#brought to you by my son worrying that he might be gay because boys are pretty but also so are girls and what is that

[dyrewrites]

Let teenagers experiment.

Let them figure themselves out without judgement or pressure to be anything yet.

Let them have what you didn't/don't.

Let them revel in their lack of responsibility.

They're not adults, but they're not kids, and it isn't terribly fun existing in-between.

Let them be.

If you are a teenager, try to find a way to enjoy this weird time when your body hates you, your brain might want you dead, everyone is telling you what you are and what to be and even your peers are judging you mercilessly.

Find what brings you joy and cling, just fucking cling. Revel in that thing that makes you smile, no matter how much it makes those around you cringe. If it brings you joy, it is worth your time.

It's hard, but you can do it.

You'll live through it. You'll be changed, maybe a little cracked, but hopefully unbroken.

[thebestbooksaround]

This is a Buddie fic rec list where "one of them isn't a firefighter" That makes me warm and happy every time I read them <3

Part 1 || Part 2

Exploding Coffee Machines by inkinmyheartandonthepage (@inkinmyheartandonthepage) | 9k | General

Buck couldn’t be blamed for falling in love with his neighbour. He was powerless against the Diaz boys and wanted nothing more than to be swept up in their everything. Buck thought that Eddie felt the same, that their feelings of more than just being platonic best friends was mutual. Buck had been hopeful that Eddie inviting him to his boss’s house to meet his friends and co-workers meant that they were taking a step in the right direction.

A step that now Buck was going to be late for OR Buck gets burned at work and worries that he's blown his shot with Eddie when he runs late to meet his friends.

What is Love For $2000? by fayevian 17k | Mature

On the screen, the camera pans down as they introduce the contestants. Mary, on her 3rd day winning streak, is a dowdy teacher type. Center stage is occupied by a graying man with loopy handwriting named Auggie. And all the way to the right is… Evan. Damn. --- One night when Eddie can't sleep, he discovers the hottest Jeopardy contestant of all time (objectively). With the "help" of his team and his fairly good working knowledge of Twitter, they devise a plan to get Evan (from Jeopardy) to slide into Eddie's DMs. It works surprisingly well.

i like you so much (it's kinda gross) by brewrosemilk, stardustbuddie (@gayhoediaz) (@wh0re-behavi0r) | 10k | Explicit

Buck Buckley (@/firefighterbuck): @/eddiediaz I’ll never be able to tug your hair now, huh?

Eddie Diaz (@/eddiediaz): @/firefighterbuck It’s against the rules, anyway. You don’t look like a fighter, though. What situation would we be in that would make you want to tug my hair?

(Or: Eddie is an MMA fighter and Buck thirsts on twitter.)

you make the world taste better by farfromthstars (@buckactuallys) | 11k | Teen

They follow the room numbers down the hallway until the last door on the right. It’s slightly ajar, and when Eddie knocks politely, it opens further.

“Hey,” a cheerful, male voice says. “You guys are early!”

When Eddie spots the source of the voice, he nearly swallows his tongue.

The man is tall, with broad shoulders and huge arms, a sunny smile on his face that looks so genuine Eddie can’t help but smile back. There’s a splash of pink over his one eye, his hair is just the slightest bit curly, and his eyes are startlingly blue. He’s also about 80% legs, and leaning on a cane to walk.

Belatedly, Eddie remembers that he should say something too, not just stare at this guy approaching them.

“Uh,” he starts eloquently. “Sorry. This one was getting impatient at home ~ Newly arrived to LA, Eddie decides to take his son to parent/child cooking classes. The instructor is so much more than he expected

stupid people. by brewrosemilk (@gayhoediaz) | 160k | Explicit

New in Los Angeles, and having recently admitted to himself that he's gay, Eddie figures that hiring a sex worker might be a good way to keep his private life cut off from his job and his son. A way to keep things from becoming too complicated.

It works. For a while.

your dreary mondays by hammersmiths (@henswilsons) | 33k | Teen

“Wait, you need a sitter?” Chimney says. Eddie nods. “Maddie’s brother got back in town a few nights ago, he’s looking for work.”

Eddie frowns. He doesn’t know much about this mysterious brother of Maddie’s – doesn’t even really know much about Maddie, either, aside from being Chimney’s girlfriend – but he’s pretty sure every time he’s been brought up in conversation it’s not been particularly inspiring. “Is this the brother who flunked out of college because he spent all his tuition on a motorcycle?”

Chimney colours a little. “Um. No?”

or, Buck babysits Christopher and Eddie is—fine about it, actually.

one single thread of gold (tied me to you) by heartbeatdiaz (@heartbeatdiaz) | 4k | Teen

Eddie doesn't know much about Chris' science teacher, except that he's his son favorite and apparently knows everything there's to know. ( Those were Christopher's words. )

So when he enters the classroom, expecting an old man dressed nicely but a little old-fashioned as the science teacher, his whole life crashes to a halt.

"Evan?" The man who's leaning against the desk, looking at some papers, suddenly startles and looks up at Eddie with wide blue eyes.

"Holy shit," It's what the man says after spending at least a minute opening and closing his mouth. or; Eddie met Evan when he was a bartender in Peru and Eddie was on vacation with his cousins. They had a one night stand and Eddie woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a disappointed heart. Just for the same guy to end up being Chris' teacher years after.

always glad you came by foxwatson (@eddiediazes) | 5k | Teen

Buck is the incredibly kind but incredibly straight bartender at Eddie's local gay bar. Eddie is trying very, very hard not to be pathetically in love with him, and is failing miserably.

“Hey, you’re back,” Buck had said, greeting him with that sun-bright grin, and Eddie had yet again been reminded why he’d started questioning his sexuality.

“Well, I get one night off a week. And tonight I could really use the drink.”

Buck’s brow had furrowed, and he got Eddie his favorite beer without even asking again what it was. “You need to talk about it? Assuming I read you right and you’re the kind of guy who talks to a bartender instead of a therapist.”

Eddie had winced theatrically. “Ouch. That obvious, huh?”

“Hey, man, you’re the one that told me you started coming here on your coworker’s advice. Feels like something you’d get from a therapist, if you had one.”

see the stars with my morning eyes by trippedandfell (@trippedandfell) | 3k | Teen

“So,” Buck announces, sitting down between Hen and Chimney at the concessions stand. “I think Eddie’s trying to get me to sleep with him and his fiancée.”

or: Eddie calls Lucy his partner. Buck extrapolates.

walking on sunshine by fallingthorns (@fallingthorns) | 5k | Teen

“Shut up,” Buck grumbles at the dog. “It’s not a crush.”

Buck walks out of the room, out the backdoor, and into the yard, trying to ignore his large and judgmental dog following behind him.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Buck tells him as he gets the hose out to start watering his plants. “Keep it to yourself.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Buck startles and drops the hose, doing a quick 180-degree turn and coming face-to-face with Eddie. He’s clearly standing on something, elbows folded over the top of the fence and chin resting on them as he looks at Buck. His expression looks almost fond and it kind of makes Buck want to both preen and die of embarrassment. -- Or, the one where Buck owns a doggy daycare, has a large dog with an attitude, and is hopelessly in love with his new neighbor.

Under Any Roof by moncuries (@moncuries) | 10k | Teen

Eddie Diaz does not need a noisy neighbor on top of all the shit he's trying to work out.

But he does make really good mac and cheese. -- “You know,” And Buck is meeting his eyes now. They’re uncannily blue. Like Kool-Aid or popsicles. “If you want, I could show you what I get up to up there?”

What? WHAT? Eddie feels heat spread from the tips of his ears to his toes. No way had he just gotten propositioned before sunrise in the decrepit hallway of their apartment building. “Um. No.” He backs up until his calves brush the door to 101. “Thank you, really. But no.”

my house of stone, your ivy grows by stayeven (@demieddie) | 7k | Mature

When Eddie resigns himself to buying sex toys in person—despite the popularity of online ordering now—he expects to be embarrassed and overwhelmed. What he doesn't expect is to leave with a crush on the employee with captivating blue eyes.

and we can stay all day by trippedandfell (@trippedandfell) | 3k | Teen

“So let me get this straight,” Hen says, once she’s stopped laughing at him. “Your nerd crush-

“-Evan Buckley,” Eddie miserably interjects.

“Your nerd crush,” Hen repeats, waggling her eyebrows. At the kitchen table beside her, Chimney is grinning like Christmas just came early. “Read your drunk tweet and then sent you animal facts via DM?”

or: Buck's a zoologist. Eddie's pretty sure he's in love.

[francesminos-tt]

A CuriousCat prompt fill of Joffron being half brothers. Warning: might not be the half brother you are thinking of.

Imagine this.

You were named after your gay dad’s ex, who was killed by a drunk driver on his way to attend the wedding of your gay dad and your bisexual mom. You never had the chance to really know your gay dad because he died shortly after you were born. You had two older brothers, who loved you very much and you loved them back, but you learned that the three of you might not be the biological children of your gay dad on your fifth birthday. You was so shocked that you knocked off your birthday cake and cried yourself to sleep that night. Not that you wanted to be the biological child of your gay dad or anything, but at least they could choose another day to tell you (To be fair, it was brought up by Uncle Aegon).

Your mom remarried shortly afterwards, giving you a very cool stepdad and two beautiful stepsisters from your stepdad’s previous marriage. You liked Daemon, and somehow, he liked you too. He treated you like his own, even after your two little half-brothers were born. You looked after Aeg and Vis, pleased that you were no longer the baby in the family. Your life was getting better, despite the dramatics of the whole biological/moral/legal dad thing. You were even comfortable enough to joke about it in school, and no one dared to mess with you because they were all scared of Daemon.

All things considered, Joffrey Velaryon Targaryen’s life was going pretty well. He was a freshman of King’s Landing College on a football scholarship, majoring in Computer Science (yes, he was not all muscle and no brain gym bro, thank you very much). He had made some friends in class and in football training, and if he wanted to brag, he could say that he was selected as the hottest new face on campus this year (the voting pool was suspiciously all male).

Everything looked so promising to Joffrey until he opened the front door of his family house on an ordinary Sunday morning and was greeted by a well-groomed middle-aged man with braided silver hair and a big smile.

“Joffrey! My boy! How you have grown!” The man swept Joffrey into a bear hug, his cologne almost suffocating the boy.

“Give him a break,” Rhaenyra rushed to save her son and tried to hide Joffrey’s tall figure behind her, “you are scaring him.”

“Mom?” Joffrey looked to his mother in confusion, his baseball cap knocked askew by the man’s powerful hug, “Who’s this? Your ex? Does he want money?”

“Joff, dear, listen.” Rhaenyra looked embarrassed, which was more than enough for Joffrey to worry, “No matter what I am about to say, know that I love you, okay?”

“You are scaring me, mom.” Joffrey said honestly.

“Well, this man is my ex…” Rhaenyra paused, taking a sharp inhale before revealing the shocking news, “husband. He’s your legal dad, Laenor Velaryon.”

“What?”

“That’s right, son.” Laenor tried to swing an arm over Joffrey’s shoulder, but the boy was too tall for him to do it, “Sorry for going awol for so long.”

“But you are supposed to be dead!” Joffrey said in disbelief, “Mom told me that you were drowned when surfing!”

“Really, Nyra? Drowned when surfing?” Now was Laenor’s turn to look surprised, “Me? An Olympic level surfer?”

“What else am I supposed to tell him, Laenor? That you fucked off to Essos with your lover?”

“Hey, it was a mutual agreement. I leave, and you can marry Daemon.”

“Well, yes, but at least you could come up with your own excuse.” Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. They were bickering like a pair of old ladies who had known each other for life.

“Mom, care to explain?” Joffrey turned to Rhaenyra with a raised eyebrow, “Please don’t tell me my whole life is a lie.”

It turned out far worse than that. Joffrey, who had believed he was the son of Laenor and Rhaenyra until he was five, and then was told that in fact he was not Laenor’s son. He had believed for his whole 19 years of life that though he had never met his biological father, he had a mother who loved him very much, but this belief proved wrong today when he was revealed another shocking news about his parents.

“So you are saying, I am actually the child of dad and Mr. Harwin? Like, I am the genetic offspring of two men and you are just my surrogate mother?” Joffrey summed up the 30-minute speech he had just been told with a tone so calm that it worried Rhaenyra.

“I carried you in my body for 10 months, Joff. You are every bit of my son as well as theirs.” Rhaenyra made the boy sit down and cradled his head, “Nothing has changed, okay? If you don’t want to see your dad, I can kick him out right away. I will make sure he never shows up in front of you again if you so wish.”

The thing was, Joffrey didn't know what to wish. He always envied Jace and Luke, because not only did they remember Laenor, they had also spent several summer holidays with Mr. Harwin, who was supposed to their biological father, while Joffrey knew no father except Daemon. He had made peace with that, but the shocking news just made his will dissolve like bubbles in the sun.

“Why is he here?” Joffrey asked Rhaenyra as if he were a grumpy little boy who was determined not to look at Laenor.

“Son, I am sorry that I have been away, but trust me, it was the best way we could come up with at the time. The marriage between me and your mother was never a happy one, and you will be far better off having Daemon as a father figure than me.” Laenor spoke; he actually sounded wise this time, “I am not here to destroy your life. Consider me an addition. You can have another adult to talk to or rant at whenever you want. Hey, guess what? I can be your cool uncle, or dad, or pops, or anything else you want to call me.”

“He has some business to discuss here.” Rhaenyra told him gently, “Don't worry. He won’t stay with us. He’s just been bugging me about when he can see you, so I let him visit for a bit.”

“I would get a huge inheritance, a large seaside house and a hot half-sibling if it were a romcom movie.” Joffrey murmured, still burying his face in his mother’s bosom, but he didn't sound too distressed. He had seen enough drama in this house to be distressed by this anyway.

“Well, about that…”

————————————————————————

It turned out, Joffrey’s life was not a romcom. It was a twisted soap drama with too many coincidences to justify shit writing. For example, he learned that the business Laenor had in King’s Landing was actually getting official custody of his other mysterious son who he had left at a sept.

“You left your son at a sept? What kind of fucked up father are you?” Joffrey was so furious that he could punch Laenor’s handsome face with his bare fist.

“I had no choice! Joffrey threatened to break up with me! Not you, dear, Joffrey Lonmouth.” Laenor lifted both his hands as a surrender, “And the child’s mother didn't want him. It was a teenager mistake. I made sure to leave enough money for him!”

“He’s still going to foster care no matter how much money you left in his cradle.” Joffrey said coldly, “You can at least be a man and look after him yourself. Perhaps you and mom wouldn't even have to marry if you already had a son.”

“I know, I am a dick.” Laenor sighed, pinching his own nose bridge, “I contacted the sept where I left him, and found out that he was adopted for a while but his adopting family hasn’t really been taking care of him, so I decided to step up and be a man this time. That’s why I am here.”

“A bit too late for that.” Joffrey commented.

“I know.” Laenor replied, “I don't need redemption, but I want to make amends. I want to make amends with you too, Joffrey. I am so sorry that I have been absent all your life.”

“It sounds like your other son needs you more than me. You should start with him.” Joffrey said.

Laenor looked disappointed, because Joffrey’s words seemed like a rejection. However, as the boy‘s mother, Rhaenyra could tell that Joffrey had already forgiven Laenor. He was just too proud and stubborn to admit it.

Laenor promised that he would keep Joffrey updated with the legal process, and he did. Rhaenyra helped him find a lawyer and even attended the hearing as a character witness. The process went smoothly, and Laenor finally got full custody with the son he barely knew. Joffrey was happy for him, really, but his happiness was ruined when Laenor brought this boy to the Rhaenyra’s house to officially introduce him to the family.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Joffrey murmured to himself. It was supposed to be a whisper, but the room was so quiet that everyone heard him loud and clearly, including Aeg and Vis.

“Language, Joff!” Rhaenyra warned him, while Daemon just let out a sharp laugh.

“It’s okay, mom. We are not kids anymore, right, Aeg?” Viserys, who just celebrated his 14th birthday, winked at his 16 year-old brother.

Aegon just shrugged, too busy fiddling with his phone.

Joffrey didn't hear his mother’s warning at all. He just kept staring at this newcomer, a tall and handsome young man roughly Jace’s age, with well-groomed silver curls and a pair of light violet eyes. He wore a knit vest over a shirt, paired with jeans, casual but not too casual, relaxed but not too slack, a perfect balance between youthful and proper. He was relatively toned, if the veins on his forearm was any indication, yet he looked bookish at the same time with a pair of glasses on his nose. Just Joffrey’s type.

“You look familiar,” Lucerys commented after a while, “hey, Joff, is this the guy you disappeared with at the party?”

Joffrey tried to cover Lucerys’s mouth, but it was too late. The cat had already been out of the box.

“Disappear with?” Jace asked.

“Party?” Rhaenyra mirrored her eldest son’s frown.

Daemon laughed harder.

Joffrey didn't know what got him at this moment, but his first reaction was to jump up from his chair and took a hold of the guy’s collar, dragging him upstairs to his room and shutting the door with a loud bang.

“What the fuck?!” Joffrey shoved the guy against the wall, his fist inches away from the guy’s handsome face.

“Hello to you too.” The guy had the audacity to smile, “I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome, Joffrey.”

“You fucking knew!” Joffrey was about to punch the guy but his fist was stopped by a large and calloused palm, and the next thing he knew, their position was reserved. Now Joffrey was the one being pinned against the wall.

“You seem to only know how to say fuck today.” The guy said, tilting Joffrey’s chin up, “Are you this eager, baby? Is that why you dragged me to your room?”

“Cut the crap, Daeron.” Joffrey spat, “We’ve been fucking for what, months now? And you have never, not even once, mentioned you are my gay dad’s accidental child. How dare you!”

Daeron chuckled, one hand on Joffrey’s chin and the other roaming down the boy’s torso.

“What difference will it make?” Daeron said with a flat tone, “I never lied to you. I told you that I was brought up in a church, and adopted by a religious family before they decided to send me away to Old Town. I never felt I belonged there. I ran away as soon as I turned 18, and have been working at the bar we met ever since.”

“I thought it was your lame pickup line.” Joffrey admitted before he could stop himself.

“And who believed my lame pickup line?” Daeron couldn’t help but lean in to kiss away the small pout on Joffrey’s lips, “You are so spoiled, Joffrey. You never know what it feels like when life deals you a shitty hand.”

“Fuck you.” Joffrey tried to bite Daeron’s tongue, but the damn blonde was so quick that he failed to catch it on time, “You don't know me at all.”

“Oh, but I do know you, little brother.” Daeron licked his lips like predator in front of a prey, “I know you so well that I want to destroy you. How come you have a loving mother, a wealthy stepdad, siblings who care about you, a biological dad who wants to beg for your forgiveness, a full scholarship, a nice life and everything, while I have been neglected my whole life?”

Joffrey had no words to say to that. He realized that he was indeed lucky, when Daeron put it like that, but he didn't take anything from anyone to achieve this. He could not be punished for being lucky.

“Joffrey? Is everything all right?” Rhaenyra’s voice came through the door with a soft knock, “Don’t do anything stupid, okay? We can work this out.”

“Listen to her. We can work this out, can't we, little brother?” Daeron chuckled as his hand came down to Joffrey’s groin, “I’ve heard that siblings tend to be attracted to each other. I guess that’s why we are so compatible in bed, aren’t we?”

Joffrey hadn't realized until this moment that he had been fucking his half-brother for months now.

Fuck, he was so screwed.

[starchilddante]

Part 2 of Alex: A Prince Turned Princess

Breakfast was miserable. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my parents. I mean, they are about the greatest parents anyone could ask for. They were even really supportive when I came out as gay, which is probably more than I could ask for. Still, the probing questions about my wellbeing had really left me feeling cornered and exhausted these days. Like the one Mom was posing currently as I picked at my scrambled eggs. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be prepared, love? We want you to take charge with this ball, but it seems to be weighing heavily on you.” I sighed quietly into my mouthful of food and offered my mom a tired grin. 

“I’m fine, Mom,” I replied. The ball was the least of my worries. “Just because I’ve been sleepy and a little bit distracted doesn’t mean anything is wrong. I need my beauty sleep if I’m going to compete with your stunning beauty at the ball.” 

My mother grimaced at me, while my Father snickered behind his coffee. My mother was well-acquainted with flattery as a distraction tactic. After all, I learned it from my father. 

“Well, I’m sorry,” she said with a huff. “I didn’t know a mother wasn’t allowed to worry about her family.” I chuckled as I set down my fork, getting up to kiss her on the cheek. 

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said quietly. “I’m really okay. I promise.” My mother looked up to meet my eyes, standing so she could hold my cheeks in her hands. I could hardly believe I was taller than her now.

“You know you can tell us anything, darling,” she said. “Your father and I may be King and Queen, but we’re your parents, too. We’ll be here to support you, no matter what.” I nodded, clearing my throat to keep my voice from wobbling. My mother was more than I deserved, and sometimes that drove me to the verge of tears. Then again, I’d always been a bit of crybaby. 

I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Thanks Mom,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. I’m looking forward to the ball. I can do this.”

Once I let go of her, my Mother stepped back, holding my arms as she looked me up and down. She straightened my shirt, brushing away crumbs that I were convinced were imaginary. Her eyes met mine again and she smiled. 

“You’ve grown into such a fine young man, Alexander,” she said with a tender sigh. “My darling boy. You’re growing up so fast.” 

Her words brought back the skin-crawling sensation again. I looked down at the floor with a half-laugh, suddenly realizing how deep my voice was in comparison to her. It made me feel a little sick. 

“Thanks, Mom.” I swallowed past the sickness. “I just want to make you both proud.” My father put down his coffee at my words. 

