#but i didn’t even want that car in the first place and then it just grew on me a ton so hopefully the new one will too

[regressionschool]

Going full toddler part 2: arrival

[part 1]

The car rolled to a stop in front of the cottage, the tires crunching softly against the gravel driveway. Marie rubbed her eyes, still slightly groggy from the long drive, her thumb absentmindedly brushing over the edge of her sippy cup.

Her first thought as she peeked outside was that the place looked like something out of a storybook. The cottage had soft, cream-colored walls with ivy climbing up the edges, and the windows had little flower boxes bursting with bright, happy blooms. A white wooden fence lined the garden, and behind it, there was a small swing swaying gently in the breeze. Everything about it felt warm, peaceful, and oddly perfect.

But her second thought—the one that sent heat rushing to her cheeks—was the realization that Steve was already stepping around the car to open her door.

Her stomach flipped.

She suddenly became hyper-aware of everything: the thick padding pressing against her bottom, the unmistakable crinkle that followed her every move, the soft pastel overalls stretched over her diaper, the childish pigtails that Daddy had put her hair in that morning. And yet, as Steve unbuckled her seatbelt and lifted her effortlessly out of the car, the friendly faces of the neighbors didn’t even blink.

A woman in a flowy sundress waved from a nearby porch. A man watering his garden gave a small nod before returning to his work. No one stared. No one whispered.

It was almost like… like this wasn’t unusual at all.

Marie’s blush deepened as she buried her face against Steve’s chest, wrapping her arms around his neck while he carried her towards the house.

“Aww, is my little one feeling shy?” he teased, giving her a soft bounce as he adjusted her in his arms.

Marie mumbled something unintelligible into his shirt, not daring to lift her head. She didn’t understand why no one seemed surprised to see her like this. Normally, in public, Daddy was a bit more subtle, a little more discreet. But here? He didn’t hesitate at all.

“Come on, princess, let’s get you inside.”

Steve pushed the front door open, and Marie barely had time to blink before she was completely overwhelmed.

The moment they stepped inside, Marie’s breath hitched. The inside was nothing short of a Little’s paradise.

The first thing she noticed was the playpen set up in the living room—a large, soft, padded space filled with plush toys, blocks, and a fuzzy pastel rug that looked perfect for crawling around on. Against one wall sat a massive crib, its wooden rails painted a soft cream color, big enough for her to sleep in comfortably. The changing table nearby had neatly stacked rows of thick diapers, powders, and wipes, everything meticulously arranged.

Her stomach flipped.

She didn’t even realize she had taken a small step backward until Steve’s hands landed gently on her shoulders, keeping her in place. “Like it, princess?” he asked, his tone teasing but warm.

Marie swallowed hard. Her fingers fidgeted at the hem of her shortalls. “I… I mean…”

Steve chuckled, clearly amused by her flustered state. He turned her gently, steering her toward the kitchen.

There, in the center of the room, stood a large highchair. It looked sturdy, designed for someone her size, with a soft cushioned seat and a little tray attached. She could already picture herself sitting there, kicking her feet while Daddy fed her spoonfuls of something mushy. The thought made her squirm.

“And if you ever want some fresh air…” Steve guided her to the back door, swinging it open to reveal a small garden with a swing hanging from a sturdy oak tree.

Marie sucked in a breath. It was overwhelming—so much thought had gone into this space, so much preparation. This wasn’t just a weekend getaway.

This was a place built for her.

Before she could protest or try to piece her thoughts together, Steve lifted her effortlessly under her arms and carried her back into the living room. “Alright, little one. Daddy needs to unpack. And you…” He walked toward the playpen.

Marie’s eyes widened. “W-Wait, Daddy, I can just—”

Her protests were cut off as Steve set her down inside, his hands firm but gentle as he guided her to sit. The moment she did, she felt the thick padding beneath her press against her, the faintest squish reminding her that’s she was already wet.

Her blush deepened as she looked up at him, pouting. “Daddy…”

Steve crouched down, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “No fussing, sweetheart. I’ll only be a few minutes. I want you to play like a good girl.”

Marie’s lips pursed. She crossed her arms but didn’t argue. Not really.

Steve smirked knowingly. He reached into the playpen and grabbed a soft stuffed bunny, placing it in her lap. “Be good, princess.” With that, he stood, ruffling her hair one last time before heading off toward the bedroom to unpack.

Marie huffed, gripping the bunny in her lap. She looked around the playpen, her gaze flicking over the plush toys, the stack of colorful blocks, the soft blankets. Everything in here was meant to keep her entertained, meant to make her feel small.

Marie sat in the playpen, clutching her bunny tightly as she watched Steve move back and forth, unloading the car. At first, she tried to act disinterested, her eyes flicking around the room like she wasn’t paying attention.

But she was.

She saw him bring in the diaper bag first, the familiar pastel tote that she knew was packed with all the necessities for the weekend—extra diapers, wipes, powder, cream, and even her pacis tucked neatly into the side pockets. Her stomach flipped at the sight of it.

Then came his suitcase, a sleek black one that looked downright boring compared to everything else. He set it by the bedroom door before disappearing back outside.

Marie shifted in place, the thick padding beneath her crinkling softly. She pressed her stuffed bunny against her chest and rocked a little, telling herself she was just sitting—not playing. Not getting caught up in little space.

But then… her eyes landed on the soft plush blocks stacked neatly in the corner of the playpen. The pastel colors caught her attention, the letters and numbers embroidered in gentle, looping stitches. Her fingers twitched.

