could man the rainbow stars. Somehow, they still make it there before you. 
--- Your POV ---
     After yet another night of tossing and turning, I trudge into the fire house like a zombie looking for brains, except I just want coffee. I make my way to the locker room, change clothes, and head upstairs b-ling straight for the coffee maker. My path is blocked by Buck and Tommy who are both leaning on the counter in front of the wonderful machine of caffeinated goodness with their arms crossed looking like they were expecting me. I join them and attempt to shove them out of my way but they won't budge. Instead, Buck turns his back toward me and pours coffee into a mug before facing me again and holding it out to me. 
     I take it gratefully and enjoy a sip before they both reach up and stick something to my forehead. Bewildered, I look up toward my hairline before deciding I don't have it in me to give a shit right now. I plop into one of the chairs at the table, stickers still on my forehead, and drop my chin into my palm. "Did you get-" Eddie looks up from his phone and grins. His eyes cut behind me where Tommy and Buck are approaching, "Who's idea was that?" he asks pointing at my forehead. 
     Tommy takes a seat beside me, sipping his own cup of coffee, "Let's see, maybe the one who can't sit still," he smiles as he points his thumb behind us at Buck who is bouncing on the balls of his feet, "because he's too excited to see her reaction when she sees them." 
     I look back at Buck whose smile is so big it looks painful. Sighing I pull my phone out and open the camera. There I find two stars on my forehead; one is rainbow and the other is slightly bigger and gold. I can't help but smile so big it probably matches Buck's as I look back at him again. He does a little happy dance before getting very close to Tommy's face, "I told you she'd like them." I quickly snap a photo in which you can clearly see the two stars on my forehead as well as Buck and Tommy, who are still in very close proximity, smiling at each other before putting my phone away. Soon a conversation picks up as Buck sits down on the other side of me.  
     At some point I decide that I need to find some paper to keep my stars on because I can't exactly walk around all day with my face covered in stickers, Buck has added two more since the first two. I also can't bring myself to just throw them away either. Having no luck elsewhere I make my way to Bobby's office and knock softly. He answers and when I open the door, he laughs, "Whatcha got there?" 
     I look up toward the stars and smile, "Gifts from Buck and Tommy. I was wondering if I could have a piece of paper to put them on."  
     Bobby nods, handing me a sheet of printer paper, "Of course," and as I turn to leave, peeling the stars from my forehead and placing them on their new home, he adds, "It's good to see you smiling again (Y/N)." 
     I give him a big smile, "Thanks, Cap." 
     A little while later, Tommy is heading out to go grocery shopping and clean up their apartment. Eddie and I follow as Buck is walking Tommy out. Tommy stops when he notices me. He backtracks to me as he pulls his sticker pack out of his back pocket. After placing a new sticker on the tip of my nose, he hands the pack to Eddie, "Hit her when she least expects it." Eddie nods, watching as I remove the sticker from my nose and add it to my collection with a big smile on my face. Tommy ruffles my hair before rejoining Buck at the door and heading out. 
     Throughout the rest of the day, Buck and Eddie take their sticker duties very seriously. At one point, from upstairs I notice them over by the engine whispering to each other. When they catch me watching, Eddie sassily shoos me away with sticker pack in hand making Buck laugh heartily. Not long after that, I am bombarded by not one, not two but six star stickers. Each one from a different member of the team.  
     After a particularly grueling call out, I sit with my head leaned against the window. In my peripheral, I notice Buck and Eddie make eye contact and nod at each other before both of them reach in their pockets, pick out a sticker, and slap them both on my forehead. Every chance they can, they are stickering me. I walk around the corner coming from the bathroom, sticker. I pour myself a cup of coffee, sticker. I'm helping Hen take inventory in the ambulance, sticker. Every single sticker makes me smile. 
     By the time Tommy arrives to pick Buck up that evening, I'm pretty sure Buck and Eddie are both out of stickers and my printer paper is getting full. As we are walking to our vehicles, Buck rushes over to meet Tommy, who is leaning against the door of his jeep, before we can and whispers something to him. Tommy's face breaks into a big smile. I'm dropping my bag into the passenger seat of my Bronco when Tommy places what feels like a big sticker right in the middle of my forehead, "Buck said he saved the biggest one for me since I wasn't here all day like they were." 
     I grin and look around at my three friends, "Thank you guys. You genuinely made my day," I look down at the paper in my hands as I peel the newest star off my forehead and place it with the others, "I don't think you realize how much this means to me."  
     Tommy ruffles my hair, "Anytime, kiddo. Besides, I don't think you realize how much joy this whole thing has brought Evan." We both look at Buck who is grinning as wide as humanly possible.  
     Buck pulls me into a hug, "If you ever need a star sticker day again, just say the word." I nod as he pulls away. 