“You do, my boy.” he chimed in. “You make me proud to call you my son.” 

I forced a smile, feeling guilty. Why did his words make the pit in my stomach grow deeper? 

“I’m gonna go spend some time in the library,” I told them. “We’re still going to meet this afternoon, right?” My father nodded. 

“Yes, sir. I will see you at two o’clock sharp.” 

I hugged my mother again before disappearing from the dining room, walking as fast I could without looking strange. I hoped nobody could see my face flushing. If one more person addressed me right now I might just start bawling. And the fact that I couldn’t quite figure out why meant that I might punch the unfortunate person right afterwards. 

Luckily, I made it to the library without running into a single soul, not even Irene. I’d probably have to hear a passive-aggressive scolding from her later about not telling her where I’d gone. I could hear her voice in my head already. 

In case you forgot, Alex: Where you go, I go. Keep that in mind next time. 

The thought of Irene’s sassiness put a slight smile on my lips, but just like everything else, did nothing to dissipate the dark, indescribable cloud of sickness that hung over me more and more these days. I slumped down into the comfiest chair, next to the fireplace. It smelled faintly of smoke, and it reminded me of the days when my father would let me sit on his lap and he would tell me all kinds of stories. I wished things were still that simple. 

It wasn’t as if I had much to be ungrateful about. I was well-cared for, loved, and accepted by my family. I had Irene to share my secrets with, and a boyfriend that might turn into a fiance in the next couple years. There was so much to be happy for. 

But I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The pit of dread constantly turning round and round in my stomach never let me forget that. But what was it? I couldn’t begin to tell you. 

After a few more minutes of drowning in my thoughts, I decided it would be a bit helpful to at least look like I was being productive. I dragged myself out of the chair and towards the many shelves lined with books. 

Grimly, I stared at the various titles. I had planned to search for a few books on the history of our country’s government, since I was, you know, the heir to the throne and what not. My father never forced me into following rituals and diving into royal studies, for which I was grateful. He gave me the opportunity to be a kid. Still, a prince should know all about his country. After all, I was destined to rule it someday. A prince becomes a king. 

Thinking about that only reminded me of the noxious fog of existential doom following me around. (I can call it that if I want.) I went to pick up A Brief Look at Traditional Folklore, which, by the way, did not look brief, when something else caught my eye. 

A History of Ladies’ Fashion. 

I’d eyed the book plenty of times over the years. I don’t know what I found so intriguing about it. But whatever it was, it was never enough to actually get me to read the damn thing. I always came to the library for a purpose, and anything that wasn’t necessary got pushed to the back-burner. 

Maybe it was time to do some leisure reading. I pulled the book out and settled back on the armchair, briefly pausing to stare at the artwork on the cover. It was a young woman with dark-brown hair, her face and eyes as delicate as her stance, posing in the pinkest silk dress I had ever seen. Her smile looked joyful, and the rosiness of her cheeks made me imagine she had just been dancing and laughing moments before her portrait was painted. She looked confident. She looked happy. She was beautiful. 

With a smile, I opened the book and began to read.

@valorwuzhere here's an update for ya lol :p

Again, if anyone would prefer to read on Wattpad, I'm uploading all parts there as well.

https://www.wattpad.com/1413369420-alex-a-prince-turned-princess-part-1

[jaimebluesq]

I posted 1,420 times in 2022

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Longest Tag: 128 characters

#but you suggest two boys or two girls might like each other as more than friends and it's suddenly “stop forcing kids to be gay”

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

What My Favourite Ships Say About Me

I've seen a few "What your favourite (insert X fandom) ship says about you" videos and posts, and thought I'd make my own about some of MY favourite pairings (spoiler - they're all NHS based - big surprise to anyone who follows me >.<), all of which I have written before.

Be warned, I poke fun at them and myself - this is all for shits and giggles :D

If anyone wants to use this as an excuse to make their own, please do! The more the merrier!

So let's start with the biggest one...

SangCheng

SangChengSu

See the full post

93 notes - Posted September 24, 2022

#4

Have seen talk of non-fatal and non-romantic hanahaki and the following beast entered my brain.

Jiang Cheng

He starts coughing up lavender-tinted petals as a child. Everyone thinks it's from an unrequited crush and thinks it's cute and will go away on its own one day. Nobody really notices the petals are the same shade as Jiang Fengmian's robes nor that they get worse after Wei Wuxian is brought to Lotus Pier.

After WWX enters the family, some of the petals start taking on an aqua/teal colouring, and they always come on strongest after a derisive scolding from Madame Yu about how he's not enough and he can't allow the son of a servant to show him up.

The day WWX leaves with the Wen remnants, scarlet-tinted petals join the mix. Eventually Jiang Yanli marries and leaves Lotus Pier and every time she sees JC, her first words are always about WWX or Jin Zixuan - petals of blended purple and gold join the mix.

And then JC is left completely alone with a tiny child in his arms.

He does his best to push through his grief and do his duties to sect and nephew, by now long used to the frequent petals brought up every day.

One day he's holding Jin Ling and the baby says his first word - Jiujiu.

Another day, the nanny brings JL to JC's office and puts him on the ground - the baby gets up onto wobbly legs and takes his first steps, hands reaching out for JC.

And one day JC realizes that the only times he coughs up petals anymore is when he prays at the ancestral shrine, thinking on the family he lost. And even those eventually peter away as time scabs over the wounds in his heart.

By this time, JC knows what the petals meant.

When WWX comes back from the dead, JC fears the petals will come back.

They almost do - for a moment he coughs and feels something in his throat when he watches WWX leave with LWJ... and then Jin Ling is before him, asking if he's all right, all love and concern under a tough/snarky veneer. Just like his uncle.

He never worries about coughing up a petal again.

152 notes - Posted June 20, 2022

#3

Nie Sect headcanon of the day:

The Nie traditionally prefer riding horses to flying their sabers. They let the other sects think its for aesthetics or because their sabers are too heavy. In reality, it's because their saber spirits are terrible backseat drivers and never shut up the whole journey.

202 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

#2

Watch "【Multi Sub】《#陈情令之乱魄》/ Fatal Journey 祖传刀墓事件跌宕起伏 明玦怀桑再续陈情令不朽传奇【玄幻 | 肖战 王一博 | iQIYI大电影-欢迎订阅】" on YouTube

Guess what movie is now on Youtube?!?!

Posting for everyone who hasn't yet gotten their fill of the Nie Bros feels and Nie Huaisang's epic kubrick stare.

242 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Today I was made aware that this image exists - I will NEVER be the same!!!!!

1,010 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ijustwant2write]

Disappointments-Male!Gay!Shelby!Reader x Shelby Family

(GIF credit to @frillmag​)

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @bloodorangemoonlight​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @mzcrazy2​

Requested by anonymous : 'Hey, do you write for male readers? If so, could you write a fic about either one of the Shelby brothers having a gay son, or being one of the Shelby brothers and being?? Maybe being Finn’s twin brother and being gay? If not, that’s okay. It’s just hard to find male reader fics. P.S. your writing is amazing! 😙’

Characters: Finn Shelby x Reader (brothers), Polly Shelby x Reader (aunt), Thomas Shelby x Reader (brothers), John Shelby x Reader (brothers)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing, mentions of sex, violence, guns, fluff

                                 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You're getting worse at sneaking in you know. It's just sloppy now." Finn startled his brother who had been doing just that. 

(Y/N) sighed as he shut the backdoor that lead to the kitchen. Finn was sat at the table, a cup of tea in his hand, already finished with his breakfast. He was loving this. But what person didn't enjoy seeing their sibling potentially get into trouble?

“Is Polly about?" (Y/N) asked, still staying quiet. 

“Going behind her back once again?” Finn didn't lower his voice, smirking at his brother's distress. 

“Shut up you prick! Just help me out here, please. It's not like you're a Saint round here.”

Footsteps coming down the stairs panicked (Y/N), desperately trying to think of a way out of this. He had been out on a long night out, meaning he was still wearing his fancy clothes and his head was throbbing with a hangover. The smell of Finn’s cooked breakfast still lingered in the air, which made (Y/N) feel both sick and starving. As Polly got nearer, (Y/N) grabbed a towel drying in front of the stove, wrapping it around his shoulders before trying to comb his hair down with his fingers. Finn tried to hide his sniggering as Polly entered the room. 

“Eh, where have you been?” Polly immediately asked.

“I've been down here, with Finn.” he lied. 

“Why have you got a towel around your shoulders?”

“Left my dressing gown upstairs.”

“You Shelby boys think you can blatantly lie in front of me and get away with it. Where were you?”

(Y/N) groaned, flinging the towel off his shoulders.“Out, enjoying myself for once.”

“You know you should tell us where you are, in case-”

“-in case anything happens, I know. But whenever Finn goes out, he doesn't get questioned!”

Polly glanced at the floor."We've been through this." 

“Because I let men fuck me?” 

Polly's head whipped up, her eyes wide.“(Y/N)!”

Finn ducked his head slightly. This was all fun and games at first, but it always lead back to this. His brother was right. They wanted to know where he was to make sure no one recognised him as a Shelby when he went there. And if anything broke out, he could be taken away from the scene before someone used him to mock the Peaky Blinders. 

“Just don't mention this to your brothers. They've got enough on their plate at the moment.” Polly snapped.”

(Y/N) stood from his seat, scoffing as he left the room.“Not that Finn or I would know anything about that. We're the disappointments of the family, remember? They don't want us anywhere near them.”

(Y/N) held back his frustrated tears as he washed his face in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror as the droplets ran down his face. This was who he was, but sometimes he wished he could be like his brothers, any of them. Over the years he had desperately tried to ignore that side of him, tried to find a girl he could put up with. At first, he thought it would be easier than he thought; he easily spoke to girls, he could be flirty if he wanted, and he was Shelby so it wasn't hard to convince them to coke home with him. However, as he thought about a life with a woman, he found himself turning up his nose at it. He just couldn't bring himself to go through with it, even the thought of a small kiss made him uncomfortable. 

As he left the bathroom and headed to his room, (Y/N) smelt a cooked breakfast again. This time it didn't make his stomach churn so much. Entering his room, he realised the smell was coming from there, and his confusion was resolved when he spotted Finn perched on his bed, a plate of food on his lap. 

“Pol left hers. So, thought it shouldn't go to waste.” Finn said, holding the plate out to (Y/N). 

A small smile graced (Y/N)'s lips as he took it.“Thanks.”

He sat up against the headboard of his single bed, starting to eat as Finn made himself comfortable. 

“I'm sorry about what I said earlier. About us being the disappointments.” (Y/N) rudely spoke with his mouth full. 

“It's the truth, innit?” Finn shrugged. 

“They'll take you on, Finn. You'll soon be running around doing jobs for them.” 

“What about you?”

“Let me outside into the public, letting people see the homosexual Shelby brother? I don't think so.”

Finn knew he was right. He hesitated before asking his next question.“(Y/N)...how did you know that you...liked men?” 

“I just...find them attractive, the same way you like women, I guess. I always thought that maybe I was jealous of how they looked. Maybe it was the way they held themselves. But at a party one night I...”

“You told me about this. You kissed a boy.”

(Y/N) sadly chuckled.“Yeah. In the moment it felt right, I could tell that this was who I was. But as soon as we stopped, I felt sick. I mean, could you blame me? I was fifteen and still terrified of our brothers. I just started imagining being kicked out, left on the streets, people would come after me because I like men, thinking that cause I'm a Shelby that it would effect the family. Our family doesn't give a shit about us.”

Suddenly the door opened, Polly stood there with a hand on her hip.“Right, you, get dressed. Your brothers want to see you.”

She swiftly closed the door, leaving the boys in silence. (Y/N) was the first to make noise as he bit into a piece of toast. 

He swallowed before speaking. “Guess I was wrong about what I said before.”

The boys were suited up before meeting their brothers at Charlie's yard. They were gathered around a fire pit, Charlie and Tommy smoking, no one noticing the boys until (Y/N) cleared his throat. They felt nervous, they always did when summoned by their older brothers. For so long they had both wanted to please them, make the family name proud; Finn still did, (Y/N) on the other hand couldn't give less of a damn.

“Right, we can start.” Tommy cleared his throat as he put out his cigarette. 

“Lovely greeting as always, Tom.” (Y/N) muttered. 

“Leave it (Y/N).” John warned. 

“You're all here to execute the plan.” Tommy started.“You've all been given your instructions, today is the day we carry them out.”

“Tom,” Finn interrupted,“we haven't been given any instructions.”

Everyone looked towards the youngest, but Arthur smirked.“Don't you two worry, we've got something for you.”

The boys had to stand there and listen as Tommy went over everything, ensuring that everyone knew what they were doing. None of it made sense to them, they were trying to figure out where they fit into all of this.  

“You two,” Tommy finally referred to them,“you're going to go to the family's house, make sure they stay there.” 

“How?” (Y/N) asked. 

“You'll come up with something. But make sure none of them leave, do what you have to do.” 

Everyone was dismissed, immediately knowing what to do. (Y/N) and Finn glanced at each other, obviously annoyed that they were left with the task of stalling. What on earth were they supposed to say to keep them from leaving the house? 

As they walked down the street address they were given, (Y/N) and Finn huffed, shoulders slumped as they approached the house. 

“We're really moving up in the ranks, aren't we?” Finn moaned. 

“I don't give a shit about ranks or impressing Tommy.” (Y/N) scoffed. 

Finn glared at his brother.”Yeah, well, some of us are expected to carry on the family business.”

(Y/N) just rolled his eyes, stopping in front of the door. He knocked on it, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stood beside Finn. The door opened to reveal a middle aged woman, quite plump with her hair in a (once neat) bun, cheeks red and she looked out of breath. 

“Oh, Mr Shelby...and Mr Shelby.” she panted out, the sound of screaming children answering why she looked tired. 

(Y/N)'s body tensed up as he recognised her. He was here last night, this was the house he was brought back to with that man...she obviously didn't know about that, but (Y/N) silently panicked at the thought of his one night stand seeing him here. 

“We're here to talk about your protection payment.” Finn started. 

She shrugged.“We don't pay for that anymore.”

“We know. That’s the problem.”

“Look, the kids need feeding, I don't have time to chat.” 

She started to shut the door, but Finn stopped it.“We're in no rush. We can wait inside.”

The woman knew it wasn't a suggestion, it was a demand. She didn't hide her anger as they walked in, scurrying off to her children in the kitchen, shouting for their food. 

“She must know her husband is going to die today.” Finn whispered.“He's been an arse hole for months now, to us and her.” 

(Y/N)'s heart was racing.“Finn, I might wait outside-”

“What you talking about? We're fine here.” 

“Just to cover more ground.” 

“We only need to be here. Stop messing around.” 

“For fucks sake Finn, I was here last night!” (Y/N) harshly whispered. 

“What?”

“I came back here with a boy last night. This is his family!” 

Finn chuckled, trying to keep quiet.“Oh this is brilliant.” 

“Shut up, no it's not!” 

“Is he still here?”

“How the fuck should know?!”

“Look boys,” the mother returned,“I don't get involved with this side of things. This is all to do with my husband.”

“Then you don't know what he's been up to?” Finn alluded.

“No?”

“Finn, don't say anything.” (Y/N) whispered.

He sighed.“Got any tea?” 

(Y/N) couldn't relax at all, hardly touching the tea the woman was forced to make. Finn seemed to be relishing in the small power he had. The children were outside playing, their squeals, giggles and bickering echoing out. Finn made the woman stay in the kitchen with them, not trusting her to somehow rush off and save her husband, not that she would be able to find him. (Y/N) had scenarios racing through his head, wondering if the guy he slept with would be home at any minute. It was killing him thinking that he had been here already, and the woman didn't even know.

“I'm back. Could only get a small loaf today, baker's struggling. Something to do with having the wrong flour?” an all too familiar voice rang out as the front door opened. 

(Y/N)’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets, loathing the menacing grin on his brother’s face. He scanned around the room, wondering if there was someway he could hide his face; he even thought about leaving through the back door, but (Y/N) knew he couldn’t leave Finn behind. It was too late anyway, because his one night stand was right in front of him. He too froze in the doorway, rustling the paper bag as he gripped onto it.

“What do you think you’re doing boy?” his mother scolded him, snatching the bag of bread out of his hand as she stood.“We have to make this last the week!”

He didn’t respond, his eyes still on (Y/N).“What are they doing here?”

“Your father is ruining our lives again.”

“That still doesn’t explain why they’re sat in our kitchen.”

“Here on business.” Finn piped up, glancing at his pocket watch.“Shouldn’t be here much longer.”

“What have you done with my dad?”

He wasn’t in shock so much, it had turned to anger, and it was directed at Finn’s cockiness. But Finn loved this, he felt like his brothers did when they had the power. Sipping on his tea, he took his time to answer, only making the son impatient.

“Dunno. Our brother’s are dealing with that.”

“You son of a bitch-”

The son swiftly moved towards Finn, but (Y/N) instinctively lunged in front of his brother, holding the man back. The woman screamed, grabbing a rolling pin and hitting (Y/N) on the back. He yelped out every time he hit her, until Finn easily took it out of her hands, giving her a fierce glare that made her shrink.

“He needs to stay outside. (Y/N), make sure he stays there.” Finn ordered.

“And if I don’t comply?” the son quipped back.

Finn opened one side of his coat, revealing his gun.“There doesn’t need to be anymore death today.”

The woman gasped, backing further into the counter away from Finn. (Y/N) just sighed, rolling his eyes.“There’s no need for that. Put it away before you give her a heart attack.”

The man shoved (Y/N) away, glaring at Finn as he made his way outside where his brother’s and sister’s were. (Y/N) followed, panicking slightly as he left through the gate and into the back alley that lined the small yards.

“Don’t worry, I’m not running off. Just didn’t want to argue in front of my siblings.” he huffed, leaning against the stone wall and crossing his arms.  

“Understandable.” (Y/N) muttered.

“So, you’re killing my dad today?”

(Y/N) didn’t answer, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, so now it’s the silent treatment? You’re doing a better job of that than last night-”

“Alright! Look, I don’t actually know what my brother’s are doing.”

“You going to shoot all of us after they’re done?”

“No! You lot haven’t done anything. My brother’s wanted me today, they never usually do, and as usual, I am never involved with any planning.”

“But you go along with it anyway?”

“When you have a family like mine, you do as you’re told. It causes less drama.”

“Fuck having a family like yours.”

“That’s something we can both agree on.”

The man scoffed a laugh.“So, last night, you had no idea you would be here today?”

“No.”

“You weren’t using me to get information for your brothers?”

“I would never do that.”

“Thought you said you do as you’re told?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up! I liked you last night when I was drunk but now you’re just really fucking annoying.”

“Good thing we didn’t want to take this further. Bet you don’t even remember my name.”

“Obviously not worth remembering.”

“It’s Jack!”

Their bickering was interrupted by a woman’s scream coming from the house. This caused silence over the children too, who after a few seconds started screaming themselves or crying out of fear. Jack tried to rush past (Y/N), but the Shelby boy held him back, pinning him against the wall. Jack was strong, but (Y/N) had the upper hand of wielding a gun. Jack hesitated, thinking about how he could get out of this, though he didn’t know how ruthless (Y/N) could be. 

They stared at each other, frozen in that position with the gun digging into Jacks’ neck. (Y/N) wasn’t sure what to do. On jobs like these, they would usually be done by now, but this was a mess. As he was trying to come up with a plan to calm the situation down, the sound of a door slamming startled them, luckily the safety was still on the gun. Finn burst through the gate, a scowl on his face as he saw the pair.

“Having a repeat of last night?” Finn spat.

“What have you done to my mother?!” Jack writhed under (Y/N)’s hold.

“She’s fine, unharmed. The children are inside with her. (Y/N) we can go.”

“So he’s dead then?” Jack pushed (Y/N) away as soon as his grip loosened.

Finn turned around, ready to start walking away.“Thought you would be happy. He sounded like a terrible person.”

“I am. I’m angry that you came here and terrified my family, you peaky scum.”

That made Finn halt in his steps. He loathed anyone disrespecting the family name.“What did you just call us?”

“Finn, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just get back to the others-”

Finn spoke over (Y/N).“He’s being disrespectful. That was a very stupid thing to do, especially since there’s two of us, and one of you.”

“Finn, we don’t have to do anything. Let’s. Go.”

(Y/N) quickly walked away, leaving Finn behind. His mouth dropped open in shock at his brother’s actions. How dare he leave him behind?! Finn turned to deal with Jack, only to have him spit on the floor before returning to his home and family.

Finn had a go at (Y/N) the whole time they were walking back to the shop. He kept going on about holding up to the family name, making sure that no one stood up to them. (Y/N) didn’t respond. He didn’t want to follow in his brother’s footsteps. Who would want to be part of this dynasty? If he had to hurt people like that again, he would tear his hair out. He hadn’t done anything directly to that family, however, being a part of the problem was still bothering him. As they entered the shop, Finn was still rambling on, catching the attention of the rest of the family.

“Oi!” Tommy yelled to shut up Finn.“What’s going on?”

(Y/N) lowered his head.“Nothing-”

“(Y/N) walked away from someone who deserved a beating.” Finn frowning.

Tommy rolled his eyes.“Did you do the job?”

“Tom, you’re not going to do anything? You always lecture me about-”

“No, Finn. Now is not the time. Answer my question.”

“Yeah. It’s fine. She stayed put.”

“Good.”

Finn just huffed at Tommy’s dismissive attitude, slumping into a chair as the eldest brothers started talking with Polly. (Y/N) stayed put, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So why didn’t you throw a punch? Scared to hurt your pretty little face?” John cruelly teased (Y/N) as he split from the group.