Before she could think too hard about it, she reached out, knocking the stack over with a tiny push. The satisfying thump of soft fabric hitting soft fabric made something flutter in her chest. She picked up one block, turning it over in her hands, tracing the shape of the letter stitched into it.

Then another.

Then another.

And before she even realized it, she was lost in her own little world, stacking the blocks as high as she could, only to giggle softly when they tumbled down again.

She didn't notice how much time had passed. Didn't even hear Steve moving around the house anymore.

It wasn’t until her body gave her a different kind of reminder that she snapped out of her daze.

A pressure in her bladder.

At first, she barely reacted, shifting slightly in place. But as the feeling grew, she instinctively pressed her thighs together, her bottom shifting against the thick padding. It was a subtle reminder—one she could ignore if she really wanted to.

But the moment she focused on it, her body took care of the rest.

A tiny gasp left her lips as the warmth spilled out of her, soaking into the thick, crinkly padding beneath her. Her breath hitched. She didn’t even fight it—just let it happen, her body melting into the familiar sensation of relief.

By the time she was done, her entire posture had softened, her shoulders drooping as she sank deeper into little space. The wet padding pressed against her, warm and squishy, hugging her in a way that made her cheeks burn.

And then—without thinking—she reached for her bottle.

She didn't even realize what she was doing until she was already drinking. The cool liquid filled her mouth, and she suckled softly, small rhythmic pulls that felt… comforting.

It wasn’t until she was a few gulps in that the realization hit her.

She had just wet herself, without hesitation. Without even stopping to think about it.

And the very first thing she did after was reach for her bottle—like a good girl.

A deep, involuntary blush spread across her face. She squirmed, shifting in the now soggy padding, but instead of pulling away from the feeling, she found herself curling around it, hugging her bunny closer as she nursed from her bottle.

The warmth. The comfort. The way she felt so little in that moment…

Her tummy flipped, and she whined softly behind the bottle’s rubber nipple, embarrassed and weirdly proud all at once.

She wanted Daddy to notice.

Would he check her soon? Would he praise her for being such a good girl?

Would he tease her?

Marie sucked a little harder, her legs pressing together, her breath a little quicker now.

And then, as if on cue, she heard the soft creak of the bedroom door opening.

Footsteps.

Daddy was coming back.

Steve stepped back into the living room, his eyes immediately landing on Marie.

The sight that greeted him made his smirk grow.

There she was, nestled in her playpen, nursing her bottle with both hands, cheeks flushed pink, her legs shifting just enough to betray her squirmy state. She looked up at him briefly but quickly averted her gaze, her lips still wrapped around the nipple of the bottle.

His sharp gaze flicked from the scattered plush blocks around her to the way she fidgeted, her movements slower, heavier—and he knew exactly what had happened.

His little girl had gone potty for Daddy.

Crouching beside the playpen, he reached in and ruffled her hair, making her squeak softly. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “Such a thirsty little girl. Having fun?”

Marie gave a tiny nod, still suckling at her bottle, her fingers gripping it tighter. She peeked up at him shyly, but when she shifted again, a tiny squish filled the space between them.

Steve’s smirk deepened.

He knew that sound.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached down, pressing his warm palm gently against the front of her shortalls, his experienced touch confirming what he already suspected.

Marie froze.

The pressure of his hand against her made her whimper softly, her legs squeezing together on instinct.

Steve chuckled, giving her a teasing squeeze, feeling the soggy warmth beneath the fabric. “Mmm,” he mused, voice full of knowing praise. “Someone’s all squishy and warm.”

Marie’s face burned.

She wanted to deny it, to squirm away, but she couldn’t. The evidence was right there, pressed snug between her thighs, and Daddy had already found out.

Steve wasted no time, his fingers moving with practiced ease to the snaps on the crotch of her shortalls.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Each snap undone so effortlessly that Marie had no time to protest before her shortalls fell open, revealing her very wet, swollen diaper.

She wriggled, flustered beyond words, but Steve’s hands were already on her hips, keeping her still.

“Uh-uh,” he murmured firmly. “No fussing.”

Marie whimpered again, her fingers clutching her bunny as she tried to hide her face, but that only made Steve’s smirk widen.

He admired the sight before him—his little girl in nothing but a damp, swollen diaper, the padding pressed so snugly against her.

He cooed softly, his fingers trailing over the smooth plastic of her diaper before giving it a gentle pat.

“You didn’t even try to hold it, did you, sweetheart?” he praised, his voice warm and teasing.

Marie shook her head, still sucking her bottle, still so small under his gaze.

Steve’s expression softened, his fingers brushing along her cheek. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured. “That’s exactly what diapers are for.”

She whimpered at that, feeling herself sink even deeper into her little space, the praise making her tummy flutter.

Then, without another word, Steve slipped her shortalls off completely, tossing them aside.

Marie’s eyes widened. “D-Daddy…?” she mumbled behind her bottle, her free hand instinctively tugging at the hem of her shirt to cover herself.

Steve’s smirk never wavered as he watched Marie’s fingers fidget with the hem of her shirt, her subconscious attempt to cover the swollen, soggy state of her diaper. It was adorable, really—how she still tried to be shy about something so inevitable.

With a slow, knowing shake of his head, he reached forward, effortlessly prying her hands away from the fabric and pinning them gently at her sides.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, tilting his head as his fingers trailed lightly over her exposed tummy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Marie squirmed, her breath hitching as she clung to her bunny. “N-Nothing…” she mumbled behind the bottle, her voice barely above a whisper.