     Eddie places his hand on my shoulder, "He's being dead serious." 
     I laugh, "I know. I will." With that, the four of us are parting ways and heading home. On my way home, all I can think about is how happy I am to have such amazing people in my life. Often, the most prominent insomnia inducing thought at night is that of loneliness. I've spent hours lying awake at night wondering if I actually have people who care about me or if they just let me hang around because they pity me. I wonder if I even deserve to have them around. After a day full of stickers, I truly believe that my team genuinely cares about me. Why else would Buck and Tommy get up early to buy star stickers before work? Why would Cap smile so big just because I'm smiling. Why would everyone get such a kick out of getting to put a sticker on my face? They care about me and I care about them. They mean the world to me. They are my stars. 
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incarnadin3 · 1 month
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How Obey Me Brothers realized they were in love with MC: Part Seven, Belphegor
A/N: I'm gonna post this one before Satan and break the order because I have no clue what to write for him, and I originally started this series after thinking about Belphie being in love while being in the (you guessed it) shower. I feel like his is one of the easier ones because of what happened between him and MC and then Lilith. Another reason why Beel's is also really easy to write (hint hint). Also, unlike stated, Lilith doesn't actually hate Belphie, that's a figment of his imagination, and his hate for sloth isn't factual (I think?) that's just for plot. Anyways sorry if there's mistakes, for some reason autocorrect does not want to work. Enjoy~
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Belphegor: The Catnapping Seventhborn
Being youngest meant that one could get away with a lot of things, but how could one get away with guilt?
There were only two things that Belphie felt guilt for. Killing you, and being the one that was saved during the Celestial War. Each day, when he looks at himself in the mirror, he sees a demon, full of sloth, and weakness. He looks at Beel's muscles, and wishes he had them too. Whenever he looks at himself in the mirror, he only sees the self-loath. Why couldn't he have had been stronger? If only he was strong enough to save himself during the war, then Beel wouldn't have had to choose between him and Lilith. Hell, he could have saved her. Now, her shadow stands behind him in the mirror, a look of pure hatred on her face.
One might look at Belphie and think, "Man, that's a demon who loves sleep". But no, Belphie hated his sin. It reminded him of his failure to be strong enough to save Lilith and himself.
He hated sleeping. Sure, his powers allowed him to control dreams, but what if his own powers want him to remind him of all his lacking qualities.
One doesn't think much of sleeping positions, and certainly no one batted an eye to Belphie sleeping. Not even his own twin knew when Belphie went into a nightmare. All he wished was that someone could shake him awake, hug him, and take care of him. But no-one noticed the signs that he needed comfort.
Belphie's sleeping positions went as such:
Splayed out - he was in a cozy dream, usually including you as a side character along with his brothers
Big spooning his pillow - in a dream with you (often times a date or a wet dream)
Little spooning his pillow - comfort dream where you reassures him that you didn't have him for killing you
And lastly, curled up - dream of the moment where Lilith died or you dying in Mammon's arms
No one, not even his twin knew that he still had these dreams, or what each position meant. He didn't think you even cared as long as you slept next to him. But today he got proven wrong.
Today was just like any other Saturday morning, full of chaos. On one had, Mammon was microwaving his frozen credit card, Goldie, and on the other, Lucifer was running around yelling, after a certain someone mixed bleach into his shampoo, making him look like a splitting image of his son/brother, Satan. Tired of the chaos, Belphie decided to steal a couple bites before slinking away back to his room, making sure to close his door tightly and hide the empty bleach bottle in case Lucifer and Satan joined forced in finding the culprit and burn down the HoL. Sinking into his bed, sleep took him within
The dream started like no other, Belphie big spooning his pillow as he dreamt of dragging you with him into the attic for a romantic date. But that's when things took a turn.
Belphie curled tighter as in his dream the two of you walked into the attic to see blood staining the wall. As Belphie reached for you in the dream, his hand touched a cold one. As he turned, he saw you, floating like a ghost, pale white, still in the clothes you died in, dried blood on your skin as you stared at him, and said in a gravelly voice, "You!"
"You killed me! I hate you!"
Belphie curled into a ball as he reached for you once again in the dream, as your hair fell into your face, (sorry to my bald MCs) obscuring your face from view.
As he reached out to push the hair away, to his horror, instead of your face, Lilith's angelic face greeted him, smiling, as your, or rather her body began to glow. Her smile turned sharper, as she reached into a hidden pocket in her angelic dress, and pulled out a sharp knife made of diamonds.
Belphie's face paled as he curled into the tightest ball ever, trembling as Lilith raised the knife and screamed.
"First you cause my death and then you kill my descendant?! I'll kill you!"