(Y/N) didn’t respond.

“Come on, (Y/N). Why so quiet?”

“John,” Polly warned,“leave your brother alone.”

“He’s no brother of mine.” 

John had always made his opinion about (Y/N) known. The young boy wasn’t stupid. He knew his older brothers didn’t like him, though John was the only one that said it out loud.

“Don’t worry Pol,” (Y/N) started,“they’re not my brothers either.”

“Stop it, both of you.”

“Why should I? I get this shit from them everyday, but the moment I stand up for myself, I’m the one who’s in the wrong.”

“Because you’re wrong. It’s not right what you...what you do with men.” John argued.

“What I do is none of your business!”

“It is when you’re a fucking Shelby and a Peaky Blinder!”

“I didn’t want to be either of those things! I always stay out of the way of you guys, but for some reason, you always want me to be a part of it! To keep up with your image? I don’t think so.”

(Y/N) wasn’t going to stay a moment longer. The arguments always ended up the same, he would always be outnumbered, and he wasn’t going to deal with it again. As he left, only Polly and Finn called out to him, not surprising. He made a beeline for his home, rushing upstairs to pack everything he could into a case. Small Heath was never his home. He never felt right here. He would get on a train tonight, find somewhere to go, anywhere but here, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be known anywhere else. (Y/N) could make somewhat of a start to his life. No more links to the Shelby name, no more links to the Peaky Blinders.

People stared at (Y/N) as he lugged his suitcase through the streets. They were all wondering where the young Shelby was headed to. His breathing was heavy as his heart beat raced. He was only young, he didn’t have much planned past getting on a train. This was crazy, it didn’t make sense to do this, yet it felt right to (Y/N). He knew he had to leave this place and his so called family.

“(Y/N)!” He heard Finn scream out.“Wait!”

(Y/N) turned to see his brother running towards him. He was probably sent to bring him back. Well, he wasn’t going easy.

“Where are you going?” Finn breathed out as he stopped.

“Anywhere that’s far from here.”

“You...you don’t know?”

“It sounds crazy-”

“It is!”

“But you know I can’t stay here much longer. I’m miserable. I can’t keep tiptoeing around our brothers, or face their judgement any longer.”

“Then, you’ll be needing this.” 

Finn dug into his jacket, pulling out wads of cash rolled up. He pushed it into (Y/N)’s hand.

“Finn, no, I can’t take this.”

“Yes you can. Besides, it’s not mine.” he smirked.

(Y/N) chuckled in shock.“You took this from the shop?”

“Anything to help my brother out.”

(Y/N) tucked away the cash, sighing as he looked at his brother.“You’re the one thing I’m going to miss.”

They hugged, patting each other on the back.“I love you brother. I know I’ve not always...agreed with what you...what like, but I’ll always be here for you. If you ever need any help, just call.”

“Thanks Finn. And if you ever need to get away from this place, you can come stay with me. Wherever that is.”

“So, what are you going to do, once you’re settled?”

“I don’t know. But whatever I do, it will be better than the future Tommy had for me.”

“You’re braver than I am.”

“No, I’m not. I’m just smarter.”

He winked at his brother as he picked up his suitcase, both of them laughing as (Y/N) started to walk away. (Y/N) wished he had longer with Finn, a proper goodbye would have been nice. But if he stayed any longer, his brothers would somehow force him to stay. He was on his own now, he had to be an adult if he was to make it on his own and never come back. (Y/N) just hoped that this really was the right choice, and that he wouldn’t come crawling back. The only way from here was forwards.

[starlocked01]

Toddlers Scare the Living Shit Out of Me

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 4- Parents

WC: 3k

Summary: Virgil is very surprised when he's brought home by a fascinating stranger at the bar. A kid wasn't exactly what he agreed to in a one-night stand. Nor did he expect a relationship.

Content Warnings: Alcohol Use, Talk of divorce, Swearing, Mild gory language

@dukexietyweek

(also thank you @suchaswearemads for their OC Teddy 🧡)

Virgil was mildly aware that he might regret this if he lived until morning. His roommate would probably have a statistic at the ready about criminals luring victims away from clubs with whispered promises of sex or drugs, and how often they target gay men. Virgil snorted a laugh to himself. Poor Lo would kill him himself if he knew what Virgil was up to. This guy even looked the part of an unhinged surprise organ donation scheduler, all covered in spikes and tattoos of anatomical cross-sections all over his visible skin. If Virgil were any drunker, he'd probably mistake him for a skeleton or half dissected cadaver.

He really didn't care. He was drunk and Remus said pretty words that made him feel wanted. He'd follow the cadaver man halfway around the world like this. Exactly proving Logan right that he shouldn't go out drinking alone. He giggled and stumbled and giggled because he stumbled and the ground was spinning under his feet.

"What’s so funny, Dr. Gloom 'n' Giggles?" Remus caught Virgil and pulled him back upright, even as his brain fought to stay closer to the ground and made the whole damn world lurch in protest.

"Hey! 'M fine. Yourrr gonna kill me, bad man mad man. Fuuuuuuuck I had way too- didya spike 'e?" Virgil struggled to form a single, coherent sentence, feeling the alcohol's effects acutely and in increasing measure with each step towards doom and destruction.

Remus laughed, "ya caught me. Why don't I call you a taxi home?"

"Nooo! I sssaaid I'd come home withya- ssooo I am," Virgil shook his head and tried to stand and remain upright. His attempt lasted all of a second before Remus had to catch him again.

"Look, I don’t need you trying to puke all over my dick or something. I'm calling you a fucking cab," Remus tried to reason but Virgil heard none of it as he yanked himself away to hurl in the bushes.

"'M fine. Commmmming down," Virgil panted, trying desperately to steady himself. After several deep breaths and false starts, he managed to stay upright and reach for a steadying hand. Whatever had knocked him on his ass so quickly was also fading just as fast, "shiitt, did you spike my drink?"

"Nah, man. Come on, we're almost there."

---

Remus stared at this drunk little catch from the bar and was glad he was the one who'd picked him up. Someone must have tried something funny with his drink. Bad enough news for everyone else still at the club but at least this one was safe.

Remus shook his head and checked his phone to call a cab only to find the phone dead already. Shit. No way to warn Roman now. Remus waited for Virgil to finish puking his guts out on the neighbor's lawn, pretty dead set on getting this guy help as soon as they got home and he convinced Ro he needed a favor.

Slowly, he helped Virgil towards his front door, surprised at how fast the intoxication seemed to be turning around as Virgil got steadier on his own feet. Remus winced when he couldn’t find his keys and cursed when Virgil reached out and rang the doorbell.

"Stop! It's way too late for that!" Remus hissed as the door quickly opened to a very pissed-off looking Roman.

"Are you crazy! Pat's asleep- oh… oh who the fuck is this?" Roman asked, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him, "Remus, you promised tonight!"

"Ro, calm down. This is Virgil. Yes, I promised, but do you think you could take-"

"No!" Roman exclaimed furiously, "I have work tomorrow! I can't take Pat. Send Virgil home and be a grown-up for once!" Roman grumbled and turned abruptly back inside.

"Roman! Someone tried to spike him-" Remus hissed, pulling Virgil inside with him "-and before it hit, he was the best guy I've met in my life."

"Oh you mean just like Mr. Wonderful?" Roman snarked back in a low voice as he gathered his belongings. Remus winced at the reminder.

"Don't be a dick, brother dearest. That's my job. Please, I promise this time will be the last-"

"I can't! Teddy is already worried that I'm out this late. We love Patton but we're not raising him for you. You're not a kid anymore, Rem. Learn to date like an adult because we're not babysitting while you go out clubbing like this again," Roman huffed and stormed toward the door, "sorry to meet you like this, Virgil. I hope you feel better soon."

Virgil barely lifted his hand to wave as Roman left and shut the door with a dreadful finality. Remus slumped and sat at the foot of the couch Virgil had sprawled on.

"Sorry about him. How ya doing, Virgie?" Remus asked quietly.

Virgil groaned, "head hurts. Still tipsy. What the fuck did you do to my drink?"

"I didn't do anything but save you from whoever did," Remus shook his head and stood, "I'll get you some water. Or gatorade. Or milk. Fuck what do I even-"

Remus was suddenly cut off by clattering dishes and a small whimpering coming from the kitchen. In a few swift steps, he entered the kitchen and flicked on the lights to find a plate toppled from the counter to the floor, the fridge cracked open, and a toddler trying very hard to hide behind the trash can.

"Pattycake! What are you doing sneaking around in the dark?" Remus slapped on a grin and swooped the child into his arms with a grunt, "oh big boy. Getting too old to pick up like this."

Patton squeaked in his father's arms as he was lifted up, "got loud, Papa. Unkie Ro promised me a second cookie before bed."

"He did now?" Remus asked, eyebrows raised in mock shock.

"Mhmm. Said Unkie Teddy'd bring it. Where's Unkie Teddy?"

"Oh no! Ro was gonna call the cookie monster himself to get ya?" Remus gasped as he shifted his hold on the child and nudged the plate under the sink to take care of in the morning, "Uncle Ro promised you a cookie monster and didn't show up? That fiend!" Remus giggled with Patton as he grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge, shutting the door with his hip.

"Unkie Monsta!" Patton giggled, clinging to Remus’s neck.

"Mhmm. It's really late buddy. You should get back to bed," Remus cooed as he dropped one of the water bottles on Virgil’s chest.

"What the hell-?" Virgil tried to sit up, utterly confused who Remus was talking to now.

"Hey! You don't get to cuss in front of my kid until date five!" Remus snapped, holding Patton close. Virgil blinked at the baby blue eyes, curly blonde hair and the overwhelming amount of freckles as the child stared back at him with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Papa, who's that? He looks spiky," Patton whimpered, quickly hiding his face from Virgil.

"Baby, I'm spiky. I like spiky people," Remus carefully soothed, running a hand through soft curls, "he's one of Papa's new friends."

Virgil watched, unamused, "you didn't say that you have a kid. What, were you planning on bringing me back here with a toddler who could walk in and see anything?"

"Look, I was trying to ask my brother to babysit him overnight. You're hella cute but I didn't expect to make this introduction so quickly," Remus huffed, "Pattybear, be nice and say hi and then you best be headed back to bed, mister."

Patton peeked one eye out to appraise the stranger in his spot on the couch. After a long moment, he waved and barely audibly whispered a small, "hi."

Virgil smiled at the typical child response to his neon purple hair and uncountable piercings, but Remus laughed loudly, startling both the drunk man and the child, "oh Come on! That was weak shit, Pat-Pat. Say it like you mean it!"

"That's not necess-"

"HI!" the tiny voice bellowed over his protests. Father and son laughed together as Virgil sputtered.

"Now that's what I'm talking about, my little monster! Alright, enough fun. Back to bed, you rascal. Papa has to take care of the baby who drank too much apple juice," Remus beamed and set Patton down on the ground, waving as the child sped off back to his room.

"Cute kid. You didn’t mention a kid earlier," Virgil groaned and laid back down on the couch, head swimming.

"Yeah well, kids are chick magnets," Remus replied, not meeting Virgil’s eyes.

"Okay?"

"I'm into dudes…"

"And? It's not like a kid is gonna send good guys running," Virgil shrugged, very much regretting his choice of drinks that night.

"Yeah, you haven't run yet. But that was a very tired out and pacified little scamp you just met. You'll see in the morning- unless you wanted me to call you a cab now?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't wanna move," Virgil murmured, "but I would like kissesss."

"Direct. I like it," Remus smirked and slid down to kneel next to the couch, "but that would be taking advantage of your weakened defenses. Sleep it off and ask me in the morning."

Virgil whined and pouted at the denial, "please? I came all this way."

"Well, if you insist," Remus grinned and leaned in close. Virgil smirked and pulled Remus forward that last inch. Virgil tried hard to enjoy the kiss but the fact of the not yet sleeping child in another room tempered his desires greatly. After a minute, Remus pulled back and grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch.

"To be continued, Dr. Love."

"Fine. Good night," Virgil sighed and watched Remus stand and leave the living room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

---

Virgil awoke the next morning to a warm palm pressed against his cheek. He slowly blinked his eyes open to find bright blue eyes framed with thin black wire-rimmed glasses. Squinting out the light to protect himself from the impending headache, Virgil finally recognized the child from the night before.

"Hey, Patton-"

"Angels sing and demons cry, but we can't tell the difference," Patton stated sweetly, head tilted to one side.

"Hey Kiddo, breakfast time!" Remus called from the kitchen, "is Virgil up yet?"

Virgil felt a chill run down his spine as the child giggled, patted his face, and called back, "yes Papa! We're coming!"

Virgil groaned and sat up slowly, sore from sleeping on the couch with his piercings still in. How he'd managed to fall asleep in skinny jeans absolutely baffled him, almost as much as the peculiar little kid staring at him expectantly.

"What d'ya want, kid?"

"A kitty!"

"I don't have a kitty."

Patton’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears and his lip quivered before the child ran screaming back to the kitchen.

Virgil was sorely tempted to roll back over and hope he woke up somewhere quieter, but the smell of bacon and the temptation of seeing Remus in the daylight pushed him to his feet.

The guy he'd met in the bar had practically disappeared once Patton showed up. Remus had been flirty and suggestive and very interested in Virgil all night but nothing in his behavior would have ever led Virgil to suspect he had a kid and was capable of acting so.. fatherly. The man’s duality was almost unsettling.

Virgil walked over and stood in the door of the kitchen, silently watching Remus encouraging the weeping little boy to sit down and eat toast. He still wasn't sure why Patton had thought he would have a cat with him, but the disappointment had surely gotten to the little fella.

Remus looked up and gave Virgil a tired grin, "heya, sleeping beauty. How's your head?"

"Threatening to disown me. I didn’t touch him. He asked if I had a cat," Virgil nodded to Patton, hoping that Remus didn't think he'd purposefully hurt the kid.

"Oh don't worry. He asks everyone. His dad promised him one and well, do you see a litter box?" Remus rolled his eyes, standing and guiding Patton to the table, "you'd think after so many empty promises, the kid would know better, right?"

"Wait… you're his dad, right?" Virgil frowned.

"Nope!" Patton giggled, twirling his spoon between his fingers, "Dada lives in the big house!"

"Patton, eat your breakfast!" Remus barked, not unkindly before turning back to Virgil with a sigh, "no offense, but Patton’s dad is not exactly first date story material. Neither is Patton but well, that can't be helped now."

Virgil bit his lip, "right. None of my business… Except I shouldn't be here if you're married."

"I'm not married, sweetheart," Remus held up his hand to show off the lack of a ring.

"And this mystery father isn't… ya know," Virgil drew a finger across his throat in a wordless question.

"I fucking wish! Look, it's none of your damn business, Virgil. You want breakfast or the door?" Remus snapped, turning back to the food on the stove.

Virgil sighed and sat down next to Patton at the table, idly arranging shaped blocks in a haphazard pattern, "I'm sorry. I just don’t want to get in the middle of something complicated without knowing that's what's up. Yo, got another triangle for me, Pat?"

Patton grinned and grabbed a triangle from the table before shoving it somewhat painfully into Virgil’s palm. Remus watched the interaction and sighed overly dramatically.

"Hey, baby, why don't you go get dressed and pick out a movie?" Remus ruffled Patton’s hair, "no horror movies today though."

"Awwwww but I love the scary ones," Patton moped but obediently left the table.

Remus waited until Patton was out of sight before replying, "look, I don't have any secrets. I got nothing to hide. The only complicated thing right now is custody. My ex and I are separated and don't talk. Hell, I try to get him to pick Pattom up from Roman and Teddy's every chance I get. I love the little tyke but his dad pisses me off."

Virgil bit his lip, "that does not sound ideal."

Remus shook his head, "it's not. Like one day you're planning a wedding and processing an adoption, then before you know it you're divorced and fighting with the man you love for custody of the child he said made him sick to look at." Remus gritted his teeth, "Pat deserves so much better…"

Virgil nodded along with Remus’s story, "so why go out clubbing during your time with Patton? He doesn't need two absent fathers."

Remus chuckled, "don't freak out, but the first one of us who remarries has a huge advantage in getting full custody. Because neither of us is biologically related to Pat-Pat, it's become way too much of a battle.

"I'm sorry," Virgil whispered, studying the grain of the wood in the table.

"It's alright," Remus shrugged, "you're alright, Virge. Can I get that number now?"

Virgil laughed and took the offered phone, "yeah, call me when you've got some free time and Patton is with his dad."

Remus grinned and pocketed the phone, "oh you'll see how this works, sweetheart."

---

Patton was nearly a constant whenever Virgil met with Remus, but at least Roman had been mollified by Remus having a steady date so he and Teddy resumed babysitting during more adult dates. The Remus he'd met at the bar never quite resurfaced in the same way, sometimes the actual image of the tatted-up punk caring for a sweet little angelic-looking demon spawn of a kid took Virgil by surprise, and sometimes he was shocked with the things this man would say to his kid. Teddy constantly questioned Virgil why he had stayed even after learning more about the whole situation.

Virgil wasn't certain why. Patton had definitely tried to scare him off a few times. The kid was terrifying when he wanted to be.

But this little family was so very compelling, and Virgil was more and more certain with each date that he wanted a place in it.

"So, sugar…"

"Yeah, Rem?"

"I have a modest proposal for you-"

"Nope. Not gonna eat babies."

"Wha-?"

"Oh, shoot I thought for sure you were talking about the satirical essay. What's up, babe?" Virgil winced and turned to face Remus.

"How would you… like to start the process to become one of Patton’s legal guardians?"

"You're asking your boyfriend to adopt your kid who already has two dads?"

"Well yeah, because-"

"Because then the paperwork is ready to sign right after the wedding," Virgil interrupted with a grin, "you sneaky son of a biscuit!"

Remus laughed, "please, baby?"

"Not my call, sweetheart," Virgil smirked, "hey, Pattycake!"

Little feet pounded down the hallway, Patton skidding to a halt in the kitchen, "yeah? Prince Sparkles is in danger so this better be important!"

"You can save the Prince soon enough, kid. How would you feel-" Virgil suddenly felt very nervous as the gravity of the question finally hit him, "-how would you like… another dad?"

"Umm.. do I have to meet him?" Patton looked disappointed and confused.

"No, Pat-attack, Virgil is asking if he can be your dad too," Remus explained gently.

"You aren't already? I demand you be my dad this instant!" Patton bellowed at Virgil, pouting with the most betrayed expression he could muster.

Virgil laughed, "don't worry kid, this is just gonna be the paperwork that makes it official. You know I got you."

"Yay! New Dad! New Dad!" Patton beamed and ran around the table to dive into Virgil’s arms. Virgil caught him with a grunt and leaned into Remus.

"I think that's a yes from me," Virgil murmured

"Most excellent. Now I've got both my boys!" Remus grinned and wrapped both in a bear hug to seal the deal.

[purpleorchid85]

Buddie Fic Rec List (Part 1)

5 Times Eddie & Buck Knew They Were Dating & 1 Time Everyone Else Figured It Out 

by Onlymystory

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012025

A Diaz By Any Other Name (Should Be A Buckley) 

by CaseyStar

Summary: Evan's lack of confidence in where he fit with the firefam and over how easily Bosko was brought in to take his place, rears it's ugly head when he hears about how Eddie escaped the warehouse when the police arrived.

AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/21783802

And They Were Roomates

By cherishingstydia 

Summary: Buck needs a place to live and Eddie has a guest room.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22828072

 And...They Were Zoommates

By emquin

Summary: Buck and Eddie work for the same company but have never met until working from home during the covid-19 pandemic has them using zoom video conferences.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23420866

 Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Summary: People like to flirt with Buck on calls. It kind of makes Buck uncomfortable. And that makes Eddie frustrated.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24762892

 Be My (Secret Santa) baby

By smartbuckley

Summary:  It's this year's secret santa, and as Buck is about to open his sixth gift, he remembers the previous gifts and his feelings about them.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21809878

 Bi Me A Drink 

by Wolves_of_Innistrad

Summary:  Hen takes the firefam out to a gay bar as a means of getting Eddie and Buck together. Fic contains lots of flirty Bi!Buck, Jealous and handsy Eddie and some extra twists.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414100

 Breathe You In

By Pline

Summary: Eddie can’t stop staring. This selfie is going to be the death of him. Buck is shirtless, and giving the camera an intense look that leaves Eddie panting. Or Buck sends a picture that tips their relationship into something new.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25070953

 Bruises and Bitemarks 

By Tarialdrion

Summary: When Chimney invited Buck to see his first live MMA fight, Buck had no idea that the night would end with him on his knees and the most gorgeous man he's ever seen happily devouring his mouth. Life is full of surprises.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24800731

 Buck's Not-At-All-Secret Admirer 

by R_E_R6

Summary: Buck has a 'secret admirer'. Everyone knows it's Eddie, even Buck.

Eddie has a plan though.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22650847

 Calendar Shoot 2.0 

by Araloth

Summary: It’s that time of year again, time for submissions to the annual LAFD sexy firefighter calendar. Buck is eager to try again, only this year he plans on actually taking Eddie up on all his free photography advice…

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21229880

 Check Yes or No 

by rebeccaofsbfarm

Summary: Eddie finds a note in Christopher's backpack and realizes that his son has a girlfriend. When he tells Buck, he has a reaction Eddie didn't anticipate.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783445

Cruiser Bruiser 

by FandomLife54

Summary: A close call on the side of the freeway has Eddie reevaluating his relationship with Buck, particularly how strained it's become due to Eddie's anger since the lawsuit. Some domestic love and more than a few heart to hearts have Eddie confessing things he should have a long time ago.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24126379

Darling It's Better (Down Where It's Wetter) 

By onlymystory  

Summary: "Who the hell is that?" asks Buck. Like he doesn't know exactly who that is. Like a week ago he wasn't enjoying one of the best fucks of his life with Eddie Diaz. Or the reason for Buck's surprise at the new recruit isn't quite for the reasons everyone thinks.