Steve chuckled, one hand drifting downward, his palm coming to rest on the thick, swollen front of her diaper. He gave it a firm but gentle pat, grinning as the squish beneath his hand confirmed just how soaked she was.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed knowingly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Doesn’t seem like nothing to me, princess. Looks like someone’s trying to hide her little soggy pampers from Daddy.”

Marie whimpered, her face practically glowing red as she tried to look anywhere but at him. But she didn’t pull away.

Steve sighed dramatically, shaking his head as if she had just said something completely ridiculous. “Now, now, you know better than that, don’t you?” He leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead in a teasingly sweet gesture before continuing, his voice laced with condescension, but full of love.

“Toddlers don’t get to hide their diapers, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb lazily rubbing over the warm padding between her thighs. “Especially not when they’re this squishy.” Another squeeze, another tiny crinkle-squish that made Marie’s breath hitch. “That’s just part of being little. You don’t worry about things like that.”

Marie wriggled, gripping her bunny tighter. “B-But—”

“No buts, princess,” Steve interrupted smoothly, his hand still resting against her puffy diaper. “In fact…” He gave her bottom a few more pats, each one making the damp padding press snugger against her. “This makes Daddy’s job so much easier.”

Marie blinked, confused, peeking up at him shyly. “Wh-What do you mean?”

Steve smirked, his fingers trailing along the waistband of her diaper before slipping a single finger past the leg guard, pressing just enough to confirm what he already knew—she was absolutely soaked.

Marie squeaked, her whole body tensing as her legs snapped together.

Steve just chuckled. “See, little one?” He withdrew his hand and booped her nose, his voice thick with amusement. “No need for fussy diaper checks when my baby girl’s got nothing to hide.” His eyes flicked down to her exposed, swollen padding. “All Daddy has to do is look, and he knows when his little princess needs a fresh diapee.”

Marie whined, wriggling in place, the squishy warmth between her thighs making her feel even smaller under his teasing gaze.

“Besides,” Steve continued, his voice taking on a mock-serious tone as he gave her puffy bottom one last loving squeeze. “We wouldn’t want any leaks, would we?”

Marie bit her lip, shaking her head quickly. “N-No, Daddy…”

“That’s right,” Steve praised, reaching for her empty bottle and swapping it out with a fresh one. “Good girl.”

Marie reached for it instinctively, only hesitating when she realized the liquid inside wasn’t just plain water this time.

Steve caught her hesitation and smirked. “It’s a special juice mix, sweetheart,” he explained, tapping the side of the bottle. “A little apple, a little pear, and just a touch of a little something something.”

Marie’s stomach flipped. “B-But—”

“Hush,” Steve interrupted smoothly, slipping the bottle into her hands. “Just drink up like a good girl.”

[aquamarixx]

the homeowner effect

Niko Ikki never knew owning a house could be such an icebreaker—until his blind date’s flustered, accidental comment leaves him wondering if this might be his best date yet. pairing niko ikki x reader tags post manga timeskip, aged up characters, fluff, happy birthday niko! navigation

Your friend, Otoya, sets you up with someone he knows. According to him, his friend is a “nice guy”—a term that usually makes you suspicious. Otoya isn’t exactly known for being a stellar matchmaker, after all. But so far, the guy in question, Niko Ikki, is polite, attentive, and surprisingly easy to talk to.

He likes anime and manga. He has pretty good taste in music, too. He seems too good to be true, and you can’t help but test the waters a little to get him a little bit better.

“So, where do you live?” you ask, stabbing the carrot cake you’ve ordered to share.

He casually name-drops a notoriously expensive and quiet neighborhood. “It’s nice and peaceful there,” he says.

You nearly choke on your drink. “Wait, seriously? You live there?”

He nods as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Yeah.”

Curiosity gets the better of you. “So… do you share the rent with someone? Like a roommate or…?”

He blinks, looking slightly confused, as if the thought hasn’t even occurred to him. “No. I, uh… I own the place.”

Your fork clatters onto your plate, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables. You don’t care. “You own it?”

“Yeah,” he admits softly, the tips of his ears turning red. “I bought it last year.”

“You bought it last year?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

He tilts his head slightly, as though he can’t quite understand why you look so shocked. “Yes.”

“Wait, you’re 27, right?”

“Yeah, 27,” he confirms, taking a sip of his drink.

You stare at him in disbelief, the pieces of information refusing to settle in your brain. “Okay, so… you own your place in one of the priciest neighborhoods in the city. How? I mean—are you, like, a trust fund baby or something? What do you do?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “No, no trust fund. I just… work hard and save. I play sports.”

“Like professionally?” you ask, your voice laced with amazement.

“Kind of,” he says with a small shrug. “It’s for a local team.” Well, technically, the Japan National Team is a local team, Niko thinks.

Your gaze drifts over him, noticing for the first time how well-built he is. He catches you looking, and you quickly cough, averting your eyes. But your thoughts linger on the bigger revelation: he owns his place.

And you’re impressed. Stunned, really. Here you are at 25, living in a shared house with your best friend and still making payments on a car loan your parents had practically forced you to buy. And meanwhile, Niko—calm, humble, and ridiculously cute Niko—is out here playing sports for a living and owning a house in this economy.

“You own your own house,” you repeat, almost in disbelief.

“Yes,” he says again, his voice steady but his ears now bright red under your scrutiny.

Before you can stop yourself, you mutter, “Wow, that’s hot.”

Niko freezes mid-sip, his eyes snapping to yours. His cheeks turn a deep pink, and his lips part as if he’s not sure he’s heard you right. “H-Hot?”