As the knife shot towards his chest, he snapped out of the dream, sweating as he gasped for air, his entire frame being shook by someone. He turned to see you, a concerned smile on your face as you wipe away his sweat, hugging him tightly and rocking him back and forth.
He doesn't know what takes him over at that moment, but he crumples into the embrace, his usual aloof personality being thrown out of the window.
"Shh its ok. I forgive you. And so does Lilith."
"H-huh? How'd you know I was dreaming of that?"
"I could tell by the way you were sleeping."
Never in his centuries of existence had anyone bothered to take notice of how he slept and correlate it with his dreams. Hell, it was a fucking milestone if someone even bothered to ask how he slept. But for you to tell what his dreams were about without him telling you, and comforting him? He felt like an angel all over again.
As the two of you laid down, him being big spooned by you, he relaxed, never once dreaming of Lilith and you dying ever again.
Guilt is often a crippling thing, and in the human world, it can even end lives. Belphie didn't go as far as that, but with you around, his brothers were shocked to see a smile on his face.
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kevinsdsy · 3 months
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THE TROJANS SOCIAL MEDIA AU HEADCANONS pt. 1
laila dermott
laila dermott is muslim!! i've had this headcanon since i read the king's men for the first time in 2019 hehe and now is my time to push it.
nabil & laila are besties. they're both muslim and both in same-sex relationships which leads to them having an understanding of each other like no one else on the team could have with them.
ntm laila fr was his standing pillar when he was figuring out his sexuality
nabil mahmoud
nabil is gay!! which is something he really had to deal with and accept due to him being muslim too (bc what am i without the religious trauma due to sexuality lore)
nabil and tony are dating each other in the socmed au!! even without the au i would like to believe and headcanon there's something happening there :))
i've written a bit more about them in another headcanon post tho.
antonio "tony" jones
tony is what like a year or two older than the rest? he's an assistant and i'm not sure how old they're supposed to be in the book tbh so i would like to think it's possible or he's an intern (i love him being an intern either way tho so i'm very much leaning into that one)
jeremy knox
JEREMY KNOX USED TO PLAY FOOTBALL (soccer), but due to him playing so aggressively and due to him always being guilty of too many fouls he switched to exy :))
cody winter
cody doesn't know what sleep is and they don't care to find out. they're living on like 2 to 4 hours a sleep a night and surprisingly enough it works for them too.
cody is also SUPER competitive which is why they have managed to be part of the captain gc. their competiteviness has led to them pushing the backliners as much as cody can and the backliners actually listen to them too.
shawn anderson
oh shawn. shawn shawn shawn.
you were supposed to be no one. a random guy on the team.
you exist to me now. i feel like i could make a whole post about just him atp.
shawn was supposed to be comedic relief for the posts i felt were too out of character for the rest of the team LMAOO, but now he actually has a personality (to me)
shawn works a part time shop at a café. even though he's surrounded by coffee at all times and drinks so much of it he's the sleepiest guy to ever exist.
like that man gets about 8 hours a sleep every day and still takes nap, but still ends up with bags under his eyes.
he's always tired for some reason and everyone is so used to it atp. like he will ALWAYS sleep on the bus/airplane, no matter how long the drive/flight is.
but when he's finally awake he's so hyper. he says the silliest things. repeats the same phrases over and over again and has about zero filter.
most of the time the zero filter has to do with the fact he speaks before he thinks. it even catches himself off guard sometimes.
i feel like this is too long and we haven't even gotten into jean and shawn dynamic so i'm just gonna cut it off here and they’ll get another part i think
derrick allen
bro we don't even know who derrick is, but apparently he's someone to me now too.
this man has crazy attachment issues, but is also the biggest simp for shawn too.
he likes going around kissing shawn and making out with shawn, but whenever shawn mentions something serious derrick acts like it's just a joke. which i guess is easy to do, because shawn is always treating everything as a joke anyways. except he's really not trying to when it comes to derrick.
jean falls victim to shawn ranting and crying about derrick. so jean respectfully ignores derrick til he gets his shit together.
and i just realised i have SO MUCH to say about derrick and shawn too so let me cut myself off.
derek thompson
same as shawn and derrick. derek is supposed to be a no one, but here i am and suddenly derek is being perceived by me too
SOOO derek was supposed to be like the third party with derrick and shawn. it was supposed to be the three of them flirting and making out and being little shits but then y'all were asking about derrick & shawn and i decided yk what let's do it. then later the short oneshot was written by oomf and derek got mentioned as the one shawn is in love with and i was like oh... i fucked up the dynamic. but in another universe it would've been the three of them ig
ANYWAYYSS derek takes medication. i haven't really decided on what kind of medications, but while thinking about him i always imagined either depression or adhd or both idk
and i have so many more headcanons for the au, but this is too long so i´ll post part 2 another time :))
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storywriter007 · 5 months
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I Still Do - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader
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summary: in which y/n meets a familiar face after a long time
warnings: cursing, toxicity, heartbreak
genre: angst
word count: 930
-> heroes of olympus masterlist
✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒
tossing and turning in her bed, y/n met another sleepless night. she'd been trying to sleep for an hour now with no luck. memories of the past haunted her and dreams of the future preyed on her peace. y/n figured no one would be awake right now anyways, it was almost two in the morning. she snuck out of bed and made her way down to the lake.
she sat on the grass and admired the serenity of nature. the animals, the stars, the rhythm of the water. she sat there in silence and reflected.
✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒
hearing footsteps, y/n didn't turn around. she was prepared for chiron to tell her to go back to her cabin and that she was to be punished for staying out past curfew.
"what's my punishment for staying out past curfew?" she asked, mindlessly staring into the lake.
"i dunno, i'm no chiron." a deep voice responded, taking a seat next to her.
y/n chuckled, turning to face what she thought would be chiron, but was met with sea green eyes instead. it's like she froze and was thrown into the past.
"hey." percy smiled.
damn it, he still had a nice smile.
"i haven't talked to you in-"
"a while?" she guessed.
"i was going to say forever, but okay." he laughed. "how have you been?"
"pretty good. you?"
"same."
as the awkward small talk passed, y/n slowly recalled how her and percy had become such good friends in the first place. they talked about movies, shows, songs, books, and things that annoyed them. it's like she'd forgotten how much fun he was.
"yeah and then leo was all like 'i'm gonna fight you, don't play with me' and then jason stood up and he fell backwards." percy said, barely being able to communicate as he was suffocated by laughter.
y/n hadn't laughed this hard in years, well two years, really.
"i can't even remember why we stopped talking." percy said, looking at the lake.
"i can't remember either." y/n laughed. "you ever get intimidated by jason?"
"no, he's only an inch taller than me anyways, what do i have to fear?" percy smiled. "the only blonde i'm scared of is annabeth."
y/n sighed. it's like she remembered why they stopped being friends all those years ago. as bad memories came rushing back to her, she became silent.
"dude, you okay?" he asked.
"yeah, i'm fine." she smiled. "i'm just gonna leave now-"
"really?" he sighed.
"mhm." y/n said, sitting up. "nice talkin to you jackson."
"i don't get it y/n. we used to be best friends and one day a few summers ago, you went cold on me." he stated.
she just nodded, staring out into the distance.
"why?" he asked. "never talk to me again, sure. but at least tell me why."
"i've got no answer." she lied.
"liar. you don't even talk to me anymore. you avoid making eye-contact with me. you refuse to be in the same room as me without five other people there. and you've got no answer? i might be stupid, but i'm not that stupid."
"if you weren't that stupid, you would've sure as hell figured it out by now."
"i just want to know why." he sighed.
"i told you. i don't know." she persisted.
"just say it." he pressed.
"i don't know."
"just say it." he pushed again.
"i don't know." she said, beginning to get annoyed with him.
"just say it!" he said loudly.
"i'm leaving." she said, getting up.
"y/n! just tell me!" percy got up and followed.
"because i was in love with you!" she turned around and blurted.
silence fell amongst them.
"what?" he asked.
"because we were good friends, and i thought you cared about me. i mean we ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. we binged countless halloween movies. we played outside all the time. a-and you stuck up for me when annabeth said shit to me. and i thought i you liked me for who i was." she said, remembering all the reasons she'd fell for the man in the first place. "but then you started dating annabeth, and i couldn't stand it." she said, pausing.
he looked at her, his eyes filling with sympathy and regret.
"why didn't you say anything?" he asked.
"because, you chose her." y/n said. "what as the point of me saying anything?"
"i loved you, percy." she said, shakily. "for a long time."
"why don't you want to be friends with me anymore then?" he asked desperately. "if it's in the past, it's in the past-"
"because sometimes i feel like i still do!" you said.
suddenly, they were interrupted.
"percy, what the hell are you doing here?" a familiar voice questioned him.
y/n found herself looking at a woman with curly blonde hair and gray eyes.
"n-nothing." he said. "was jus' talking to y/n." he explained, still looking at y/n.
tension was still in the air.
"yeah, i'm uh, going to bed now too." y/n said, trying her very best to not cry.
"chiron's going to kill us, percy!" annabeth whisper-yelled.
"don't worry." y/n said. "you won't see me again." eyes locking with percy's.
"y/n-" percy called out.
but y/n had started walking back. she turned around one last time to see percy and annabeth walking away, side-by-side, hand-in-hand.
y/n walked back alone, as the only hand for her to hold was her own. y/n walked back, knowing she still did.
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