AO3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/23197093?view_full_work=true#main

 Dirty Little Secret

By smartbuckley

Summary: Buck and Eddie have been sneaking around together hooking up but it has never been just about sex for Buck and he keeps asking Eddie for it to be more. But Eddie doesn’t want anyone to know, even though he does love Buck (he’s scared) and can’t bring himself to talk about it. Buck gets upset about being Eddie’s dirty secret and cuts off their hookups, it hurts too much to be that close. He won’t let Eddie touch him even platonically. Eddie realizes he needs to do something about it.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498331#main

 Don’t Hate The Player, Hate The Game

By FancyfulOfLife

Summary: One day one too many firehouse 118 betting pools are going to bite them in the booty. Today just might be that day.

AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/22129198

 Don’t Need To Question The Reasons. I’m Yours.

By technicallyi’mawriter

Summary: The one where Buck is his flirty self and Eddie reminds him that he is his and his alone.

AO3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/24207109#main

Dosed, Again

By ApplepieandCinnamon

Summary: In retrospect, eating cookies that clearly inebriated strangers gave you as a thanks had not been a good idea. Well, you’re always smarter in hindsight. Sleep deprived Eddie Diaz is a danger to society and ends up drugging both himself and his best friend.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24742834

Eddie 'I Get What I Want' Diaz

By EdithBlake

Summary: Buck encounters an ex of his on a call. It puts things into perspective for Eddie.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22488685

 Eddie Hates The New Guy

By EdithBlake

Summary: Rick is Hen's replacement while she is undergoing investigation. Eddie hates him. He especially hates how Rick looks at Buck like he is a piece of meat.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438241

 Eddie's Not-So-Secret Feelings 

R_E_R6

Summary: 5 times Eddie says sweet things about Buck in Spanish so Buck doesn't find out he's in love with him +1 time Eddie realises Buck speaks Spanish and knew all along. With special guest stars: Eddie's entire family.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21729094

 Eddie Swiped Right On Buck

StaceyBlake

Summary: It's been over a year since Eddie has had sex. He is a bit desperate and downloads Tinder. When Buck's picture shows up on his screen and he swipes right, things take a sexy turn for these best friends.

AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/21818059

 Even The Bartender Knows

StaceyBlake

Summary: The Bartender at The Manhole gets a lot of guys coming into his bar who are questioning their sexuality. Helping them through it is kinda part of his job. But when a pretty Blond comes in and starts going on and on about how in love he is with his best friend, only for a man fitting said description of that best friend, walks in a few nights later going on and on about how in love he is with his best friend, well he's never seen that before.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21497890#main

 Feels Like Home

Mansikka

Summary: After a fire devastates Eddie's home, the logical thing for him and Christopher to do is stay with Buck. Though Buck's apartment isn't ideal; would it be such a crazy idea for the three of them to find a place to live in permanently together?

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24840859

 Friends To Make and Walls To Climb

By mansikka 

Summary: Eddie and Christopher just moved to Los Angeles, and they have lots of things to be happy about. Eddie loves his work on the 118, Christopher can get to know his mom again, and maybe Eddie and Shannon will relearn how to be friends. Christopher is also thriving in school, coming home every day with new tales about his new favorite teacher. Eddie needs to meet the incredible Mr. Buckley for himself, to see what all the fuss is about.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27957527

 Grand Guestures

By red_to_black

Summary: Buck didn't think too much of taking the Diaz boys out after a rough shift - until Hen and Chimney point out to him that he used to do the same with Abby. And really, if he was going to have a sexual crisis at the age of twenty seven, did it really have to be about Eddie?

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22208095

 Helping Hands

By Shaniamr

Summary: Everyone wants Buck to heal from the past year, and they think getting laid will help him. Buck doesn't want to revert back to Buck 1.0, but he also doesn't want his friends to worry about him. So Buck enlists the help of his best friend Eddie in fooling his friends. 

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22132669

 It Started With A Bang And A Hostage Situation

By JayJay_884 

Summary: Buck goes to the store one late night to buy food because of Maddie's pregnancy cravings. Whilst at the store, Buck accidentally gets caught in the middle of a robbery and gets knocked out. After waking up in the backroom, Buck finds himself as a hostage with a handsome and caring stranger.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30733649

 I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by exasiswings & letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Summary:  When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea. Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right? There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614971

 I Might Have To Tell You

By Ingu

Summary: Christopher gives Buck a list of how to cheer Eddie up while he's gone, and Buck accepts without reading the terms and conditions first.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24803128

 Is This How You Get A Cat?

By Whis

Summary: Buck didn't know he just needed to climb a tree, rescue the kitten, fall down, get a concussion and a huge nail through his hand to get a kitten, no that he was looking for one, although, if he had known Eddie was included in the package he would have done it earlier.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614971

 Keep It On

By R_E_R6

Summary: When Eddie walks in on Buck, bent over in nothing but a hoodie, their plans for the night immediately change. Buck's outfit though? Well, Eddie requests that it stays the same...for reasons.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26679433

 Kissing Booth Fiasco

By Lilacsheen

Summary: Buck plans on tending a kissing booth on a Halloween bash... but the kicker? He's blindfolded the entire time.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26987998

 Kiss With A Fist 

By florenceandthemachine

Summary: A meet-cute au where Eddie takes Chris to the gym once a week and they box a little together before Eddie spars; usually Chris sits by the ring and reads but one day Eddie finds him laying on a bench, lifting an empty bar while this really cute blond guy spots him and gives him encouragement...

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25415776

 Lift Me Up

By CaptainSif

Summary: Buck gets stuck in his apartment building's broken elevator with his good-looking neighbor from the sixth floor.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28452156

 I, Hildy

By red_to_black 

Summary: The many ways in which Hildy interfered with Eddie and Buck's life, until they got the picture.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511051

 Lightly Stabbed 

By  Every_Version_Of_Me

Summary: Buck gets stabbed and takes the time to call Eddie to tell him he can't make it to dinner.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21743812

 Love Language 

By red_to_black

Summary: Eddie's love language is acts of service, and Buck doesn't totally get it.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23403196?view_adult=true

[reidgraygubler]

play date (jennifer jareau/reader)

Title: Play Date

Request: no

Couple: Jennifer Jareau/Gender-Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warning:  allusions to parents death, mentions of a parent walking out, swearing (if any), single parenthood, tbh i don’t really know what else to tag. It’s just straight (or gay) fluff.

Word Count: 3,028

Summary: JJ brings her kids to the park where she meets Reader, who brought her kids to play. The pair’s kids become fast friends, as for Reader and JJ? That’s a whole different story.

A/N: this is my first time writing for jj. please enjoy it bc im big soft for her rn (i will also say that about luke too)... this is day four of my 7fics 7days event for 1.2k followers ! Here is the masterlist for that! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support! 

also, thank you to @reidetic​ for proof reading this :)))

{***}{***}{***}

It was a normal day, right? I mean, that’s what I thought. My kids and I walked to the park after some chores, and after lunch. Nice fresh air, playing in the park, talking to other parents. Do people actually do that? Talking to other parents in the park? It’s been a while since I’ve actually gone to the park with my kids… 

"Make sure you’re safe. And, if you need me, I’ll be sitting here," I pointed to the bench that held my backpack. My daughter looked up at me and nodded before running off. My son on the other hand was a little bit more apprehensive of leaving my side to go play. Part of me wondered if it had to do with all the other kids running around, playing with one another. 

"What’s up, Buddy? Didn’t you want to come to the park?" I looked at him as I squatted to his height. He looked up at me and shrugged, not really telling me what was wrong. "Oh, c’mon, we’ve been to this park before." I sighed and looked at him while I gently ruffled his hair.

"Your sister wants to play with you, go on." I looked towards the park where my daughter was currently playing. It was a relief seeing her playing with the other kids, not by herself. But she was always quick to make new friends and play with new people. So it wasn’t that big of a surprise. 

"Your son can play with my boys if he wants," a woman looked at me with a smile. I looked away from my child and towards a blonde woman who had two boys standing beside her. They looked to be about my son's age. 

"You wanna play with them?" I looked back at my boy, resting a hand on his shoulder. I watched as he looked over at the two new boys, his little eyebrows furrowed together as his lips pouted out a bit. "C’mon they won’t bite."

"Well, Michael might…" the woman laughed as she looked between me and my boy. I looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "They like playing superheroes," she was quick to add, clearly realizing her mistake. 

"You love superheroes! You could be X-Men!" I clapped my hands together. My son looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows and shook his head. Over by the blonde woman I could hear her boys talking about something. I looked over at the three and raised an eyebrow. "Did I say something wrong?" I looked back at my son. He just looked at me, his eyes just staring at me like I did, indeed, say something wrong. 

"How about," the woman spoke, looking between my boy and I, and then down at her boys, "You three go play superheroes, and when you’re all done, come back to us," she folded her arms over her chest as she looked down at the 3 boys. My son looked up at me with a cocked eyebrow, silently asking if I was totally fine with him going with 2 strangers.

"It’s okay, go on. I’ll be here. Have fun," I winked at him before standing upright myself. He looked over at the two other boys before running off with them. 

"That was easier than I thought it would be," I laughed as I moved my backpack to the ground, before I sat on the bench. 

"They love making new friends. But they can be a little… shy," she laughed as she stepped closer to the bench, "I would do anything for them," she smiled and nodded.

"Please, you can sit beside me." I chuckled as I gestured towards the empty space beside me.

"Jennifer… Jennifer Jareau," she smiled at me as she sat down beside each other on the park bench. I looked at her and nodded. "But you can call me JJ,"

"It’s nice meeting you, JJ," I smiled before giving her my name, "How old are your boys?" I looked over at the playground and spotted our boys playing together. It didn’t look like they were playing superheroes like JJ and I had both thought. It looked like they were playing pirates or something else. 

"Henry is 9 and Michael just turned 6," JJ smiled at me as I looked back at her. "What about yours? How old is he?" she asked, looking out at all the kids. 

"He just turned 5 a few months ago. And my daughter is 10," I smiled and nodded. I looked back out at the playground, looking for my daughter. She was by the slide, talking with one of the other girls. 

"Oh, and you have a daughter?" JJ asked as she followed my gaze to the girl in question. "Well, they both look just like you."

"Well, they definitely don’t have my  eyes and nose," I laughed and shook my head. JJ looked back at me with a cocked eyebrow. "And I swear my little boy has their personality too." 

"He certainly is adorable," JJ laughed as she looked around at the playground. She laughed once she looked at our boys. I was impressed that my son was actually playing instead of just sitting to the side by himself. To be honest, I don’t remember the last time he played with other kids his age. It was a nice change to see for him. He looked like he was having fun, and that’s all that mattered.

"My little king," I laughed lightly as I looked back at JJ. I noticed she was looking between me and our kids. "Do you come to this park often?" 

"Not as often as I’d like. Work can get busy, and then school gets busy," I relaxed my body as I sat back more on the bench.

"Amen to that," JJ raised her eyebrows as she spoke. Her smile was genuine, and I enjoyed looking at it. It gave me a certain joy I hadn’t had in a while. It made me smile. 

"What is it you do for a living? Surely it can’t be too bad," I laughed as I turned to face her more. She copied my movement and faced me too.

"I… I actually work for the FBI," she kept her voice low so no one around could hear our conversation. I looked at her with wide eyes. And suddenly every little bad thing I’ve ever done came to my mind. The one time I ran a red light because I didn’t want to be late. Or, the one time I stole a chocolate bar when I was a teenager. Or, when I cut someone off on the freeway.

"The-the FBI… Great," I nodded as I looked down at my hands. "Beats my media manager job," I laughed again as I looked up at her.

"Don’t worry. Media manager sounds like a great job," JJ smiled at me, reaching over to hold my hand. I looked at her and nodded.

"FBI sounds even cooler. I bet it’s terrifying," I swallowed roughly as I looked at her.

"Sometimes it can be. It’s the thrill of the chase that keeps me going." Her laughter was like cotton candy: sweet and light and fluffy. I couldn’t help but smile again. 

"I would have guessed it was the boys that kept you going. But, I supposed the FBI does do that to someone," I looked down at her hand, which was still holding mine. I could feel my heart rate pick up slightly as I looked down at our hands. I wonder if she knew she was still holding mine. 

"Yeah, I suppose I do have to try to keep up with those boys," she laughed, again, before looking over at our kids. I furrowed my eyebrows before nodding slowly. 

"Surely their dad must be a load of help, while you’re at work," I asked about her husband/partner without actually asking about him. She looked back at me and cringed slightly. "Oh… I’m so sorry," I whispered before dropping my gaze from her face.

"It’s okay. Really, it's fine,"  she pulled her hand from mine and waved it off. Part of me sensed that she didn't want to talk about it. And, that was okay. 

If it was the same situation as me, if they just walked out? Or if he was ever a part of his kids lives… Did he die? And, if so how? Was he a police officer who got killed on duty? Or was he incredibly sick? It was a bit of a touchy subject. That was until she asked...

"What happened to their…” she started as she looked over at me. “If you don’t mind me asking?" JJ looked at me. And I could feel her big blue doe eyes starting into my spoiler soul. I looked at her and shrugged.

"Oh, uh, not in their lives anymore," I sighed before looking towards the playground, "It was just after our son was born too..." I shrugged, leaving my statement as vague as possible so I wouldn’t have to explain that we were left for another person.

"Oh goodness, I’m sorry," she looked at me, gently resting a hand on my lap. I looked down at her hand and felt my heart rate spike again. 

I think she was able to figure out what happened without me saying anything about him. I mean, I figured out what happened to her husband. If I didn't have to explain what happened, then I think that would be best….

"Anyways, I've been a single parent ever since," I smiled as I looked over at her, “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Those two are my world,” I locked eyes with her. 

“I can agree. Michael and Henry… I’d be lost without them,” she smiled at me as she spoke. With that, we both fell into an odd and slightly uncomfortable silence. We both just turned and looked at our kids playing with each other. I wish it wasn’t so awkward…. 

“So, the… FBI?” I started as I turned back to face her. 

“The FBI,” she laughed and nodded, “I work in the BAU,” she looked over at me.

“What would that be, exactly?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh! Yeah! Right, I forget that people don’t know about all the different sections within the actual FBI,” JJ laughed again, and I couldn’t help but let my heart swell again. “So, there’s a bunch of different branches in the FBI, right. I work in the BAU, which is the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, looking at me like I already knew what that was. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at her.

“Okay, so… What do you do?” 

“Essentially, we read the behaviors of criminals… Like, serial killers, kidnappers… Stuff like that.”

“Like, Ted Bundy?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Yeah! Kinda. We’ve been all over the country, solving cases, some unsolved ones. It’s a wild world we live in,” JJ swallowed roughly as she looked down at the bench.

“Do you know how many cases you’ve solved? Must be a lot,” I asked, feeling a certain excitement take over. I felt a little embarrassed by the excitement I felt. JJ could sense that too. But I could see how happy she got with my joy. 

“Too many to count, honestly. I’ve been on the team for… 15 years,” JJ’s tone was mildly confused. Like, she wasn’t too sure. 

“Well, if you’ve been in that line of work for nearly two decades, it’s okay if you don’t remember,” I laughed as I reached over and rested my hand on her leg. It was her turn to blush up at my touch. “Media manager isn’t anything cool. Not like travelling the country like an FBI Agent. That’s super cool,” I looked up at her. 

“It is till it keeps you away from home for long periods of time,” she frowned as she looked down at where my hand was resting on her leg. I returned the frown as I retracted my hand.

“I understand being away from home for a while. Although, I think I only go on work trips every six months,” I laughed, trying to cheer her up a bit. 

“Anyways, enough about work,” JJ laughed as she looked back at me. 

I was more than happy when we fell into a comfortable conversation. Better than before, when we fell into the complete opposite, uncomfortable silence. The conversations moved so swiftly from hobbies, to when our kids were younger, to what we do in our free time. Although, our conversations were cut short by a cry from a little boy in the playground.

I instantly shot up to my feet, looking around the playground for my son. JJ was instantly on her feet too, looking for her sons too. The second I saw my son on the ground, in tears and holding his knee close to his body. I sprinted across the playground and right to him.

“Hey, hey, baby,” I knelt to the ground to help him, “It’s okay,” I whispered as I brushed the tears off his face.

“He… He just fell off the playground,” one of JJ’s sons appeared by me. I looked over at him and nodded with an exaggerated pout. 

“That’s okay! Accidents happen!” I looked back down at my son before picking him up and resting him on my hip. He sniffled his nose before pressing his face into my shoulder. “Ohh, is it time to go home?” I frowned as I walked back over to JJ and the bench. 

“Oh no! Did we have a fall?” JJ looked at me as I got closer to her. I frowned and nodded. “I have a first aid kit in the van if you need." She watched as I sat back down. She sat beside me and looked at my son. “Oh, that looks like a rough owie,” she looked at the scrape on his knees.

“You should see his hands,” I looked back at her. JJ looked back at me before standing up. 

“I’ll be right back,” she rested a hand on my son’s head and then mine before leaving us for a moment. 

“Should we go home and take a nap?” I asked, resting my hand on his back. He took a shaky breath and nodded before pressing his head into body. I looked up just as JJ returned with a small first aid kit and a stuffed animal.

“I have X-Men and Batman band aids,” JJ whispered as she sat back down beside me. I turned my son around so he was facing JJ. “Do you want… Wolverine or Batman?” She looked at him with a small smile on her lips. 

“B-batman,” he whispered, looking cautiously at JJ. I watched as she pulled out a wipe, ointment and some Batman band aids. My son looked up at me, tears still fresh in his eyes. 

“This might sting… Do you want to hold Arlo? He’s Michael’s dinosaur,” JJ looked at my son as she offered the bright blue and yellow stuffed animal. I looked down at him as he held out his hands to take the dinosaur from JJ’s hands. 

“You can be a big boy, for JJ?” I asked, brushing more tears off his cheeks. He looked up at me and nodded. I looked back at JJ and nodded lightly so she would just hurry and clean his injuries. 

“Owie,” he cried as he began squirming around. I held him close as JJ tried to be quick. 

“Look! Look! I’m all done!” she lifted her hands to show him that she was truly finished. “You got some pretty cool Batman’s band aids on your knees now,” she pointed at his knees, causing him to look down at them.

“What do you say to JJ,” I whispered, looking at my son’s face. She looked at me, then down at the boy on my knee with a smile.

“Thanks, JJ,” he mumbled before turning to hide into my body. JJ laughed, and looked back at me. 

“You’re welcome, Buddy,” she looked down at him again. 

“And, on that note… I should probably collect my other kid and go home. It’s nap time,” I looked at JJ as I handed her the stuffed Dinosaur. I really didn’t want to bid farewell to her. But, it was time to go. Time had flown by quickly, it was well past nap time and almost dinner time.

“I agree,” JJ frowned as she stood up. I sighed as I stood up beside her. We both called for our kids, waiting for them to run over to us. “Oh, we should exchange numbers… It was nice talking with you, and it’s nice to have friends outside of work,” she laughed as she turned to me again. I smiled and nodded before pulling out my phone.

"We’ll have to set up another playdate soon. I’m sure they all had fun together," I smiled, looking down at my kid. JJ looked at her kids, then over at mine, "Now that we’ve exchanged numbers and all. How would you guys feel about that?" I couldn’t help but let the smile grow across my lips. My cheeks started to hurt a little bit from how happy I was feeling. I honestly don’t remember the last time I was this happy.

"I think that’s a great idea," JJ smiled before looking back at me. I looked back at her and nodded. "And, maybe we can… have a date our… ourselves?" she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly, "Only if you want! I won’t press-"

"That would be… nice," I smiled and nodded, "I’ll call you?" 

"Sounds good! Have a nice night you three," JJ smiled at each of us before corralling her kids towards her van. 

"Who was that?" My daughter looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled as I watched JJ drive off.

"A new friend," I answered, looking down at her with a smile. 

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[rein4r1]

Portrait

Wc: 1.9k

Warning/s: Homophobia, Signs of Mental Illness, Mentions of Mental and Physical Abuse, Mentions of sexual activity, Dark Content

Pairing: [Modern AU] Mikasa x F!Reader (They/Them)

Genre: Fluff if you squint, Angst

Synopsis: On which Mikasa offers them a solution to their problems

or

They couldn't help but create a different reality

MINORS READ WITH DISCRETION

“So tell us Y/n L/n”

“Tell you what? I have nothing to tell you!”

“Tell us why you killed your parents.”

They pulled her knees to their chests, tightening their hold. The air from the AC doing nothing but worsen the already dreadful atmosphere. With shaking hands, they touched the side of their face, feeling the sting from where their father slapped them from hours ago. It wasn’t his aggressiveness that hurt them nor was it the shattered frame of a portrait that stood proudly on top of the island table, but it was their mother’s words; “I can’t believe we have a homosexual under our roof!”

Their parents were always conservative, believing that people who like the same sex are nothing but sinful. In all honesty, they believed every word they fed growing up. At least until they met her. Maybe deep down, they were already different from what their parents fear, just hiding in the closet. The first time they saw her was in the middle of the hallway, junior year in high school. To be honest, they didn’t have friends, them having friends is far-fetched anyway.

Not only did they hate their situation at home, but they also hate their situation at school. It’s not like they’re physically troubled by other kids, but they can always hear their murmurings, clearly them being the subject of their gossip.