You groan, slapping a hand over your face. “Oh my god, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

He looks down at his glass, his fingers brushing the edge nervously. But then, a soft smile tugs at his lips, and he lets out a quiet laugh. “I mean… thanks?”

Peeking at him through your fingers, you find his shy but amused expression making your heart flutter. It’s not fair. Not only is he financially stable and smart, but he also has this quiet, unassuming charm that makes you want to know more.

“So, uh,” you say awkwardly, trying to recover, “what else are you hiding? Do you, like, run your own company on the side or something?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. I’m just a regular guy who likes anime, gaming, and reading manga. And plays sports for a living.” He pauses, his gaze meeting yours, and his tone softens. “And I think this is the first time anyone’s ever called me ‘hot’ because of where I live.”

“Well,” you say with a shrug, trying to act cool despite the warmth creeping up your neck, “there’s a first time for everything.”

He laughs again, the sound warm and genuine, and you feel yourself relax. This date isn’t just going well. It’s easily the best one he's had in a long time.

amari's notes: happy birthday to one of my faves and fellow aquarius baby, niko! i am going all out celebrating his birthday. made a fanfic, made a cake and commissioned an art! there are some niko merch i managed to get and hopefully i get more!

taglist: @inu1gf

[candyandcyberware]

Primal instincts

Aaron Hotchner x reader

You lean against a tree as you watch your boyfriend stretch his limbs with sheer determination visible on his face. It’s clear he can’t wait to start the chase, and he loves the idea of being the predator that hunts you–the prey, the precious prize–in the woods. When he notices the way you’re watching him, he flashes a smug smirk at you, as if he was silently telling you there’s no way you can get away from him. Not like you want to, though. 

This little game is something you two have been planning for a while now, a special activity he heard about at an unbelievably boring gala. Who would have thought that an event with a bunch of boring old people can be the very place where he listens to a drunk heir’s speech about playing it with his boyfriend somewhere near Seattle during a business trip there. He even went into details, telling Aaron things he honestly didn’t want to hear. 

The next day he told you the story, just for the laughs, but then he thought more about it as he watched you do mundane things around the apartment and he began to drop hints here and there, during the most casual conversations in the car, or when you were watching a movie on the couch after Jack went to bed. “You would look so good from behind when you’re trying to get rid of me, though,” he said. At first, you thought he was joking, but then a few days later another comment came as he nonchalantly said, “I want to play rough with you.”

So, you agreed, and now it’s time to play the game he prepared so carefully. Jack is staying with his aunt, which means the two of you have the whole night to play together, and he chose a location that was an hour long drive away from his apartment, so he even reserved a hotel room to stay in. But now as you’re watching him, you begin to have some doubts. Maybe you’re just nervous since you’ve never done anything like this, but what if you get hurt? You can always trip in a root or something. 

“Baby, it’s gonna be fine. It will be fun, I promise,” he says as he closes the gap between you and puts his hands on your hips to pull you against himself. 

Sometimes you wonder if he can actually read minds, because somehow he always knows what’s going on inside your head. But maybe it’s just his profiler side putting in the work every now and then to help him out. Either way, it’s equally cute and annoying, but you’re not really complaining. As you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his head down for a quick kiss, you can’t help but flash a playful smile at him. 

With his hand pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, he looks at you with the kind of adoration you’ve barely seen since the first days of your relationship. “Are you ready?” The question is simple, but it still makes you think hard. After some time, though, you nod with a smile. “Good. I’ll give you a headstart.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice, you immediately start running into the woods, praying to whatever is out there that can protect you not to let you trip and fall flat on your face. The darkness swallows everything in the distance, you have no idea where you’re heading, but this game isn’t about thinking, this is strictly about your instincts. You need to run, that’s all you can and have to think about now. 

The chilly night air makes you shiver when you stop for a second to take a look around and listen to any sound that might tell you if Aaron is getting near, but all you can hear is the pounding of your heart in your ears. You’re not even sure what it is you feel right now. Is it fear? Is it excitement? Or can it be the mixture of these two? 

Whatever it is, it’s addicting, you want to be in this state of mind forever, you love the thrill this game gives you. You might be the prey now, someone who’s supposed to escape the predator, but all you want is your boyfriend finally catching up and showing you what hides behind his ever-present self-control, what primal needs lurk in the background, waiting to have you just the way he wants. 

Your breathing finally slows down, so you begin to wonder which direction to go next. You have a GPS, you can find your way back to the car, therefore you can go anywhere you want. But as you think, you suddenly hear the sound of a twig that was stepped on, and your attention turns to the task of finding out where it’s coming from. You listen, you even hold your breath to be more quiet, but there’s nothing. He probably realized you could hear that and stopped. Or maybe it was some animal. 

“Got you!” Aaron says happily as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, keeping you close to his chest. 

You turn your head a little, only to be kissed right away, and you can’t help but turn in his arms to face him properly. Instead of kissing you again, though, he takes a few steps forward in an attempt to push you back, just until you’re caged between him and a tree. His warm brown eyes are watching your every move, paying attention to every little detail he might find important later, mostly regarding the game you’ve been playing. Did you enjoy it? Are there any signs of you liking it so much you might want to do it again some other time? 

He pulls you out of your thoughts with another kiss, a much messier, hungrier kiss that showcases how badly he wants you. That sense of urgency as he slowly slips his hand under your shirt makes you moan into his mouth, a sound that’s swallowed by him right away, and soon you can feel his hands move to your back to unclip your bra with his skilled hand. Once he’s done, he grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head along with the bra, then throws them both on the ground. 

It hurts you to see those precious items on the ground, surrounded by insects and dirt, two things you would never let them near. But Aaron took the lead, he’s the one making the rules here, and it will be his credit card that pays for the dry cleaner and the new pieces you’ll buy anyway. As a token of your gratitude, you will let him join you for lingerie shopping. He’ll see you in everything and he can make the final decision of which piece he wants to regularly take off of you. 

A jolt of electricity shoots through your body when you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder near your neck, and it’s clear that it will leave a mark eventually. Your eyes close as you focus on the way his warm, wet mouth is moving over to your collarbone in a way that makes it clear you’ll be covered in hickeys and bite marks tomorrow. 

And honestly? You will wear these marks with pride.

[rosiesdisneydrama]

Borrower Stan AU Ideas

Soooo... A while back I talked about wanting to find a Borrower Crossover with Gravity Falls where one of the bros was turned into a borrower.

I had some ideas. So I'm gonna post them for folks to use, mostly with Stan falling face-first into Borrower-fication and ending up in Ford's care.

Starting with some general things.

Stan gets kidnapped/cursed while on the road and turned into a “borrower”. He is now small enough to fit in someone's hands and has mouse features. He is terrified because everything is so much bigger than him now.

He will never take his normal height for granted again.

After “moving in” with Ford, Stan gets a fancy dollhouse of some kind, or even just one of those things to make little model rooms, and turns it into his bedroom/private space. May start as a single room, then later gets the house so he can have more space that won’t risk any accidental injuries while he’s tiny.

He’s attached to it even after he gets turned back to normal. Possibly picks up dollhouse making as a hobby? They are surprisingly intricate and that turns out to be a little bit fun to get into.

Also, Shermie is the one with Stan’s car. It didn’t get wrecked or whatever. He got the call and picked up the car bc Stan was his brother. Their dad had been awful to him, but that didn’t mean they should just let it be lost. That they should brush him under the rug and pretend he was never there.

He planned to talk Ford into taking it so that he would have a car again but keeps forgetting to bring it up since it’s usually their Mom who calls them all.

That, or he has told Ford and now the whole family is quietly freaking out bc WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?? Why is all his stuff still there? Why does it look like he was living out of it??

Now for the actual starting points, bc I had 3 of them.

Stan getting to Ford V1- Is This Yours?

Illegal Pet Trade is def a thing and possibly what they were planning to do with Stan after turning him Tiny.

They kept him with a natural borrower for a few months. Borrower tried, desperately, to teach him as much as they could before the “unnatural cold” made by their captors took him away. (Deeply hoping and praying that they could teach enough for him to escape and survive.)

Magic crime ring responsible either gets busted and all the turned-borrowers are rescued and slowly returned to their families. With Stan being delivered to Ford while still in hibernation by one of the witches.

(Used magic to find the relations and scope them out for safety before actually handing over the victims. Don't want to leave them in dangerous places by just assuming the family would care. Some families, though well-meaning, turn worse when faced with supernatural stuff.)

Ford gets the box Stan is in, reeling because that's his brother in there! Small and vulnerable and he almost ended up in the hands of people who would have treated him as little more than an exotic pet for them to brag about.

(There is a horrific lurching in his stomach at the thought.)

He is also given the witch's home phone number when he declares that he’s going to find a way to fix it. Telling him “If you figure out a way to undo that magic, I will pay you in solid gold for it. Literally.”

He then sets to carefully wake Stanley to try and get as much information as possible out of his brother in hopes of reversing the magic/curse. (Without hurting Stanley either.)

Their rocky relationship does get brought up, Stan’s self-wroth issues get brought up, and a shocking amount of baggage (and then comfort) get addressed in the interim.

Stan Getting to Ford V2- Delivery for the Science Man!

Ford, while talking to someone/thing in the forest, learns about tiny people who refer to themselves as “Borrowers” who often live in the walls of normal human homes/towns. Endlessly curious about such things, he asks for more info.

He’s told that they’re (overall) just very small humans, though they share some stuff with mice and small rodents. Some are even able to hibernate over winter. The, let’s say fairy, explains that Borrowers are really hard to find by people like Ford, despite their proximity, because they’re terrified of big people like him. “They’re tiny and honestly pretty frail. It would be easy for someone like you to crush them in your hands if you weren’t careful.”

He asks if there would be one in his house and gets told “Probably not. Your house is too new and the walls are a little on the thin side. They usually live in older houses with thicker walls and floors.”

He is disappointed by that info, but then the fairy tells him that they’ll keep an eye out and see if they can help him by coaxing one into letting him talk to them.

A While Later, just long enough for Ford to have put the idea out of his mind, the fairy leaves a package at his door with a note saying something along the lines of “told you I’d come through”.

He brings the box inside, because Um? What? And opens it to find Stan inside. Deep in a mouse coma and probably not able to wake up until Ford can raise his body temp enough so it doesn’t think winter is setting in anymore.

On Stan’s side, he got made mousy a while ago (maybe a year or two? Possibly three if I wanted to really stretch it) and got sort of adopted by an Outside Family (Borrowers who live Outside) who took it upon themselves to teach him how to survive. They kinda just- looked at this clueless man and went “Oh, oh you are going to die if someone doesn’t help you soon.” And then they did that.

He stayed with them for about a year before getting separated while they were moving north. So he is without his help when he ends up in the Gravity Falls area.