“For someone with a pretty appearance, they sure are crazy.”

“Shut up! They might hear.”

School was already hell for them; just in the middle of the hallway stood a girl with short black hair, there she stood in the sea of despondence. They always had a downcast look, when was the last time they stared at anything but their feet. They can’t help but be drawn to her dark orbs, something about her enigmatic look draws them to her. The felt their body move automatically towards her, but in the heap of the crowd, she was gone. Their eyes searched any nook and cranny for her, hoping that there’s something she left by. And they felt it, the erratic beating of their hearts, as if nothing will help to calm it.

The next time they saw her was at the school’s courtyard, sitting at one of the benches looking like she’s lost in her own thoughts. They slowly approached her, sitting just at the other end of the bench. As if sensing their presence, her head turns towards them. Her face shows aloofness, but their eyes bore in theirs with curiosity. She turned her head back to the horizon, clearly not minding their presence.

“You look sad.” ‘What?’

“You look like… you’ve been failed by the people around you…” she continues as they look at her with sadness in their eyes.

“Wha- What are you talking about?...” And out of the blue, she pulled them towards her, letting their head rest on her shoulder. She brought her hand to caress their hair, and all they could do is cry. It’s been so long since they became vulnerable, looking no different than a walking corpse. “Don’t worry Y/n, I’m here now.” ‘Huh but how does she know my name?’

“Wait how did you-“

“I’ve always been watching you Y/n, I’m sorry it took me a long time.” They look at her face and saw genuine repentance. “But I haven’t- I don’t know who you are.” As if sensing their growing confusion, she smiled; “Mikasa, my name’s Mikasa.”

Mikasa is their first friend and the first person they talked outside of their family. They didn’t feel alone anymore with the girl beside them. The once suffocating halls didn’t feel smothering anymore. Their eyes didn’t look downcast, it slowly began to look less dull and look more with vigor. But that didn’t do anything to lessen the outlandish look their schoolmates gave them, their mumblings only continue to worsen. It didn’t matter anymore, since Mikasa is by their side, and she didn’t feel alone anymore.

Mikasa slept over at their house, this was something they’ve been looking forward the whole weekends. Lying together in their bed as they faced each other, Mikasa brought her nimble finger to draw in their features as she reached stay strand of their hair and placed it behind their eye. As if there was an unknown force that compels them to each other, they felt her lips brush against theirs in a gently manner. Feeling the way their lips moved in sync with each other, Mikasa’s kisses were steady, gentle, and slow

She looks at them as if she revers them with her whole entirety. They felt her hands drag across their skin like an adagio. Mikasa looked at their eyes for any signs of discomfort, but they only brought themselves closer as an answer. And that night, they made love under the light emanating from the moon.

A few days later, Y/n sat at the dining area with their parents for dinner. Their mother was babbling about how charming their neighbor’s son is. It fell into deaf ears of course, only having Mikasa in their thoughts.

“Y/n you should meet Mr. Grice’s son, I heard he’s about your age.” They snapped their head towards their father, they could not believe the words that came out of his mouth. Never in her life did he appreciate them having any malefriends. “You ought to have friends at your age, create a network with people.”

“I already have a friend ‘pa” he could only dismiss their reply. Their mother clearly being insistent on bringing the Grice boy and them together. “I know both of you are taking your exams for university, it doesn’t hurt having room for more people in your life.”

“I thought you never wanted me to have any guy friends.”

“But it’s the Grices we’re talking about.” They came to understand their mother’s intentions. The Grice family were considered wealthy and influential, who doesn’t want to marry into a rich family anyway? Obviously, Y/n L/n who only has Mikasa in their heart. Plus, the Grice boy already had an army of girls (and boys) willing to be his significant other. It was supposed to be a normal dinner, with them minding their business, leaving their parents to whatever chit chat they’re engrossed in. That is until, their father said something that triggered more on her already displeased mood.

“God, those sinners, parading around for some rights when they clearly don’t deserve any.” Her father muttered in disgust. The television was on, displaying news about a protest done by the LGBTQ+ community in accordance with the rights of their transgender brothers and sisters, considering that there is a rise of crimes towards the group. “If only they weren’t that then people wouldn’t-“

“I’m gay.” Their parents snapped their heads towards her, their expressions full of vexation.

“Y/n come again? What did you-“

“I’m fucking gay ‘ma, and I appreciate that the both of you stop asking those people for liability for something they clearly didn’t do, especially that they- we, are discriminated by people like –“ SLAP

They looked at their horrific faces, hand on their cheek. They expected this, they knew they were like this, but they couldn’t stand them any longer. They couldn’t help but think of Mikasa, the fact that they have this kind of mindset already means that after learning Mikasa’s existence, they’ll get in between them.

“I can’t believe we have a homosexual under our roof!” Their mother cried and their father’s face full of furry. “Go inside your room! We’ll deal with you later. FuckI can’t look at you right now without having the urge to murder you! And I don’t want to commit a sin like you!” Their father’s voice echoes around the room, as they quickly left her unfinished dinner, seeking solace inside their room. Sitting at the innermost corner of their bed, they leaned against the wall and brought their knees towards their chest. They expected them to be like this, but deep down they were hoping that they’d understand, that they’d accept them for who they are.

They felt their phone ring as they moved towards the bedside table and saw a text from Mikasa.

They immediately dashed towards their mini balcony, and there she is, Mikasa in all her glory. Seeing her made them break down, they found solace with this woman. To them, Mikasa is their sanctuary. Mikasa held them tight under the dark sky and the cold wind of the early hours of morning. She listened to them as they bawl their eyes out, pressing kisses on their face in hopes that this will make them feel better.

“I have something for you.” Mikasa reached something in her pocket to reveal a necklace with a vial as its pendant. They looked at the necklace with an astonished look, Mikasa then proceeds to wear the necklace on their neck. “You know you can do this Y/n” Mikasa smiled at them as she pressed another kiss on her shoulder, wrapping her arms around them. “I know you can”

Their parents woke up at the delightful smell of breakfast. They were bemused at the food that is already prepared on the table.

“Oh, both of you are awake, I prepared breakfast.” Their father looked at them suspiciously, but she only smiled cheerfully.

“What is this? Didn’t we tell you to-“

“I would like to apologize for yesterday, I was clearly stressed because of my exams. I was probably just confused… Yeah just stressed” they chuckled, they felt a bit unsure of their words, but they only brushed it off, content that their child finally came into their senses. They took a sip of their tea, as they began to converse with their parents. “You know about Grice, maybe I’ll approach him later at school.”

“Really? That’s great Y/n!” Her mother chimes.

“Yes ‘ma” They continue to look at their parents. Minutes pass as something went eerie that they could not explain. ‘Something’s weird’ their father glanced at their grinning face. They suddenly lack the ability to speak. As they slowly grow limp from their chairs. They could only stare at their child’s retreating form as the light in their gets swallowed by darkness.

“Tell us why you killed your parents.” Are they out of their mind? Kill? Why would Y/n kill their parents? They may have hurt them too many times, but they could never hurt their parents.

“Kill? I did not kill them!”

“The autopsy showed signs of poisoning, and the investigating team found its connection with the tea they drank. In addition, you were the last person they were last seen with.” They were confused, the tea?... The tea!

“It wasn’t me… It was… It was Mikasa!” Their eyes widen in confusion. “She gave me a vial. It was her!” They wrote their claim down on a piece of paper.

“Mikasa?... I need her last name.” He probes. ‘Wait, she never did give me her last name.’ The officer slid a small envelope. The opened it to reveal a portrait that looks oh so familiar. It’s one of the portraits her father flounced in the heat of anger. A portrait of a young woman with a baby in her hands. ‘No this can’t be… this is just a coincidence. This woman-‘

“-is Mikasa Ackerman, the one who gave birth to your mother.”

That night, they never received a text from her. It was only their alarm setting off.

An: I feel like this is badly written so bsoibhaoibh

I apologize for any grammatical errors and improper use of punctuation marks.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

Jim was startled awake by the buzzing of the intercom and could barely keep back a yawn as he dragged himself off the sofa and sloped towards the front door, his “quick kip” having turned into an hour-long nap. He wondered who would be visiting this time of the day. Freddie was away doing a photoshoot and Khaleel was at school, so he hadn’t been expecting any visitors.

‘Who is it?’ He mumbled sleepily into the intercom.

‘It’s me.’ A familiar voice replied.

Mary had started making a habit of popping around in the afternoon, even if she knew Freddie wasn’t there. Jim would make her a cup of tea and they would sit in the kitchen or the garden, chatting for a couple of hours. It seemed to be her way of extending an olive branch, and as odd as he sometimes found her, Jim was happy enough to oblige; having Mary as a friend was preferable to the hostility that once existed between them.

But when Mary stepped through the front door, Jim immediately sensed that something was amiss. The woman looked nervous, clutching a large carrier bag in her hands as her eyes darted around the hallway with uncertainty, like she was expecting a tiger to spring out of nowhere.

‘It’s lovely to see you.’ Jim took one of her hands in his own and pressed a kiss against her cheek, which seemed to pacify her, if only slightly. ‘Is everything alright?’

Mary hesitated, before giving him a rather forced smile. ‘Yes, everything’s fine.’ She glanced around again. ‘Freddie’s not here, is he?’

‘He has a photoshoot today.’

‘Oh, yes. Of course he does.’

Jim frowned, his thumb extending to gently stroke her knuckles reassuringly. ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’

She seemed tempted to lie again but must have realised that doing so would be pointless. She sighed and gave Jim’s hand a squeeze. ‘I need to talk to you about something.’

Jim took her through to the lounge, calling for Phoebe to put the kettle on for them all. He sat on one of the sofas beside Mary, noting how she fiddled with the carrier bag before setting it at her feet. Whatever was in it seemed to be the source of her discomfort.

‘Freddie’s parents have been in contact with me.’ She finally announced, taking Jim by surprise.

‘Ah.’ The Irishman now understood why she had been so wary about Freddie being present. ‘I see.’

‘I didn’t say anything because I knew Freddie would hit the roof if he found out I’ve been speaking to them. But they were desperate for my help and I didn’t know what else to do.’

‘You could have said no.’ Jim muttered, though he immediately felt like an ass when he saw Mary cringe with guilt. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. But he’s cut them off for a reason, Mary. They almost cost us our son.’

‘I know, I know. I’m so sorry, Jim.’ Her cheeks went pink and for a moment Jim was worried she might cry. ‘What they did to you and Freddie was unforgiveable. But they really regret their actions. They just want to talk to Freddie, tell him they’re sorry, explain.’

‘I don’t want to hear their explanations and neither does Freddie.’ Jim replied firmly. ‘There’s nothing to discuss. They did what they did, and there’s nothing they can say or do to redeem themselves. I know you’re just trying to help, Mary, but they’ve hurt Freddie enough. I won’t stand by and let them do it again. You tell them that if they truly care about Freddie, they’ll stay away.’

Mary nodded sadly. ‘I had a feeling you’d say that. I can’t say I blame you. Jer and Bomi have always been good to me but sometimes I think they blame me for not keeping Freddie “in check” so to say. Honestly, at times it felt as though they expected me to wave a bloody magic wand and just stop their son from being gay.’

‘They’re products of their time.’ Replied Jim with a sigh. ‘They’re good people, but if they can’t accept Freddie for who he is, then they can’t be a part of his life. Freddie’s tired of leading a double life, having to pretend he’s something he’s not for their comfort. His illness made him realise that life is too short to live by other people’s standards. I had hoped his parents would understand that but clearly they don’t.’

Silence overcame the pair, only interrupted when Phoebe walked in with a tray of tea and biscuits. The three of them fell into pleasant conversation for the next few hours, though Jim could tell that Mary had been upset by the whole ordeal and he made a point of holding her hand to comfort her. After Phoebe cleared away the dishes and retired to the conservatory, Jim escorted Mary to the front door, his eye falling upon the plastic carrier bag that she was still clinging to like a lifeline.

‘What’s in the bag?’ He enquired, ignoring his mother’s voice at the back of his mind reprimanding him for being nosy.

With great hesitation, Mary reached into the bag and pulled out a large baby blue quilt, holding it up so Jim could see. It appeared to be hand-knitted, embroidered with floral patterns and tiny white birds. In the middle, the word BIJOU had been sewn in thick, calligraphed letters.

‘Khaleel’s blanket.’ Jim observed, feeling his heart sink to the bottom of his ribcage.

‘She wants him to have it.’ Mary said softly, her eyes slightly moist. ‘In case she never gets to see him again.’

Jim knew that he should turn it down. He wasn’t going to be manipulated into feeling sorry for his in-laws, especially after everything that had happened. But he remembered the look of excitement on Khaleel’s face whenever he came back from Dādī and Dādā’s house and gleefully updated him on the progress of his new blanket. The child would sit and watch Jer knit for hours, following every rise and dip of the needle as if he was in a trance. Even two years later, he still asked about the blanket, confused as to why Dādī hadn’t finished it yet, why they never went around to Jer and Bomi’s for tea at the weekend anymore. Denying his poor boy the last remaining tie to his beloved grandparents seemed unacceptably cruel.

‘Thank you, Mary.’ Jim took the blanket, folding it up with the greatest of care. ‘I appreciate you telling me. I wish this could have turned out differently.’

‘Me too.’ Mary replied. ‘I’m sorry, Jim. Please, tell Freddie I’m sorry too.’

--

Jim had just sent Khaleel up to brush his teeth when he heard keys turning in the front door and the familiar sound of his husband’s voice calling, ‘darling, I’m home!’

He sighed, pulling out the blanket from where he had hidden it in the drinks cabinet and smoothed it out on the sofa, preparing himself for the row that was inevitably coming his way.

‘You won’t believe the day I’ve had.’ Freddie drawled as he glided into the lounge. ‘Roger came in with a raging hangover, so we all had to wait until he’d drank a litre of coffee before we-’

He cut off as soon as he noticed the blanket, the smile immediately disappearing from his face. Jim expected him to start screaming and shouting right then and there but he didn’t say a word. He seemed frozen, so shocked he couldn’t utter a syllable.

When he finally did speak, his voice was low and dangerous. ‘What the hell is that doing here?’

‘Mary brought it over.’ Jim said calmly. ‘Your mother gave it to her to give to Khaleel. She wants him to have it.’

More silence. Freddie wasn’t often left speechless, but right now he seemed genuinely lost for words. Jim could only imagine what was going through his head; all the suppressed memories that were suddenly resurfacing, coiling around his brain like a venomous snake.

‘Get rid of it.’ Freddie whispered.

‘We can’t keep this from him.’ Jim replied, being mindful not to raise his voice. ‘You know how much this blanket means to Khaleel. If he ever finds out we kept it from him, he’ll never forgive us.’

‘I want it gone!’ Freddie snapped, hands balling into fists like a stubborn child. ‘Why the fuck did you accept it? Why the fuck did Mary bring it? Who the hell does she think she is?’

He abruptly turned and started marching towards the phone, grabbing the handset, and stabbing at the buttons furiously.

‘Freddie, what are you doing?’

‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ Freddie growled, ‘I’m going to give that backstabber a piece of my mind! Hello, Piers? Put Mary on the phone. I don’t care if she’s asleep, put her on the phone right now-!’

‘Freddie!’ Jim snatched the handset and slammed it back on the receiver, startling the Persian man. ‘Don’t blame Mary for this. Your parents put her in an awkward position, and she did what she thought was right. I understand why you’re upset, and you have every right to be! But don’t take it out on her.’

Freddie scoffed. ‘Since when are you two the best of friends? She knows what my parents did to us, yet she’s willing to do their dirty work for them.’

‘She was just trying to help. She thought this might help you reconcile with them if you saw how much they care.’

‘If they really cared about me, they would have come themselves; instead, they’re using my ex-girlfriend as a fucking middleman!’

‘You know I resent them as much as you do, but we can’t go on lying to Khaleel forever. He hasn’t seen his grandparents in two years, Freddie. He’s always asking when we’re going to see Dādī and Dādā again, and I can barely look him in the eye when I use the old “they’re busy” excuse. One day, he’s going to find out what really happened, and he’ll resent us for not telling him the truth.’

‘And how the hell do you explain to a seven-year-old that his own grandparents don’t value him as much as his cousins because he’s adopted, and his parents are poofs? Please tell me Jim because I’d love to know! You don’t think I want to tell him the truth? Do you think I enjoy lying to his face whenever he asks about them? I’m so glad you have such a high opinion of me, darling!’

Freddie’s dark eyes swivelled to the blanket, sparkling with tears, and filled with hate; he suddenly grabbed it, making a beeline for the fireplace only to be intercepted by Jim.

‘Freddie, don’t.’ Jim begged, his grip firm on the blanket, though he made sure not to pull it in fear that it might tear. ‘Don’t do it. You’ll never forgive yourself.’

‘Fuck off!’ Freddie spat, tugging in an effort to get it out of Jim’s hands. ‘I don’t want any trace of those people in my house! If you truly loved me, you’d understand!’

Jim froze, his hold on the blanket loosening. Then he released it altogether.

‘Fine.’ He said coldly, in a voice that made Freddie feel like a ghost had passed through him. ‘Go ahead. Burn the damn thing. But when Khaleel asks me when his blanket is coming, I’m not going to lie to him anymore. You can explain to him that you tossed it into the fire. So, go ahead. Do it.’

Freddie stared at the flames determinedly, Jim’s words doing somersaults in his head. His fingers itched to just throw the quilt and watch it burn but picturing the look of heartbreak on Khaleel’s face deterred him from doing so.

‘Fuck.’ He hissed, tearing away from the fireplace, and fleeing the lounge.

Fucking Jim, he thought as he tore up the staircase, swearing under his breath as he made it to the landing and stormed towards the airing cupboard, fucking fucking Jim.

He threw open the cupboard door and was about to bundle the blanket behind the towels when he noticed the words that had been sewn into it.

BIJOU

Tears pooled into Freddie’s eyes. Almost instinctively, he brought the blanket close to his face and softly inhaled. It smelled of lavender and the spices Mama used for cooking. It smelled like home.

Freddie furiously wiped his eyes and shoved the blanket right into the far end of the cupboard.

Part 34 of the Jimercury kid series

Oof, you weren't lying when you said that angst was on its way for our favourite family. Firstly, Freddie's parents reaching out to Mary and trying to make her act like a pacifier, instead of say, Kash, is very plausible, especially after Kash's indirect involvement in the entire fiasco.

This is honestly such a tough decision for Freddie, and Jim too. No matter how big an olive branch his parents extend, the shadow of their actions will always loom over their relationship. I really feel for our two dads. And it's definitely not an easy thing to explain to Khaleel, either. But should they give it a shot? Or is it better to keep from their son the fact that his grandparents were the cause of his trauma?

I just love how well you're able to convey the emotions of your characters in such few words. I could not only see, but also feel their pain, and oof... hats off to you for being so evocative with your words.

I really cannot wait to see what happens next💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 7

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. There is violence in this chapter.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: *chants* BRUCE FLUFF BRUCE FLUFF BRUCE FLUFF. *sings* they're ain't no big thing just show them a little swing. Beneficial Cucumber. Author's notes are spoilers without context at this point... Y'all-

My beta, @miscmarvelwritings . We make the best duo. I am her dumb of ass and she is my gay. I love her.

Tony was elbow-deep in a robot when I came out of the elevator, Peter holding up the spare part needed, hovering next to the engineer. Without preamble, I was directed to help and dutifully fulfilled Tony's requests. Nothing indicated that my evening stunt ever happened besides Pete's faint blush; I might as well have written it off to the tank top hugging the upper part of my body in all the right places.

I was disappointed, I won't lie to myself - I expected Tony to tease me at least a little bit, snark something vaguely lewd and move on. But the engineer was quiet today, eerily so, almost to the point where it seemed he was ignoring me on purpose. My pride didn't let me begin any of our usual banter so I frowned in silence, making the appearance of a very focused person. Bolts and screws - most interesting things in the world!

As usual, I clocked out first around eleven thirty, leaving Pete and Tony some time to discuss their secret science stuff. Usually I would be exhausted by this point which left little to no room for jealousy but that night, emotions hit me like a freight train and it took me every ounce of my willpower to head out to Bruce's for the inevitable "I'm disappointed in you/Fuck safely" round of brainwashing.

My brain kept returning to the downwards tilt of Tony's mouth and the somber mood around him. I hated seeing him so...unhappy and tense.

The moment I set step in Bruce's lab, I saw the man's back hunched over a tube, I felt the same energy coming from him. What a fucking day! The sigh that left my mouth was resigned. "Bruce?"

A couple of seconds passed before he turned. He attempted a smile but it didn't reach his eyes at all. "Hi, Princess."

I cocked my head in defeat. "If this is the part where you lecture me, let's get over it. Or even better, you say nothing and we carry on," I pursed my lips, inspecting my nails in favour of actually facing the scientist.

I heard the click-clack of his instruments being placed on the table and the soft taps of his shoes against the tiled floor. His arms reached around my shoulders before I could even attempt to pull away, one of his broad palms tucking my face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm not mad, baby girl," He told me quietly.

I felt some of the tension dissipate, wrapped my arms around him, coming to a realization the man was all but melting into me.

"Just stay safe, alright? I don't want you to get hurt," With the same quiet tone, Bruce gently shushed my worries away. "If something is wrong, you can come to me. You know that, right?" He sounded painfully hopeful as he withdrew just enough to capture my face in his hands, forcing me to look him in the eye.

Something about the look in his eyes made my heart ache. I didn't have the heart to refuse, nor did I want to, so I nodded. Promptly, I was embraced yet again, his lips resting on the crown of my head, both of us swaying gently.

I've never wanted to cry so badly in my entire life.