Was kind of rescued by the fairy, who clocked the family resemblance and told him “Oh, cool. I know a place you can stay. New place in town and the guys is such a scatterbrain. He totally won’t notice you there. Plus it’s so much safer than running around in these woods if you’re not magic.” Then used magic to send him into a mouse coma (possibly by claiming it was safer than trying to fly him around themself while he was awake), packed him in a magic box to keep his temp down, then dropped him in front of Ford’s place.

Neither of them is ready for this to be their reintroduction to each other.

Stan getting to Ford V3- Oops Fidds Broke Up a Crime Ring

It starts with Fidd’s little Tater-tot overhearing some guys at the park talking about grabbing people for sale. Even hearing a tiny voice shrieking to be let go. He, being a good boy, races to tell his mom and his dad that there are bad people who are trying to hurt a bunch of mouse people.

Fidds is hesitant because Mouse People? That couldn’t be real. But his Tater-tot is insistent that someone is being hurt so he feels like he should at least do something to check. So he takes a couple of little robots he made and sends them off to grab evidence.

And they bring back evidence. A lot of it, actually. Which looks like stuff for some kind of illegal pet trade. Clearly whoever was doing this did not factor in robots to keep their secrets safe. He is very alarmed about it.

One of the pieces of evidence is a box that’s cool to the touch. That, according to some of the papers he now has, says that it’s keeping the “products” from being able to escape. A note about the cold sending them into hibernation.

And, inside that box, is a cage full of tiny mouse-people. One of whom bears a rather striking resemblance to his old college buddy. And a few others who look like children.

Many things can be said about Fiddleford McGucket, but standing idly by when children were in danger wasn’t one of them.

He proceeds to put the fear of GOD into the criminals before handing (slightly altered) versions of the records to the police.

Emma-May, as a mix of hobby and side income, likes making fancy dollhouses for people. Gets damn good commissions for them. A love she learned from her grandfather who left all of his dollhouse-making things to her after he passed away. She sets up the Borrowers in the VERY FANCY house that was passed down to her.

Some of them reveal/explain that they’re not supposed to be mouse-people, Borrowers is the term, but used to be homeless/drifters who were snatched up at some point. (Stan, reluctantly, admits to being one of those, and hoo boy does that give Fidds some Concerns.) Some of them say they can’t even remember how they were snatched, just waking up in a cage one day and suddenly being small enough to fit in someone’s hands.

They get stuck for a bit trying to figure out a way to turn the ones who weren’t born Borrowers back to normal, but help comes when Fidds remembers that Ford studied the strange and unusual and tiny people certainly fit that, right?

.

.

And that's all I have. If anyone wants these ideas, go ahead and take them!! I would try my hand but they are already full with other GF aus.

[jgracie]

sports car ♡ f1!percy jackson x fem!reader

in which you get tired of percy’s neglect, so you go to the one person you know would be able to help

warnings jealousy (on percy’s behalf), swearing, argument (good ending tho i promise) | masterlist

'Percy has been ignoring me for far too long,' was a thought you never thought you'd have.

Anyone who knew Percy knew he was obsessed with you and therefore couldn't go more than a couple minutes without needing to be around you. However, the New York City race weekend seemed to prove otherwise.

NYC was a new addition to the F1 calendar, and ever since it was announced, you knew how important it'd be for Percy. Sure, all the other US races counted as home races for him before, but New York was his real home, not Las Vegas or Texas. He finally had a proper home race and he had to be the first to win it.

If it was just the importance New York held for Percy, the two of you would've been fine. In fact, you would've been more than fine - during every significant race weekend for Percy, he always happened to be more doting than usual, desperately needing to be reassured that everything would be fine by the one person he trusts to tell nothing but the truth no matter what. That's why you were confused. Had you done something to upset him and drive him away? Is that why he'd rather go to his SF-25 for comfort instead of you?

It was much more than that. Percy wasn't the only New Yorker on the grid this year, the other being his teammate, Luke Castellan. Luke was the first F1 driver you'd been introduced to and the first to find out about your and Percy's relationship back when it still consisted of whispered confessions and late-night kisses. He was nice enough and very funny and you quickly became good friends. Not close friends, but good friends. Although Percy was happy you managed to find a place for yourself in his world at first, he soon began to dislike your friendship with Luke.

This wasn’t your fault, of course, but Luke’s.

What you didn’t know was that there had been tension festering between the two Ferrari drivers ever since Percy joined the team. Luke was Ferrari’s golden boy, having been taken by them as soon as he left F2 thanks to the terrific season he’d had there, and for a good while, he dominated. That was until Percy arrived. In his first year at Ferrari, Percy managed to beat Luke by several points, placing third overall compared to Luke’s fifth. The golden boy had begun to rust, and so the competition between the two grew.

After Percy took everything from Luke, he wanted him to lose everything too, and that included Percy’s most prized possession: you.

“Hey Luke, can I talk to you please?” You asked, walking into his garage. Quali had finished and so everyone was busy packing up and preparing for the big day tomorrow. Well, except Luke, who was on his phone.

Looking up at you, the driver smiled and shook his head, standing up to pull out an empty seat for you, “of course, what’s up?” He said as he took you in.

You were easily the most beautiful person at the paddock today, with your little red top and the Yankees cap Percy had bought you the first time he took you to watch a baseball game. To Luke, you would’ve looked even more beautiful with your arm wrapped around his.

"Well, I feel like Percy's been... off," was how your rant began. As you explained the situation, Luke couldn't help but feel as though Aphrodite was on his side. He was sad for you, of course, but this was the perfect moment for him to take the one thing Percy loved most. If he won the race tomorrow, surely you'd be his.

Unfortunately, Aphrodite was not on Luke's side. As soon as he put his hand on top of yours in a comforting gesture (that weirded you out a little), Percy appeared, looking for you. Finding you with Luke, who so clearly had his 'Prince Charming' act on, Percy couldn't help but see red. He was already dealing with so much crap from Luke, but him going after you was too far.

Swiftly, Percy strode over and grabbed you by the arm, nearly hauling you off your chair in the process, "let's go babe, I think you left your bag in my garage," he mumbled, kissing the top of your head. You looked up at your boyfriend, expecting his usually loving gaze to finally be cast upon you. Instead, you found him glaring at Luke. And... Luke seemed to be glaring back? You were confused.

"Oh, okay. Thanks for telling me," you said, standing up. Instantly, Luke was up too.

"Hey man, we weren't done yet." He said to Percy, who now had his arm wrapped around your waist. Although you weren't sure what was going on and were now a little mad at him, you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. You really missed his touch.

"I'm sure it can wait," was all Percy said before manoeuvring you away, not even giving you the chance to say goodbye.

The walk to his garage was silent, but as soon as you got there, Percy started ranting at you as he sloppily gathered both your things. You watched for a second before realising you were done with his bullshit. This was going to end whether he liked it or not.

"Percy," you said, calmly approaching him. Although you were mad, you didn't want things to escalate. You just wanted your Percy back. Said Percy ignored you. You tried again, and he ignored you again.

Oh well, third time's the charm.

Putting your hand on his shoulder, you said, "Percy, can you please listen to me?" Almost instantly, he turned around and had you pinned on his car, tightly gripping your shoulders.

"What? What do you want from me? Seems like everybody wants something from me these days, so let's add you to the list as well! Or would you prefer to go ask Luke instead?"

Percy knew he made a mistake as soon as his eyes landed on yours, a watery barrier keeping them from properly meeting his. He sighed and let go of you, running his hands through his hair.

Your voice now shaky, you said, "I just wanted to see if you're okay. You've been ignoring me ever since we landed in JFK, and it hurts, Percy. I want to be here for you, but you're not letting me. I went to Luke to ask if you were okay, since you refused to tell me, but now I see what the problem is. You don't trust me, do you? You don't trust me to know what's wrong, you don't trust me to be around your own teammate, you don't trust me at all, Percy. Relationships need trust. If you don't trust me, I don't see the point in us staying together at all."

Percy's brows furrowed. He hadn't expected you to come to that of all conclusions. Just as you were about to take your things and leave, he had you pinned to the car yet again.

"I trust you. I don't trust him," he began. Your lips parted in shock. How couldn't Percy trust Luke? Luke had been his idol for as long as you could remember. He was more excited to be teammates with the Luke Castellan than he was to drive for Ferrari back when the deal was first signed.

"God, I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to hurt you. There's been so much pressure on my back to do well in this race not just because my home race, but because its his, too. Luke has been out to get me since this season started, I just know it. If he wins this, he'll have enough points to bump me down to second place in the championship, and then God knows what'll happen to my seat. I've been working so hard to make sure everything's perfect for this one, and seeing you with him of all people drove me crazy. He's been trying to take everything from me, he can't take you too."

Tears were now rolling down your cheeks, and you cupped Percy's face, pulling him to share a heartfelt kiss.

"No one," you said as you pulled away, "could ever take me from you, Percy. I don't ever want you thinking that again, promise?" You stuck your pinkie out for Percy to link his to, which he did.

Smiling, he whispered, "I promise. Now let's go home, I have a lot of girlfriend neglect I'd like to make up for." At this, you laughed, glad to have your Percy back again. Putting your jacket on, you rubbed your back where it had been on the car. Those things had way too many hard parts.

"You have got to stop slamming me on that car of yours though, Perce, my back can't handle it," you mumbled as you zipped the jacket up. New York winters were no joke.

"Oh yeah?" He said, smirking. Your noses nearly touching, Percy's eyes glimpsed the necklace you were wearing - the one with his initials on it. "Don't you worry, I have better ideas for what we can do in that car of mine."

[katuschka]

Stargazers

Jake Kiszka x f!reader 1.560 words

/#gvfvalentines2025 – watching the stars/

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): disappointment, Valentine's dinner gone wrong, tension, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, tears, descriptions of vast spaces, comfort

“Please, just stop it already. I’m here. We’re here. It’s a date. Could you at least stop making those faces?” Jake downed his glass of wine and huffed through his nose. Now it was him making faces.

I tried, but I couldn’t help it. No matter how much I tried to rationalize it and just enjoy myself, I felt disappointed. And – seeing his annoyed face and seeming lack of understanding – almost miserable. He took me to a fancy restaurant – something which I never insisted on. What I really wanted was to spend the day with him. One whole day. Just once! I made the plans, I bought the tickets! All he had to do was to show up. And he did not. 

And thus we ended up eyeing each other sourly over a candlelit dinner. The food was delicious, but we lost our appetite. 

“You know, I even took a day off,” I mumbled reproachfully, while trying to murder the caramelized pear with my fork. 

Jake leaned back on his chair and started tapping his fingers on the table. Clearly, I was making him uneasy. Well, good…

“I already apologized. It was an emergency meeting.” 

“Jake, you’re a rock musician, not a member of a war committee. And the planetarium was much more important than this.” I should have gone alone. If he can prioritize his own obsessions and hobbies, so should I. I had been making compromises all the time. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know I screwed up. I tried to leave, but they wouldn’t let me. And you know I’m not really into this kind of stuff.” 