"I'm a fuckin' mess, Bwucie, you haven't got a clue what you've gotten yourself into," I settled for a round of self-deprication instead. Bitter as it was, it was the barenaked truth.

"Then you're a beautiful mess," I could feel the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. So I smiled, too, obscured by his lab coat.

As much as I didn't want to leave the embrace, like, ever, I had to get home before one o'clock - before mother went to bed, zonked out on Valium and Ambien from the endless supply closet courtesy of my dad. "M'hafta go home," I mumbled.

Bruce sighed deeply. "I'll grab one of Tony's cars and drive you," He went over to remove his lab coat as I gaped. "I'm a forty-five year old man, I can drive." He chuckled humorlessly.

"Tony won't mind?" I asked the first question that popped into my mind to attempt dispelling the awkward moment.

"Trust me, he won't mind at all," Bruce mumbled darkly. I wondered what's up with that but the immediate future for me was already planned out: I was really looking forward to going home, crawling into bed with my clothes on and having a good old fashioned cry.

We made quick work of locating a set of keys and peeling out of the garage in Tony's shiny Audi R8, tires squealing on the wet pavement. It had stopped raining sometime during my robot building but the city was still filled with puddles. I could smell the moist, decaying leaves through the tiny gap of the window, the city was drowning in autumn like I was drowning in my own cluelessness.

The adrenaline rush, the weight of Tony's foul mood, the grief and pleading that radiated off Bruce mixed into a horrendous cocktail of misery and pain. Too much pain for my little, weak, dumb heart to handle. And all these people out in the streets, dressed to the nines despite the disgusting weather - laughing, hugging and drunkenly giggling, it was like salt on my wounds, rubbing it in how much of a good time they were having.

"This your house?" Bruce pointed at the black, high gate of the entrance to my garage.

"Yeah, it's a bit much," I nodded absentmindedly, seeing Bruce's eyes bulge at the sheer size of my estate. My mother wouldn't settle for any less than the best so having a monstrously huge (for NYC) home was what she got. Dad just signed the checks.

Bruce hummed.

I made a face, reaching for his warm hand and giving it a squeeze. "Thanks, Bwucie," Smiling at him, I used up the last of my good mood to show the gratitude he deserved.

He pulled me into a tight hug right over the middle console. It wasn't comfortable by any means with the numerous buttons and switches poking at the soft of my stomach but there was nowhere else I'd rather be than in his arms during that moment. The breaths that left me felt like they were punched out of my chest cavity by steel-toed boots.

"Good night, Princess. Sweet dreams." He kissed my cheek, lingering just a tiny bit.

I did the same, rubbing softly against his stubble and giggling at the ticklish sensation. "Night night, Bwucie."

I waved at him again as I unlocked my front gates and watched him speed off from behind it, obscured by the shadows of the decorative trees growing right behind the fence.

Bruce's face had morphed into something akin to torment or suffering the moment I disappeared from his immediate eyesight and it baffled me to no extent. I ransacked my brain left and right, searching for a reason I might have inadvertently caused him to feel that way but found none. The only logical reason was that he was just lonely. He didn't have many friends from what I gathered and if judging by the proud tone in which he spoke of Will-Mr Davies today, he desperately needed some other company than his teammates. I wish I could have helped.

Mother was nowhere to be seen when I entered the house so a beeline for my bed was successful. The ugly, loud, dry-heaving sobs weren't in any shape or form attractive or acceptable to show to anybody but me so when they forced their way out of me, the pillow keeping me company. I cried as for everything that was happening to me as much as I sobbed because of the self-pity I was indulging in.

It was pathetic, really. My mother would scoff and my father... Well, he'd offer me to 'cheer up, throw a party, do normal teenager stuff'. The bottle of wine I kept in my closet was empty in no time: I justified that as a single lady in a big city, I was entitled to relax once in a while.

Who was I lying to? I downed a bottle in twenty minutes just so I could fall asleep and begone from all this bullshit for a while.

On Monday, I anonymously submitted the documents pertaining to Thompson's behaviour to the school board and to a local newspaper that was known to dabble in socialite gossip. Next day, an investigation was promptly launched and important-looking people started to appear in the hallways, going in and out of the principal's office. Flash was pulled out of class by two police officers: at this point, half the student population was unashamedly filming it on their smartphones, me included. With grim satisfaction, I sent the video directly to the group chat with an added message of "so long, fucker".

Steve didn't even remark on my profanity, just sent a thumbs up.

It really fuckin' blew up the next morning. The news was plastered across every paper, every social media site - "Midtown Principal's son arrested for grand theft auto and assault", "Midtown Principal Being Investigated for obstruction of education" and other ridiculous headlines that had me, Bucky and Natasha in shit-fits.

Flash returned to school on Wednesday accessorized with a pretty ankle monitor and a sullen frown. During lunch, he sat only with two of his closest minions instead of the chatty group he was usually seen with. Everybody avoided him like the bubonic plague, even teachers ignored him.

With the final bell, me and Pete went on to look for Happy outside the school territory.

I was spending nearly every evening at the tower either in Tony's or Bruce's lab or sandwiched between Wanda and Bucky on the couch, gossiping while TV shows mutely played in the background. I had found a second friend in the face of Winter Soldier who, much like me, spent a lot of his days occupied by the internet or in a general state of confusion. Bucky was charming, funny and very flamboyant. I enjoyed the no-nonsense attitude and zero fucks that he gave the world in general.

The moment I stepped on the other side of the gate, I immediately knew something was wrong. Peter squirmed uncomfortably beside me, looking frantically in every direction, trying to spot Happy's car in vain.

"Ay, Parker," The familiar obnoxious voice of Peter's bully reached our ears. "You wanna tell me how you got your grubby little hands on that file?"

Thompson had brought back up with him, the idiot that he was. He was standing off to the side, leaning against the fence while five older boys surrounded us in a tight circle.

"Leave us alone, Flash, you're already in trouble," Peter tried reasoning with the bully meanwhile I... I was searching for a cleaner, dryer spot to dump my $1500 bag onto in preparation for the inevitable. I was no stranger to swinging my arm - as a frequent house party guest, I've had to fend off enough unwelcome advances. I've been told I have a mean, mean right hook.

"Bold of you to assume Peter would actually steal something," I stated in a bored tone once my bag was out of the way and Pete was standing securely behind me. I wasn't afraid of Flash, mostly because I knew he'd step back for the fear of retaliation from my family was usually too much.

"Oh, look at that, the weirdo is talking," Thompson mocked, getting up and standing right in front of my face. "You know, I don't get why the likes of you have to go to school with us, normal people. See, Peter here might be a little wimp but at least he won't shoot up the whole school one day because his daddy didn't love him enough," Thompson decided to test his luck. To finish his epic tirade with a flourish, he spat on the ground next to me.

I snorted. "Wow, that's an awful lot of smart words for someone as dumb as a doorknob," I shook my head in disdain. "Look, either you go now or I'll sue you so far up your ass, you'll be sucking dick in prison just to get something to fill your stomach with." And wow, that comeback was really, really good. I was proud of myself.

I saw pure rage mar Thompson's already ugly face into something demonic and ducked at the last moment, feeling the blunt sting of his knuckles connect with my left cheekbone. Reflectively I swung, too, decking him straight in the nose with all the rage and despair that was burning deeply inside of me at that time.

I heard gasps all around me as the students whispered, shouted and cheered at Thompson's confused form hitting the ground. He held his face and his palms were stained a deep crimson; I felt something warm on my face, copper in my mouth.

"Does anybody want some of that, too?" My tone was icy. I shrugged off the hand that landed on my shoulder, glaring down one of the boys who came with Thompson.

"Shit, cops, RUN!" One of the students suddenly shouted and just like that, both me and Flash were surrounded only by a handful of students who had filmed the entire incident on camera. God bless technology!

"Uh, I think you're bleeding," Pete timidly remarked from behind me, hand still awkwardly outstretched towards me. He cast a guilty look to the side where Happy was running towards us, phone held to his ear, no doubt already on the line with Tony and the rest of the Avengers. Shit, fuck, SHIT. I didn't plan for this!

The police officers called an ambulance for Flash and took my statement while I was holding my bleeding nose up to the sky, much to the officer's dismay. Happy had passed the officer his mobile phone and I briefly heard Tony's voice saying that I will be taken care of in the tower's medical suite - and let's face it, no cop will go against Iron Man's charm and wit.

As an eighteen year old, I could refuse the on-site medical assistance that the city provided and my parents weren't required so I was let go after my statement was taken and my injuries photographed.

Not that the photoshoot really was required. Multiple people had the incident on video, from multiple angles. It was an open and close case. I called my mother in the elevator (she didn't answer) and left her a voice message with the bare facts of the situation and my current whereabouts.

Seeing the whole team assembled in the living room, some nervously twitching, some anxiously pacing, I couldn't help but let out a slightly hysterical giggle. "Oh my god, guys, I'm not in a coma, stop acting like I'm in a coma!"

Bucky was the first to approach me, carefully hugging me and steering me towards Bruce. He looked a bit rough, green-ish? I guess. But the first aid kit was already on the table and Stephen Strange was hovering nearby.

"You decked the sucker real good, doll," Bucky's Brooklyn accent made his speech less intelligible but he definitely got all the cookie points for the heat and the passion.

"Ditto. Should've kicked him in the balls, too," Natasha smirked and Steve mirrored her smirk with a darker twist.

"I'm going to sue him so darn far up his ass," Tony seethed, looking absolutely livid.

"Don't worry, mother's got it handled," I obediently laid down on the couch, staring up at Bruce's wide eyes and Stephen's focused face.

"You are fearless and fierce, dear lady," Thor boomed from somewhere.

All of this was making me... Emotional. I just punched a piece of human garbage, it was not a big deal, okay? He had it coming. I chuckled uncomfortably, wincing when Bruce began dabbing at the dried blood on my face with a piece of gauze soaked in alcohol. "Petey, you alright?" I asked, worried about the sudden onset of silence from the usually chatty boy. He mumbled something. "Speak up, I can't hear shit with all the ringing in my ears."

That earned me a worried look from doctor Strange and a frown from Bruce.

"I should've protected you-I mean-it's not that you can't do it yourself, or because you're a girl, it's just-I," he suddenly stopped.

"Go ahead, kid," Tony urged him with unmistakable kindness in his voice.

"You see, I'm-I'm actually Spider-Man and I'm afraid to accidentally kill someone, 'cause I'm really strong." Pete blurted out.

I had to replay his words several times in my head to get to the gist of what he was actually saying. Shy little Peter? Spider-Man? So that's why he was such a fucking pacifist? I mean, it made perfect sense if he really was strong enough to lift cars and hold together collapsing bridges like I'd seen on YouTube.

"Huh," I stated after a brief pause. "I guess I did double the work today, dumped out some trash and prevented a potential murder. I'm on a roll and I deserve chocolate cake," I rambled to distract myself from the incoming dull headache and the sting of the alcohol against the split skin of my cheek.

Strange chuckled, looking, possibly, the happiest I've ever seen him. Bruce giggled too. A tiny bit.

"Friday, order the biggest, most expensive chocolate cake that can be delivered in... Two hours," Tony immediately spoke up.

"Cake," I mumbled happily, a strange drowsiness overcoming me, making my eyelids droop. "Hey-mmm, doc?" I slurred, seeing Stephen's face fall. "M'think m'concussed, f'king 'ell!" The snort that left his mouth was absolutely hilarious; I started giggling, too, startling Banner into action.

He picked up his phone, saying something I didn't understand at all.

"Y'kno," I had this totally bright idea I absolutely NEEDED to share with everyone. "Y'kinda look like the guy... Wha's'is name... Bendy-snap Crum-ble-sticks? No, wait," Snorts and giggles began to resonate through the room as the amount of Doctor Stranges suddenly multiplied by two. He was a WIZARD, that was so cool! "I think... Mmm, yes... Benadryl-Claritin? No-no-no, 'das meds," Woah, a lot of people were there and they were suddenly all laughing. I wondered what was so funny. It was hard to think with so many people laughing; my temples were pulsating uncomfortably. "Wait, I know, I know!" There were wheezing noises now, noises that distinctively reminded me of Tony and Wanda and Bucky. "Bubble-butt Coitus-snack!" I triumphantly exclaimed, finally happy to have gotten it right.

The laughter turned into truly demonic cackling, surrounding me, they were so loud I almost managed to get fully afraid. And then, I passed the fuck out.

TAGLIST IS OPEN Y'ALL.

@another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem

[tiredcath]

Zukka Fic Recs

after atla came back into pop culture i found myself falling back in love with zukka which resulted in me reading (almost) every zukka fic on ao3 and here are my favorites

Transference by The_Quatermasters (146k)

In a modern AU, Zuko has to deal with settling in a new school after expulsion, dealing with an angry ex and an abusive father. Maybe his new found friendships and growing closeness with Sokka will help him make it through. 

Borderlines by The_Quatermasters (73k)

Three years after the war, the work still isn't quite done and the Gaang is scattered across the continents in their efforts to help the world recover. When Aang and Katara pay visit to the Fire Nation where Zuko is Fire Lord and Sokka acts as Ambassador for the Water Tribe, sparks fly between the siblings over Sokka's life choices.

Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by Muncaster (47k)

Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes?

(AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

sirens & sleepless nights by Satirrian (54k)

Life can be pretty hard living in a city under a totalitarian regime. Between adhering to the ridiculous curfew, keeping himself from being gunned down by a passing patrolman, and paying his unnecessary tolls to the state for, say, breathing, Sokka has his hands full just getting to work. Add aiding a resistance group on top of that, and Sokka should really be getting paid for this.

Then, one night, Sokka finds an injured patrolman collapsed in the street, who tells him with blood on his lips, “If the patrol finds me, I’m dead.”

 Real Slow by surveycorpsjean (21k)

“I see.” Zuko closes the scroll. “Is the Water Tribe sending a replacement?”

“Uh yeah,” Sokka gestures to himself dramatically. “You’re looking at him.”

 First by HoneyBadgerMole (20k)

Zuko has been nurturing a crush on the jock in his AP Psych class but he has been too scared to talk to him until they get paired up for a project.

the benefits of getting a flat tire by LesbeanLatte (64k)

Zuko makes an impromptu decision to run away from home after a disturbing conversation with Azula. Unfortunately, some plans are better when they're actually, well, planned. Zuko isn't counting on getting a flat tire almost as soon as he's far enough away from the city to really be in the middle of nowhere.

Sokka is immediately taken with the stranger he and his friends find stranded on the side of the road during an afternoon joy ride. However, he has no idea what he's getting involved with and a kind attempt to help a fellow teen in need turns into a massive coverup for a missing person who just so happens to be the son of the mayor of Ba Sing Se.

Azula was just trying to help her big brother - in her own way - by telling him things she thought he deserved to know. Now the situation has gotten wildly out of control. Did she enjoy seeing Zuko upset and afraid? Of course. Had she intended to endanger his life? Not necessarily, but of course, her idiot brother overreacted to everything and that's what happened and now she doesn't know how to stop the chain of events she's indirectly put in place like dominoes.

Operation Leverage by snowandfire (50k)

Sokka's instincts are onto something great. Zuko just wants to serve tea and brood in peace. Ironically, Toph is the only one who can see what's really going on.

 The Stingray by Smediterranea (24k)

“You’re not carrying me.”

“I don’t mind,” the lifeguard says easily.

“I can just hop over.”

“On sand?”

Zuko will never admit it, but being carried feels pretty nice. The lifeguard sets him down and eyes him warily.

“Are you really all by yourself?” he asks in a worried tone. “No friends in town you can call to check on you?”

“No,” Zuko confirms. Tears are forming again with alarming speed; his foot throbs painfully with every passing second.

“What kind of burrito do you want?”

“You don’t have to —“ Zuko repeats.

“I’m getting al pastor. You like al pastor?”

 AU: Zuko falls for Sokka, the super hot lifeguard who helps him after an unfortunate encounter with a stingray.

 it's the illusion of separation by argentoswan (110k)

Sokka takes a job washing dishes at the new tea shop in town. It's a great gig, until he finds out his only coworker is his old high school bully. Sokka really should quit, but he also really needs to afford rent.

Also, Zuko is kind of hot now.

 People like to think war means something by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once (21k)

Sokka was the first to leave.

Somehow that hurt the most. . . . Not long after Zuko becomes Firelord, forces gather in the South and next thing he knows he's thrown into a civil war with almost no one by his side. Maybe healing is longer and more complicated than it needs to be, but with the right people by your side it is always possible.

 a way that will destroy you by anothermistakemade (14k)

In the wake of Ozai's death, Zuko begins to fall apart. Sokka will do everything in his power to make sure that doesn't happen.

-

or, zuko might be losing his mind, but he also might just be really sad & traumatized

 Those Who Favor Fire by CSHfic, VSfic (30k)

After a failed attempt on his life, Sokka fakes his death, dons a disguise, and infiltrates the would-be assassin's ranks in an attempt to bring them down from the inside.

Zuko learns of his husband's tragic death, mourns, and vows revenge.

 Words Mean More at Night by DaisytheDoodleDog (28k)

Even ten years after the end of the war, rebellions rise and risk the balance of the nations. Sokka was willing to do anything to protect his people, which is perhaps why he's leading an army against the rebellion, attacking only as a last result. But Sokka's unwinding, it's taking a toll on him, and the only thing keeping him grounded are the letter Zuko and him exchange late in the night when no one can see the messenger hawks. But as they say, nothing's fair in love and war.

another word for wanting by eurydicees (23k)

Sokka begins to dream of his soulmate when he's eleven years old, and it just gets harder from there. Or, 125 moments soulmates share, and none of them come easy.

(In which your dreams are your soulmate's memories, and Sokka dreams of an all-consuming fire, growing and eating at his soulmate until it burns up the connection between their souls. In which they find love anyways.)

 It Has Only Just Begun by Kirazalea (39k)

There is a bitter triumph in crashing when you should be soaring

Zuko had now chosen the path his uncle had been trying so hard to show him; he had someone who believed in him, who maybe loved him; he was travelling with the Avatar and they apparently had a plan to end the war. By all accounts, Zuko should be smiling.

But Uncle was gone (captured by Azula, and Zuko didn't think she would kill him, but he didn’t, couldn’t, know for sure). The Avatar was barely breathing (he could still die at any second and there was nothing any of them could do about it). Azula had conquered the last Earth Kingdom stronghold (all those innocent people who were now at her mercy). It seemed like, for every step Zuko took forward, the world sent him back three more.

But he was determined to push forward anyways. He needed to make his uncle proud, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

aka: zuko joins the gaang at the end of season 2

 Nightmares and Reveries by HisMomoness (20k)

Zuko doesn't sleep because when he does, he's haunted by nightmares. Sokka worms his way into a job and makes it his mission to get Zuko to relax. Lots of head pets and one vacation to the South Pole later, Zuko might just be getting the hang of it.

Cue pining, some fluff, and eventual romance.

 The One Who Stopped Time by ohhihoney (66k)

All hope was lost to Zuko until one day, his uncle asked a random person at the Jasmine Dragon to tutor his nephew. Gritting his teeth and embarrassed beyond the point of no return, Zuko gave the blue eyed boy his number.

Little did Zuko know how much Sokka would change his world.

 Rubbed Off Stars by ohhihoney (2k)

Sokka wasn't going to just sit and watch the boy at the back of the bus cry while trying to rub off pride flags off his cheeks.

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

WIP

Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought (168k)

After that fateful Agni Kai, Ozai makes a different call. Branded as a traitor and banished to a prison camp, Zuko learns how cruel the Fire Nation can be to its citizens. Three years, a water tribe raid, and an unexpected meeting with a gang of over-enthusiastic idealistic children puts Zuko back in the spotlight. The revolution is coming and it wants another poster boy, but Zuko is not willing to lend his face to the cause.

 Another Brother by AvocadoLove (312k)

It was a mission of revenge. There weren't supposed to be any survivors, but Chief Hakoda couldn't bring himself to kill the Fire Nation boy. Against his better judgment, he brought him home. A Zuko joins the Water Tribe story.

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

BONUS : zuko x jet

Something to Hold Onto by Wildgoosery (122k)

Since the day the walls of Ba Sing Se fell, the Freedom Fighters have struggled to protect what remains of the city and its people. Jet and his second command, a mysterious boy named Li, have spent the summer piecing together an army, hoping for a chance to take the city back for good. But Li is also Zuko, and the time for that secret is quickly running out. Soon, he'll have to decide exactly who he is, what cause he's going to fight for, and where his heart lies.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Resol’nare - Part Seven

A/N: This part has a lot of bits that I have been excited to share. There are a lot of pieces of my own HCs in here, as well as a few plot hint crumbs that I’ve had fun developing, so I hope you guys enjoy this one! (Also sorry it was late- we got power back late last night and I was too lazy to post after making dinner. oops. Don’t worry, I already formatted eight so this won’t happen again next week) Also, also... Fennec and Boba are fun to write :) 

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: The Mandalorian makes the journey back to Tatooine to take care of some things back at the covert after his run in with Navina on Nevarro. More is revealed about the goings on in the upper levels of Boba Fett’s complex, we learn what he and Fennec are up to, as well as a little more about how things are run below. And we finally hear what Bo-Katan has been itching to tell him. 

Warnings: descriptions of violence, death, talk of manipulating kids (if you’re unsure feel free to ask) 

Word Count: 5.6k

Tatooine. 

  The suns were sinking into the Dune Sea by the time he pulled Peli’s rental speeder into one of the hidden bays at the rocky base of Fett’s palace complex. There were three other occupied spaces, leaving just the one to his left empty. A quick scan of the vehicles that were there told him immediately who wasn’t. Fennec. Hers was the easiest to recognize. She had painted it a heavy matte black, accented with a weblike design of crisscrossing red lines. It wasn’t inconspicuous but she didn’t want or need it to be. If one of her targets saw her speeder and made the connection, it was already too late for them to turn and run. She liked knowing that they felt some modicum of fear or at the very least panic in the seconds before she struck, and he couldn’t blame her. They had it coming. 

For too long the scum that she and Boba were after had run nefarious crime rings that preyed on scared, young kids with nowhere else in the galaxy to turn. It was how they’d both ended up in their line of work, Boba swept into a life of violent instability in the aftermath of his father’s death, and Fennec developing a kind of admiration and a misplaced feeling of owing her employers for rescuing her from being sold to a brothel as a child. The slime had wasted no time in manipulating her, taking that gratitude and twisting it into something ugly and sinister, crafting her into a sniper, a trained, leashed killer, trading one horrible outcome for another. By the time she realized how trapped she truly was, the price on her own head had climbed so high it had very nearly gotten her killed. 

He winced thinking back to when he’d found her crumpled form in the sand. His thoughts had flashed so quickly to Grogu, to getting back to where he was and ensuring his safety, that he had only given Fennec a cursory check for any signs of life. Had Fett not been tracking the Mandalorian in search of his father’s armor, the woman would have died there in the desert. But the grizzled wanderer had found her, and saving the assassin from the brink of oblivion had given both of them a second chance. Fennec had been freed from the things that held her feet to the flames, and Boba had been given a reason to care for someone other than himself. He may have never been in any real peril on Tatooine- Not even in that pit if how I’ve seen him fight is any indication of how he handled that Sarlacc- but two souls were saved that day regardless. Though they worked as a pair and while Fennec deferred to Fett at first, she gave him her loyalty because she chose to, not because she was made to, and he gave her his respect because she had proven herself to be just as resilient as he was.  

Now, having taken the palace from the Hutt crime family and rooted out their presence on the planet, the two child killers turned vigilantes had started working on the galaxy’s other crime rings. Their sights were currently set on the Black Sun syndicate, and they had been working on picking away at one of their strongholds in Ord Mantell City, dispatching those who gave them no new information immediately, and freezing and bringing anyone who might have something useful to share back to the complex on Tatooine. Karga and the Bounty Hunter’s Guild on Nevarro had even been helping them, and more than a handful of the Mandalorians from the new covert had offered their assistance as a way to repay Boba and Fennec for providing them the space. Yes, they were taking the law into their own hands, but he had seen time and again how easily the New Republic could be made to look the other way, so he had no personal or moral objections to what they were doing. 

And so far they had brought three children under the age of thirteen back to the covert. The kids were being held captive as leverage so that the Black Sun leaders could keep control over their parents, often threatening them with things unspeakable should they refuse to do what their bosses required of them. The youngest was no more than five. After they’d been fed and tended to by the Healer and given a place to rest in the tunnels below, Woves one of the Mandalorians he’d first met on Trask, had set out to get in touch with the guardians of the rescued children. Since joining the cause to unite the clans, Axe had become increasingly interested in participating in educating and caring for the covert’s children, even assisting the Instructor in teaching new sparring techniques or sharing the perspective of someone who had grown up on Mandalore when it came to more cultural or historical lessons. Though he’d tried to make contact multiple times using the information that he had on the children- only their names and home planets- just the two older boys had been claimed by living relatives. 

The smallest, a girl barely reaching the top of Woves’ boot, didn’t seem to have anyone anywhere. Though he continued to try to locate the child’s kin, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the Armorer was presiding over the gai bal manda, the man who had once been one of Bo-Katan’s most feared fighters kneeling in front of the entire Tribe and swearing to protect and raise the child as a warrior, as a member of his clan. As his own. 

Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad. I know your name as my child. Grogu. 

He felt a tug in his chest, just behind his rib cage as he dismounted the speeder, those big round eyes blinking at him from beneath that wrinkled green forehead and those over large ears filling his thoughts before he could guard himself. With a sigh, he wished for what could have been the hundredth time that he had been given the chance to take that vow, swear those words… Raise my son. 

Slinging his bag across his body and ensuring that the Darksaber’s hilt was clipped firmly to his belt with one hand, the other went to one of the leather pouches at his waist. Without needing to look, he pulled the small silver ball from its designated spot, spinning it twice between his thumb, index and middle fingers. We’ll see each other again. I promise. The metal sphere slipped smoothly in his gloved grasp, the object giving him comfort. It was something tangible, a link to the thing he carried in his heart for the child that had upended his entire world. Bo-Katan might understand Woves’ choice if she… He let out another breath and tucked the ball away. But all she can see is Mandalore. 

The sharp-eyed, orange- haired heiress was not too keen on her former companion’s sudden calling towards child rearing, but swearing an adoption vow, promising to care for a foundling, was such an integral part of Mandalorian beliefs, of The Way, that she knew better than to try to talk him out of it. She would lose any credibility that she had as a leader if any of the others caught wind of that. She still had Reeves, and Hast,  one of the few that had made it off of Nevarro, had also volunteered to help her search for other hidden coverts and lone stragglers in the far reaches of the Outer Rim, on the quiet, often overlooked planets in the Mid Rim, in the corrupt and crowded cities of the Core Worlds. And if she wanted more help I’m sure there are others who would go. 

He cringed, tilting his chin down to glance at the innocuous looking object knocking against the beskar tasset covering his left thigh with every step towards the tunnels he took. If she wanted, I could… He reached across his body to wrap his hand around the sword's grip. It still felt strange. Unnatural. I could order others to join her mission. Dropping it as soon as the thought crossed his mind, it hit the beskar beneath it with a loud clang that echoed in the dark passages that connected the speeder bay to the main hall. Leadership in a fight, in a battle, in negotiations, while all still outside of what he would have chosen for himself, were things that he could get his head around. But making demands? Setting punishments and enforcing laws? It was the things that ran in that vein of what it meant to be the Mand’alor that gave him the most pause now that the Armorer had assuaged some of his other doubts regarding the title that had been thrust upon him, unwanted. 

Thing after thing. Loss after loss. Responsibility after responsibility. That had been his life for nearly four decades, and it didn’t seem like his burdens would be getting lighter any time soon. For the first time since he left Nevarro two days before, he thought of the woman he’d run into there, whose stolen vambraces he was bringing back to be reforged. Navina. Though he’d only spent a few hours with her he had picked up the impression that difficult trials and heavy hardships followed her wherever she went, too. He wondered if that was uniquely Mandalorian, or if there were others who understood the same level of loneliness that sometimes came when such strength was constantly required of a being. She had spoken of her clan; of losing her mother and being separated from her father and the foundling that her family had taken in, not knowing after all that time if they were still alive. He knew the odds and she seemed clever enough to know them, too, and though he had sympathy for her, it also made him feel less like he was alone in struggling to carry an ungainly load. I have to remember to ask the others about her father… Harsa. That was the name.  

There were several things he had to do on this trip, asking about Navina’s family name just the latest addition to the list. After promising the Armorer on his last visit that he would begin training with the Darksaber, he knew that he would be spending at least two sessions with the Weapons Master, learning how to wield the legendary black blade. We’ll start with the beskad, though. He was firm in that and he knew that no one would argue with him. He wanted to check in with Fett, make sure that the arrangement was still working and that the man didn’t need anything from him. He had no doubt though, that if the man running things topside had any issues, he wouldn’t hold them back, not hesitating to contact the Mandalorian directly to launch his complaints. His directness was one of the things that he liked most about Boba, and one of the reasons that he had been so quick to trust him. I hope he’s free now. I’d rather start there then…

The last thing that he absolutely could not leave the planet without doing, was meeting with Bo-Katan for a debrief on the recruiting efforts and to begin discussing tactics for reclaiming their ancestral homeland. Hers, anyway. She wasn’t happy that he had put it off for as long as he had, but again, he knew that she wouldn’t voice her displeasure for fear of the optics of disagreeing with the Mand’alor. Politics. His top lip curled at the thought that he would have to get good at knowing how to keep people on his side, even when he knew that their endgames were slightly out of alignment with his. Maybe she’s in the sparring hall now. He knew that she spent hours training with Reeves and Hast whenever she came back to the covert, and he hoped that was where she was now. 

If he was being entirely honest, something about her still didn’t sit well with him, but he knew that he didn’t have to like everyone to work with them. 

Striding the last few steps through the winding passage, he finally reached the plain stone archway, a circular splotch of light from one of the torches visible on the other side of it. Two helmeted Mandalorians stood guard, but moved aside as soon as they saw the signet on his shoulder and the Darksaber on his belt. 

“Olarom yaim, Mand’alor.” The shorter of the two spoke with a nod, welcoming him home in a voice that cracked too adolescently for the modulator in the newly sworn fighter’s helmet to hide. A kid. He recalled the first few years after he’d finished his required training in the Fighting Corps, the cockiness, the harsh lessons that no amount of studying or practicing in the sparring hall could prepare him for. He’s just a kid. 

It was different though, the way that Mandalorians allowed Tribe members to swear additional oaths inducting them into the elite group of warriors at seventeen, than what the syndicates did, how they inducted their young members. We learn and train our whole lives for it. Understand what we’re agreeing to. Not like… He swallowed a sudden spike of rage at the thought that the quiet, innocent child that was likely still latched to Woves’ right leg would have otherwise ended up raised to be a mercenary -or worse- for the Black Sun. But she won’t now. 

“Thank you,” he responded to the young guard cursing himself for forgetting the Mando’a translation. I need to do better with that. Again he felt his thoughts backtracking to Navina and the way that he’d heard several Mando’a words roll easily off of her tongue. Maybe she can… when we meet again in a few weeks, maybe she can help me with… He sighed. There was a long list of things he needed to talk to her about when he saw her next, just like the list of things that awaited him at the top of the staircase he was currently climbing. He wanted to know more about her pendant, about the seam they had found in the metal that hinted at a modification that was made well after the piece had been crafted that would allow the Mythosaur to hold the peculiar stone that shone purple. He wanted to know more about what had prompted her family to leave Concordia, why they were running and why they’d had to separate. He wanted to know anything that he could from her and any other Mandalorians he encountered that might help him be the Mand’alor that the young guardsman and everyone else in the covert seemed to think that he was. 

As soon as he ascended the last few steps though, his thoughts were interrupted by a heavy arm falling around his shoulder. “Still in one piece then, Mand’alor?” 

Boba Fett’s gruff, gravely voice was oddly comforting, and he knew that he was likely one of maybe two people who thought that. He returned the one armed thunk that he supposed the other man took for a hug. “Seems that way.” The man’s heavily scarred face pulled up into a jagged looking grin, the expression almost jarring on such a serious visage, but then a rumbling chuckle came out and took the smile with it, leaving his features in their natural scowl. “Everything alright here?” 

The Mandalorian followed Fett through the large main hall, past the stone slab throne that he only occupied when passing judgement on those that he and Fennec brought back once any useful information could be wrung from them, and through to the long table that had been brought in for strategy meetings and sharing information with the Bounty Hunter’s Guild and others who agreed to offer help. “Everything’s fine,” he said with a grunt, gesturing flippantly with one hand, pulling a chair out from the table with the other. “The Princess wasn’t too thrilled when she found out she’d have to wait for you, but tell me, Mandalorian, is that woman ever truly happy about anything?” 

He had never so much as seen her smile. Pulling out a chair of his own, he simply shrugged. It seemed unlikely. “I’ll meet with her as soon as we’re through here.” Fett nodded. “I had… urgent business on Nevarro.” 

“Urgent?” One eyebrow rose on the man’s forehead. 

“Yes, I met another Mandalorian, only she was,” he tilted his head to the side as the image of Navina’s silver-gray eyes staring at him through her shattered visor flashed in his mind. “Different.” 

Boba answered with another gruff chuckle as he reached for the jug of spotchka that was never too far away. “Different, was she?” He took a long pull, the remnants of his teasing laugh still there when he lowered the jug and swiped the back of his free hand across his mouth. 

What? No, that’s- He leaned forward, elbows on the stone surface as he made a quick slicing motion with one hand. “No. That’s not what I meant.” 

It wasn’t. But as he dropped his palms back to the tabletop, he could recall the way it felt when he’d gripped her biceps, shaking her from her dreams. He had been concerned that she would hurt herself or more inconveniently, break one of the controls in the cockpit with the way she was thrashing in her sleep. But what he remembered now, hands flat before him, was how it felt to make contact with her skin, even if it was just through the thick padding of his gloves. He pressed his thumb down hard on the table like he had pressed it into the crease of her bent arm, squeezing the muscle there to get her attention. She felt strong and warm and solid and he almost held onto her for too long, caught up in the feel of another body beneath his hands. That isn’t what I meant. 

He cleared his throat and went on. “She hasn’t sworn the Creed, but she carries out the traditions, she can fight, knows things about Mandalorian history-“ he looked up at the man across from him, Fett abandoning his ribbing to regard the Mandalorian seriously. “She had a helmet and a dagger made of pure beskar.” 

“And you’re sure she’s not a thief?” 

Technically she is. But she didn’t steal the helmet or the kal. She didn’t steal the pendant. “They belonged to her parents.” He explained what the woman had told him about how her family had been split up- how she had known for a fact that her mother had been killed, but that since it had been years since she’d seen her father or the other child in her family, she had no way of knowing if they were still alive. “She… she asked me to spread word here at the covert, in case anyone knows where to find her father. Harsa. His name is Gavil Harsa.” 

Boba shrugged. “Don’t know any Harsa. But then, I’m no Mandalorian either. Your different girl and I have that in common.” 

She’s not my-

But before he could protest what had just been said, voices from the same entrance he had come through caught his and Boba’s attention, the other man standing as Fennec’s dry, smirking tone could be heard greeting the guard at the door. “You’re back.” He stated, opening his arms wide, his voice booming across the otherwise empty space. “What took so long?” He dropped his arms as Fennec maneuvered a carbonite block through the doorway. 

She cocked her head in the direction of the hardened, frozen slab containing what could have been any number of humanoid species, their features completely indiscernible but clearly contorted in terror. “Ixon here didn’t want to come quietly.” She turned to pull the block the rest of the way through, the unit hovering weightless and only needing her guidance for direction. “It was actually quite a workout.” She grinned. “For him.” Fett let out another gravelly laugh as Fennec turned her attention to the Mandalorian. “Mando,” she smiled and used one hand to push her long black braid behind her. “Good to see you.” 

“Fennec,” he nodded a greeting. “You’ve been busy, I see.” 

“Nothing for the Mand’alor to worry about,” she winked, shoving the block containing Ixon more roughly than necessary. “Just dealing with the trash.” She winked as she walked through, waving off Boba when he tried to assist her. “I’ll handle this one on my own.” She patted the side of the unit with an almost malicious gleam in her dark eyes. “It’s personal.” 

“I’d pity him if he weren’t walking slime,” Boba offered her the spotchka jug but she declined with a flick of her wrist. 

“He might not be walking when I’m done.” She gave the block another shove towards a door on the other side of the large room, her lips lifting in a quick snarl. “See you around, Mando,” she called over her shoulder, disappearing with Ixon, not waiting for a response.

“They say if you love your job you never work a day in your life,” he clapped a large meaty palm on the Mandalorian’s arm. “And Shand loves her new job.” That much is obvious. “Speaking of jobs, Mand’alor,” he gestured with his jug towards another set of stairs that led to the tunnels that the covert was using, the blue liquid sloshing gently as he did. “I’m sure yours is calling.” 

He stiffened. “Yes.” 

The man, gnarled by life and the things that had tried to drag him from it, set the jug down then. “Taking that planet back… well, you know what I think there.” I do. From first mention, he had not held back his opinion of the mission. “But bringing this many Mandalorians together under one roof? And they haven’t killed each other yet? I know you didn’t ask for this but,” he narrowed his eyes. “That’s no small feat.” 

It was as close to true praise as Boba Fett had likely ever bestowed upon anyone, and he knew that. It was also the truth. He thanked the man and crossed the room to yet another doorway that led to a different set of stairs. This time though, as he shifted the bag on his shoulder, the metal pieces inside clanging together, he did not stop on the landing and wait to pass off the reclaimed beskar to a middleman. This time, he continued down the second set that brought him to the forge. 

It was quiet, the Armorer taking a rare break from her unending task of providing the best protection and defenses that she could for her people. As a child it was easy for him to forget that there was a human beneath that pointed gold helmet. Her understated power, the sparks that flew frantically from her hammer, the ability she possessed to craft such stunning objects all contributed to the almost mythological status that he and the other small children regarded her with. He still admired and respected her and held her in higher esteem than anyone else in the covert, he knew that even the Armorer needed to eat, needed rest, needed to give her own ears a reprieve from the ringing of her tools battering hot metal. 

Entering the room for the first time since the covert relocated to Tatooine, he gave himself time to take the space in. Slowly turning his head he scanned over the work table, all of the tools neatly arrayed, each one clean and sharp and shining, each one a weapon in its own right. The forge itself was unlit, the mouth that usually spat fire simply open in a gaping yawn, but as he ran his hand over it he felt the residual heat that never completely faded. He wondered if what was left of the forge back on Nevarro still retained any warmth. 

Drawing his hand back, he stepped over to the small table that the Armorer used for meeting with the recipients of her work. Reaching into his bag, he took the vambraces that Navina had surrendered and set them on the surface between the two empty stools, leaving them for when the Armorer returned to her duty. She’ll know what to do. And where they came from. He would return to the forge the next morning to speak with her in more detail about the items’ provenance, and also to spread Navina’s family name to the member of the Tribe who was most likely to know it. He gave the room one last scan, slowly turning his head so that he could see it all through the eyeline of his visor, then left, continuing on with his own list of responsibilities. 

A handful of the covert’s children, some in the second hand helmets of the older ones, others belonging to clans that didn’t cover their faces at all times displaying smudges of dirt across round cheeks, were gathered in the widest portion of the hall. Engaged in some game that he likely played himself at that age, they shrieked and laughed and jumped. The kid would love it here. He could easily picture Grogu waddling into the group of young Mandalorians and fitting in without a problem, and he hoped that he had other children to be a child with while he underwent his Jedi training.

Continuing on and following the fork to the left, he headed next for the sparring hall. Unlike the forge, it was not empty. He could already hear the sound of practice staffs clashing, and the Instructor’s voice calling out advice to his trainees. One of the fighters grunted as they lunged or swung, and he knew right away from the sound that it was Bo-Katan, the heavy footsteps he heard suggesting that she was training with Hast. 

Since she was occupied at present, he stopped at the door beside the entrance to the sparring hall to arrange sessions with the Weapons Master. The man seemed pleased that the Mand’alor was ready to start working with the beskad in preparation for the Darksaber, and gave him his choice of available times for one on one training. Slating himself for three instead of the two he had planned on, he thanked the man and, with nothing left to do to push it off any longer, he entered the sparring hall and prepared to speak with Bo-Katan. 

She was still locked in a battle with Hast, the hulking man nearly twice her size but incredibly nimble for his weight and width. Blocking a swing of her opponent’s staff, the helmetless woman gritted her teeth and gripped her own weapon, holding it horizontally in front of her chest to take the force of the blow. Her feet slid back but she dug them in and gave a strong shove. Staffs still connected, the push set Hast off his balance just enough for her to turn the staff and whip it down and behind the man as he tried to regain his footing. In a sweeping blur she used it to take his legs out from under him, and he fell hard to the ground. Following all the way through to the finishing position, Bo-Katan flipped her staff around, jabbing it a few inches from Hast’s helmet, signifying her victory. 

It was impressive, but the Mandalorian knew that she was a skilled fighter, having seen her in live battle. She extended a hand to help Hast up, then turned towards the entrance. “You’re here.” It sounded almost skeptical, and he noticed the tiny twitch of her brow, hardly any sweat beading there after her workout. “Back from your,” she passed the staff behind her to Hast who took both of them back to the wall, the Instructor stowing them on their pegs. “From your urgent business?” 

He’d been expecting her to be upset, so the bite in her tone wasn’t a shock. “Yes.” He answered simply, not willing to allow her annoyance to spark his own. “I’m ready to discuss plans with you.” 

Her eyes narrowed, lips pressed together in a thin line as though that was the only thing keeping her frustration in. She swallowed, then let out a short breath and gestured toward the door. “Shall we, then?” 

The Mandalorian nodded and once she’d thanked the Instructor and Hast for the session, she followed him out into the hallway, the two heading for one of the smaller halls that had been designated for closed door meetings. “Thank you, for your patience.” He knew that she hadn’t been patient, but that she wanted it to seem like she had. “I had things to tend to, but I’ll be here for about two weeks, and I,” he opened the door to the room, letting her in before him and then closing it after he entered. Letting out a small sigh that he knew she wouldn’t be able to hear, he continued. “Aside from training with the Weapons Master I can spend as much time as necessary working with you.” 

Her cheek jumped as she gave a quick smile that was more of a forced smirk. “Well, that’s great news.” Pulling out a chair, she gestured for him to do the same, which he did. “Because we have a lot to discuss.” 

She went on to tell him that she, Hast and Koska Reeves had come back with ten adult Mandalorians from a covert located in the Mid Rim, and four children that had been part of their clans. There were a few that had chosen not to come back to Tatooine, but he and the others had all agreed that no one would be forced into joining them, that it was a decision only they could make for themselves. Still, adding fourteen to the Tribe in just one trip was something of note. For most of his life he had thought that his kind were far closer to extinction than they were. It was encouraging to see their numbers grow after so much time spent thinking that they were alone, and he hoped it gave the others that joined them there that same feeling of hope. That even if the quest to take back Mandalore were to fail, they would still have a safe place there where they didn’t have to hide in the shadows and only gather in groups of twenty or fewer. At least they were united now. At least they had a home.    

She went on to tell him about the old rebel base they had heard about on the remains of Concord Dawn, a planet in the Mandalore System that had all but been destroyed in the centuries of warfare that plagued that portion of the galaxy. Largely uninhabitable, and missing nearly a third of its mass, the planet had been abandoned ages ago. But it’s proximity to Mandalore made it a good candidate to set up a base of their own once the battle for their planet began. She outlined what would be needed in terms of weapons, fortifications and troops, and stated that once they had acquired and allotted the required supplies, she would like to accompany him on a trip to Concord Dawn so that he could see it for himself before the base was established. 

Agreeing to all of this, he listened as she laid out her plans for obtaining what was needed, giving her another two hours of his time before exhaustion started setting in so heavily that he wouldn’t have been able to listen to much more even if it was the most interesting topic in the universe. Assuring her that they could pick up where they left off the next morning, he excused himself from the small room and headed for the chamber that he always slept in when he was at the covert. 

He didn’t know why, but as he removed his helmet he thought again of the woman he met on Nevarro, and how he was about to begin a war to take back her home planet. Unbuckling the rest of his armor piece by piece and laying it out to be polished and cleaned, he wondered if she would ever go back to the place she was born once they had won it back, or if their own traditions would make her feel unwelcome there. Frowning, he hoped that wouldn’t be the case, that he would help build the kind of society that welcomed anyone who was an ally, whether or not they swore an oath. Would she take the creed? Pulling the breastplate cuirass over his head, he wondered if it was even something she would want to do. She said she wasn’t given the chance… what if she was? 

Shaking his head to clear her from his thoughts, he finished taking care of his armor for the evening, focusing on the lightness in his limbs that came from removing all that weight, and sunk into the mattress, finding sleep as soon as his eyes closed. 

But the head shake hadn’t cleared her completely, his dreams tinged with purple light and the echo of her name.

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[jovialpersonheroflap]

Peter Mason worked too hard. At least that’s what his secretary, Mrs Tasker kept telling him. She told him he ought  to take more time off than he did, stating that he didn’t even use up all of his given holidays. Peter usually dismissed her and continued with his work. After all, his work was all he had. He was middle aged and had never been married, so he had no wife or children to spend his money on. He did have a weakness for expensive watches but that was about it. He often thought he should do something with his money, but he couldn’t think of something good enough. So he just saved it and continued working.

“Mr Mason, you really should leave, today’s a half day after all. And it’s the start of a long weekend, perhaps you could go to the continent?” said his secretary, standing at his office door.

“Thanks Ruth, but I think I’ll keep going, I’d like to have this section finished by the end of the day.”

“Peter,” she said, “you can’t just keep on working, even you need a break.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Let me not keep you from your husband.”

She looked as if she was about to say something but just sighed and left.

He’d come in on a bank holiday, as some of them did, but he’d resolved to do the full work day, which no one else did. Most people were using the long weekend to spend time with their families and friends, but since Peter had no family of his own and his few friends were more concerned with their own families, he was alone tonight. And when he was alone he preferred to spend his day working. At least that distracted him from the loneliness.

Evening soon came, and he decided that it was time to break for dinner. He could order what he usually did on nights like these, the same pasta dish from the restaurant nearby that he liked. But he felt bored, and wanted to shake it up a bit. Why not order pizza? Live like it was his uni days again. Uni was a much simpler time, less to worry about, fewer people pitying you because you were still single in your forties. So he would. Dominoes, he decided, for old times sake. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d voluntarily ordered pizza but he knew he couldn’t eat what he used to be able to eat in uni. Something smaller then. A bottle of coke, a medium pizza and maybe some garlic bread. He ordered and the little indicator telling him how far his order had progressed came up. It was different to what he remembered, but that was to be expected. Now, back to work until the food arrived.

Eventually the food did arrive, the ring of his phone alerting him to the fact.

“Um…hello?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some food for...Peter? I’m outside your building.”

“I’ll be right down.” He walked to the elevator on the other side of the building to his office and descended. He worked on the seventh floor, halfway up the fourteen floor building. Only the first nine floors were used by the company he worked for, the top five were used by another company who rented the space. He made it to the ground floor and walked out of the building, tapping his card on the sensor to open the gate. He looked around and spotted a car with a man in uniform standing next to it and made his way towards it.

“So you’re Peter?”

“Yep, that’s me.”

He opened the back door and brought out Peter’s food.

“Here you go.”

Peter looked down to take the food from him and his eyes fell on the guy’s bulge. It was visible through his tight jeans and it looked like he was packing some decent size. Peter caught himself staring and looked back up at the guy’s smug face.

“See something you like?” he said, grabbing his bulge while a smile played at his lips.

“Um…uh…I’m sorry…I didn’t…have a nice evening!” Peter turned and ran. Well not ran, just power walked back to his building and away from the embarrassment that he’d just endured. To be caught staring! That wasn’t like him. Maybe he really did need to get out, it seemed as if he was starting to go crazy.

He ate his dinner at his desk, watching an episode on his computer. He’d planned to get back to work so he could leave early, but he’d got a bit carried away with Netflix. So he continued working, determined to finish the section before he left. His phone buzzed and he checked it. He always checked his phone, as cases could change quickly and he might be needed to make decisions or inform other people at short notice. It was a text from a number that wasn’t in his contact list.

-  You want me, don’t you? 

Peter was shocked. How did this guy get his number? He did call him earlier to come and collect his pizza so that’s how he did it. But still, how rude of him to presume something like that of him.

-  Excuse me but that’s really inappropriate.

He put down his phone and got back to work. Another message arrived.

-  My shift ends at 11:30. Text me your home address and I’ll let you blow me.

The nerve of this guy! Peter had found him attractive, and though his cocky, overconfident attitude was making him all the more attractive, Peter was not going to give him his home address. That would be reprehensible! But he was hot, thought Peter, and he wouldn’t mind sucking him off. No! He looked young enough to be his son! He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

He did. He sent the guy his home address and didn’t even finish his work by the time he left at eleven. But he had to get home before midnight, before he did. Peter waited eagerly for him. He hadn’t even responded to Peter’s text, so he didn’t even know if he was coming.

Midnight came, and Peter could not sit still. Look at me, he though, jittering about like an eighteen-year-old. He was acting like an eighteen-year-old, offering to blow someone he’d never met.

Ten and a half minutes after midnight his doorbell rang. Peter opened the door to find the very guy, still dressed in his Dominoes uniform.

“Well?” he said, snapping his fingers in from of Peter’s stunned face. Peter quickly recovered and led him through to his living room. He plopped himself down on the sofa while Peter stood in silence.

“Got any booze?” he questioned, or rather demanded.

“Uh…I’ve got some wine, white, red, rosé, and some whiskey…”

“Whiskey. Neat.”

Peter hurried away to get the drink. It was quite expensive whiskey, as he’d been gifted it last month for his birthday. He hadn’t gotten very far into it, only having drunk a few glasses.

“Hurry up!” he heard from the living room as he quickly poured the glass. He replaced the stopper and took the glass out to him. He took it and took a long sip, drinking about half of it. He looked Peter up and down.

“So. Peter. I’m gonna make this very simple for you. The name’s Callum. Wife? Kids?”

“No, neither.”

“So what, the right bird never flew your way?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

“Nah,” said Callum, “it’s ‘cause you’re gay.” He drank the rest of the whiskey and held out his glass. Peter walked over and took it to refill it.

“And don’t take for fucking ever this time.”

He brought back another, a little fuller then the last one.

“So,” said Callum, “as I’ve said, I’m gonna make this very simple for you. You get my dick in your mouth, ass, hands, wherever you fucking want it. Maybe I’ll even let you fuck me. But we’ll have to see about that. In exchange for that, you’re gonna be my wallet.”

“Your wallet?”

“Yeah. Everything I ask for, when I want it. You’ve got a lot of money by the looks of this house, and you’ve got no one to spend it on. So there’s the deal.” He took another swig of whiskey. Goodness, he was drinking that like it was water!

Peter stood in silence, thinking on the offer. Callum set his glass down on the coffee table and unbuttoned his jeans, letting his meat flop out.

“Come on, it ain’t gonna see to itself.”

It was then that all of Peter’s resolve melted away. He could resist no longer and walked over to the boy. He kelt and started to remove his suit.

“No. Only your tie. Keep everything else on.”

He did as he was told and went down on Callum, with Callum’s hand firmly guiding the back of his head.

“I hope that dick is worth it old man, because I’m really gonna enjoy making those pockets hurt.”

[ollyarchive]

Interview

Olly Alexander on success, sanity and It's a Sin: 'All those hot guys. I loved it!'

Simon Hattenstone

The Years & Years frontman is starring in Russell T Davies’ new drama about the Aids crisis. He talks about bulimia, his ‘dark’ clubbing days – and how he learned to enjoy filming sex scenes

Mon 11 Jan 2021 06.00 GMT

Olly Alexander was so certain he was destined for success that he saw a therapist to help him prepare for his future fame. It was 2014 and his band Years & Years had just signed to Polydor when he visited the shrink.

“I said: ‘The album’s coming out and I really want it to be successful,’ and he said: ‘What happens if it isn’t?’ I said: ‘Well, that’s not an option because I have planned it in my diary since I was a teenager.’”

That diary was less about chronicling the present than a series of promises he made to himself. “I planned my life till I was 25. I would be a famous musician ’cos musicians were the coolest people in the world. The biggest thing in the list was buying my mum a house, and I did that. That was the coolest thing to be able to do with my money.” He smiles. “That was the coolest thing ever.”

Now Alexander might well benefit from another visit to the shrink because he’s about to become a lot more famous. He stars in It’s a Sin, the brilliant new TV drama by Russell T Davies, about a group of young gay men living and dying through the Aids epidemic in the 1980s. The five-part series is funny, vibrant, sexy and heartbreaking.

This is by no means the first time Alexander has acted – he has appeared in the TV series Skins, films such as Bright Star (about Keats), Gulliver’s Travels and Great Expectations, and on stage in the West End alongside Judi Dench and Ben Whishaw in Peter and Alice; a pretty impressive CV. But with It’s a Sin, he knows he has struck gold. “Some actors would wait their entire careers and not get such a good role,” Alexander says, and he’s right. Davies has made a habit of creating groundbreaking TV series (Queer As Folk, Bob and Rose, Torchwood), and this is his best yet.

Alexander’s character, Ritchie Tozer, is an aspiring actor/singer who has just moved to London from the Isle of Wight in search of fame, fortune and a good shagging. He embraces his new freedoms with promiscuous abandon, while also struggling with his sexuality. Ritchie is equally cocky and vulnerable, lovable and insufferable.

Although It’s a Sin takes place in a time before Alexander was born, he says there are so many ways he relates to Ritchie’s life. There is one crucial difference – whereas Ritchie is secretive, Alexander is an open book. If there’s anything to tell you, he’ll tell you, even if he is embarrassed a second later about his indiscretions. It’s an endearing quality, and one that makes him great company.

We meet in his agent’s east London office in December, when Tier 4 restrictions are yet to kick in. Alexander is a boyish 30 – half punk, half catwalk model, with orange hair, earrings, multiple rings, stylish khaki trousers and a handful of inky tattoos. He is garrulous and giggly with a huge toothy grin.

Like Ritchie, Alexander was a stranger to city life when he came to London. He was born in North Yorkshire, went to primary school in Blackpool and Gloucestershire, and a comprehensive in Monmouth, south Wales. He was a natural performer who wrote his first song at the age of 10. “I performed it in my year six assembly.” Can he remember it? He squirms. “Yeah!” Let’s hear it then? “No!” Oh go on! “OK, OK. ‘The leaves are falling outside my window. I’m lay here all alone,” he sings quietly, in that delicate falsetto. He giggles, blushes and continues. “And now I’m a knowin’, the way it’s goin’, we won’t last for ever, for ever my love.’”

Wow, those lyrics are pretty sophisticated – and melancholy. He giggles again. “Oh thanks. It’s about unrequited love. Doomed love. I was getting in early on my themes. I had a bit of help from my dad.” He wrote it after experiencing his first pangs – for a boy in his class.

At secondary school Alexander was a victim of homophobic bullying. He responded with elan. “I would still come to non-uniform day in eyeliner.” Did he fight back? “Sometimes I would scream. I was not a good fighter. We did rugby a lot at my school – a Welsh school. The one time I scored a try, on the way back to the changing room the two popular boys from the year put their arms around me and said: ‘Well done, Olly,” and I was like: ‘I can’t believe it, this is it!’” He pauses long enough for me to get a glowing feeling. “Then they tripped me up and pushed my face into the mud. That was hard to live down.” After that he never went to another games lesson.

When he was 13, his parents separated, and from then he was brought up by his mother, events organiser Vicki Thornton (his real surname – Alexander is his middle name). His father had been a talented but disappointed singer-songwriter who made a living marketing theme parks. Although he gave young Olly a lifelong passion for adventure rides, there were tensions between the two of them. After his parents split up, he broke off contact with his father. When Alexander became successful, his father tried to rekindle their relationship via Twitter. Alexander wasn’t impressed.

With the sod-you eyeliner and supreme belief that he would make it, he sounds incredibly robust. So what else was in that teenage diary? “Pppprrrr.” He blows his lips as if feeling a sudden chill. “It’s a bit dark. I used to write that I really wanted to be skinny.” He exhales deeply. “My mantra was always: I’m not going to eat this again, I’m not going to eat cake again. I’m never going to eat pasta.” He was barely into his teens when he became bulimic and started to list the things he wouldn’t eat. Actually, he says it was worse than that. “I was writing down: don’t eat, don’t eat, don’t eat. Did he have a weight problem? “I was a little chubby at primary school, but no.” What does he think it came from? “It was something I could control. I felt very out of control in the rest of my life. I was struggling with my sexuality, my parents were divorcing, and I wanted to punish myself.”

I want to give him a hug, but I’m not sure he would appreciate it, particularly in the pandemic. Why did he want to punish himself? “It was self-loathing. I didn’t want to be gay. I was convinced I was the reason my parents were splitting up.” He never considered that their divorce may have had nothing to do with him.

He started to cut himself, too. Has he still got the scars? He points to his upper arms and thighs, “because people can’t see there. I was deeply ashamed of doing it. I wanted to hide it.” Are there many scars? “No. A friend saw a plaster on my arm and jokingly asked if I’d been cutting myself. After that, I was so embarrassed that I mostly stopped doing it. Bulimia carried on well into my 2os, but it became less and less frequent. It’s really hard to hold down any kind of job if you’re throwing up food all the time, and ultimately you have to choose.” It becomes a full-time occupation? “Yes, it’s all you think about. And you’re doing so much damage to your organs. I got taken into hospital once with my mum because I had this irregular heartbeat, which can happen through constant purging, and that really scared me. I thought I’d done something irreparable to my body, and my mum was so distraught. She couldn’t understand why her son was throwing up all the food she was trying to give him. She found out because I hadn’t cleaned the toilet properly.”

After studying performing arts at Hereford College of Arts, he moved to London and was liberated. He had a heady time of it – more drugs, clubbing and sex than even he had hoped for, while also getting regular work as an actor. But there was a downside. He saw friends struggle, sacrifice themselves to excess, fall by the wayside. “Everything was about going out and connecting with people at the clubs. I had a great time, but it was also a dark time. A lot of people took too many drugs. A few friends attempted to take their lives and one succeeded. That was devastating. You can see how easy it is for a party lifestyle to turn into something negative.”

Alexander has a strong survival instinct. There was his destiny to fulfil, the house to buy for his mother. He still struggled with his mental health, so he cut down on the destructive stuff. Today, he says, his main drug of choice is the antidepressant sertraline. “I was worried about longterm use, and the doctor said: ‘Well, the latest research shows it can promote neurogenesis, and I was like that’s the coolest thing ever.” Neurogenesis is the process by which new neurons are formed in the brain. “She was basically saying antidepressants are giving you superpowers, and I was like: ‘Amazing, I’ll keep taking them for ever.’” He starts giggling, and he can’t stop. “Neurogenesis – ooh, I love that. I’m going to be neuro-supercharged.”

Years & Years formed in 2010. Founder member and synth/bass/keyboard player Mikey Goldsworthy heard Alexander singing in the shower and asked if he wanted to become lead singer. When Alexander joined, Years & Years were a five-piece band, before shrinking to an electropop trio (Alexander, Goldsworthy and fellow guitarist and keyboard guru Emre Türkmen). Alexander, the main songwriter, has an ear for great sweeping choruses (think Sam Smith meets Pet Shop Boys with a dash of New Order). Their first album, Communion, went to No 1 in the UK, while the song King topped the singles chart and its follow-up, Shine, reached No 2. Many of their songs are about yearning and doomed love – particularly on their second album, Palo Santo – just like the first one he wrote aged 10.

Alexander also became known as an LGBTQ campaigner. He made a documentary, Growing Up Gay, for the BBC in which he talked to his mother in a tear-filled exchange about coming out; he also interviewed people about struggles with their sexuality, the pressure to be promiscuous and take drugs, and addressed schoolchildren about homophobia and mental health problems. Does he think of himself as an activist? He shakes his head. “It does a disservice to actual activists. There’s a tendency to use that word for anyone in the public eye speaking up about any issue. Going into schools and talking about mental health isn’t activism. I like doing that. If I can be helpful, I want to help.”

The week before we meet he was named celebrity of the year at the British LGBT awards. He doesn’t know why – he says he didn’t do anything in 2020. “Maybe they heard about my upcoming role and got in there early!”

He says he has learned so much from making It’s a Sin – not least about acting, and how tough it can be. “Doing an acting job where you have to turn up every day is really challenging. I was so used to my musician lifestyle, which is usually: get up late, get in a car, get driven to an airport, get on a plane, fall asleep, arrive somewhere, get driven to the venue, roll out of the car and do the show. It was too much like hard work every day. I thought I’d got past this!”

We see a lot of Alexander in It’s a Sin – in every sense. He gets more than his share of sex scenes, and says it was fascinating being taught how to do them properly. So he enjoyed them? “All those hot guys. That aspect I loved! And going into it I thought, I’m going to have so much fun doing this, I’m a confident-ish guy, love having sex, it will be great.” That’s so refreshing, I say, to hear actors admit they enjoy sex scenes.

Ah, well, he says, it wasn’t quite that simple – he initially became self-conscious. “I broke down into hysterical tears, like ‘don’t fucking touch me’. I found it really hard.” Then the intimacy coordinators got to work on him. “They were a life-changing experience. Intimacy coordinators are there for safety ’cos there’s a lot of shit that can go wrong between what a director wants and what an actor wants, and boundaries being crossed. They’re there to rehearse everything beforehand with the director and the performers. You talk about animals you might imitate, the sounds you make.” He pays tribute to intimacy coordinator extraordinaire Ita O’Brien, who introduced the Intimacy on Set guidelines in 2017 and worked on Normal People as well as It’s a Sin. “Anything with sex in it, she’ll be involved. She’ll be on all fours at one point, saying: ‘Now I’m going to be like a cow and moo in ecstasy.’ She’s amazing, amazing, amazing.” And yes, he did start to enjoy the scenes.

Did he find them arousing? Now it’s my turn to blush and I apologise for the question. Did he start to enjoy it too much? “No, that’s what I want to know. What if someone gets a hard-on – how embarrassing would that be? Ita said: ‘It’s natural and normal for certain body parts to get excited and if you get an erection that’s absolutely fine, but it’s not appropriate for the workplace.’” He adds a caveat: “Depending on what kind of job you’re doing. And she said: ‘If that happens, you just take a time out. So you’re all there thinking, OK, how embarrassing – because you say time out and everybody knows it’s because you’ve got a hard-on. Hahahhaa!” Did he have to take a time out? “No!” Did anyone? “Not to my knowledge.”

Who did he have most fun with? “I’d say best kiss was the guy who plays Ash [newcomer Nathaniel Curtis]. Great kisser.” And the best shag? “Sexual simulation,” he corrects me. “Best sexual simulation was Roscoe [Omari Douglas, another relative newcomer].” Has he told them? “It’s all coming out in this article, Simon.” And I can sense him calibrating what he has just said. “It’s going to ruin my standing!” But a second later he changes his mind. “No, that’s a compliment right? I compliment them both. Hahahaha!” And he laughs giddily.

I ask about the future. You sense he’s not sure where to go from here, acting-wise – that it can’t get any better than It’s a Sin. Fortunately, he owes the band an album’s worth of songs. He had them done and dusted before the pandemic. “But all that time in my flat going insane made me realise I didn’t like any of the music, it didn’t feel relevant. I just wanted to start again, which is what I did. Now it’s almost ready – again.”

It will be only their third album in seven years. “I know,” he says. “It’s embarrassing. Ariana Grande has had about five out in the time we’ve done one.” In the meantime, he says, Türkmen has had one baby, with another on the way.

What about his own love life? “It’s pretty dire.” Sex? “I’m hopeful to have more sex … it’s very difficult in the age of Covid if you’re single. I actually tried to lock someone down who would be my ‘friends with benefits’ sex buddy, because I saw that Holland were advising people to do that. In the first lockdown I said: ‘Look, we can just have sex with each other. I trust you, you trust me, we’re not together, but this is an arrangement. I’ve not had sex in six months, what do you think?’ But he said no. I was quite upset. So yeah, not a lot of sex in 2020.” For a split-second, the puckish Alexander looks forlorn. Then he grins his toothiest grin yet. “But I’m hopeful that it will pick up in the new year!”

It’s a Sin is on Channel 4 on 22 January at 9pm