By ‘this kind of stuff’ he meant conventional romantic gestures, no doubt. The problem is that I never demanded it in the first place. 

My eyes fell on the bouquet of blood red roses that lay on the table on my right. They were pretty, but I could do without them. What’s the point, anyway? What is it supposed to symbolize… to kill a flower? I already mourned how they would inevitably fade under my watch. Jake knew this about me, and therefore I knew it was a last minute, panicked purchase. “But that’s the point Jake. Me neither. I don’t need expensive wine, and I don’t need you to dress up like that… you look fantastic, by the way.” It made him smirk, but he refused to look at me, and my heart sank. I definitely didn’t want to make him feel like nothing was good enough for me. I just wanted him to understand. “All I wanted was to watch the stars with you,” I added mournfully. 

The sentimental confession contained in that last sentence was like opening the door to all the feelings I had been trying to suppress all day or maybe even longer. I felt suddenly overwhelmed. “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.” I left the table perhaps too quickly, but I didn’t want him to see me like that, on the verge of tears. I still wasn’t completely sure they were justified, because Jake DID try to make it right. He DID apologize, and made amends. I just still felt that way. 

When I came back, composed enough to at least try to save the rest of the evening, I found our table already cleared and him standing next to it. I internally braced myself for another round of this passive-aggressive emotional fight, but he just smiled and offered me his hand. 

“Are we leaving? What is this?”

“It’s a surprise. Just please, come with me.” He simply led me to his car, opened the door for me and soon we were on our way to god knows where. I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me, just mumbled something about Josh ‘mentioning it once and then he remembered’… It didn't make much sense. 

We drove for nearly an hour, leaving the city far behind, spending the whole time pretty much in silence. It was a pleasant kind of quiet, though. Jake was humming something that sounded a bit like Bowie and I just got lost in my thoughts. It was a clear, cloudless night and the muffled sound of the engine almost lulled me to sleep. I barely noticed that we exited the highway…

Jake suddenly stopped in the middle of some field road pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Confused, I watched him turn off the lights, unfasten his seatbelt and get out of the car. He obviously expected me to do the same, because when I didn’t move, he walked around the vehicle and once again opened the door for me. 

“Jake…? You know, if you wanted to get rid of me, you could have just dumped me,” I tried to joke, but I think I must have looked and sounded alarmed, because he took and kissed my hand with a wicked smirk before he motioned to me to follow him outside the car. 

“Nothing like that baby, I’m simply fulfilling your wish.”

I understood what he meant the moment I straightened and looked around… or looked up, to be more precise, since there was nothing around to look at anyway. The sight took my breath away. We were far away from the city lights, so light pollution was significantly lower here. There were almost no trees around. Above us only sky, as the wise man once sang. 

Have you ever really looked at the night sky? I mean REALLY looked at it, as in trying to understand what you’re actually seeing… I’m pretty much a city girl, so my new and growing fascination with the Universe was based mostly on books and documentaries so far. I had seen the stars before, of course, but that was mostly just a few shiny dots on black nothing. The sea of wonders that was now extending above me took my breath away completely. 

All those feelings I had had while learning about planets and supernovas, quasars and different galaxies, it was all multiplied now as I watched the indescribable vastness of space with mixed feelings of awe and happiness and dread…

“Jake…,” I whispered, “this is so beautiful.” My eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness around us, so when I looked at him, I could make out the outline of his profile, illuminated only by the tiny lights above. 

“I knew you’d like it… oh! Wait a minute.” He let go of my hand and disappeared behind the car, only to return a moment later with binoculars and a blanket that he kept folded up under his right arm. 

“It’s not much, but better than nothing. I tried it once…,” he tried to explain as he handed me the binoculars. “See the Pleiades there? We can see just seven of them with the naked eye, but try this.”

I did… and gasped. It felt almost like discovering a brand new reality. I must have spent a few whole minutes staring just at that one “tiny” spot. 

We were not dressed for an outdoor trip like that and I felt my heels sinking into the half frozen, muddy road. I started shivering too. Jake unbuttoned his coat and wrapped us both in it before he spread out the blanket with one swish of his arm and threw it over us. 

I leaned against him and rested my tilted head on his shoulder. It gave Jake an easy access to my exposed neck and he planted a soft kiss on my jugular, making me shiver again. 

“It’s funny how many cute names those coincidental star clusters have… Seven Sisters. They’re so far away from one another and yet they truly look so close from here. Some people call them ‘Chickens’, did you know that?”

“No…” was all I managed to whisper back. 

“Yeah, I think it’s all about making it less frightening and more familiar. When you name something ‘a flock of chicks’, you can forget that in reality, it’s a huge mass of deadly gasses in an inexplicably vast space… It somehow puts it on the same level with our daily reality, making it less irrelevant and mundane.”

It was exactly how I felt, and he was putting it to words. We were so tiny, so insignificant, and yet he meant EVERYTHING to me, simply because he was Jake. My Jake. 

“I think it’s the same with love,” he continued. “Love and hate are complex, abstract ideas, hard to understand sometimes, and often scary. Yet the names we gave them, respectively, make the difference. Pronouncing ‘love’ feels like getting ready for a kiss. But hate? You huff the word through your nose with disgust. We embraced love. We write poems and songs about it, all of it only to disguise the fact that it's a frightening concept...”

“Do I frighten you, Jake?” I asked tentatively.

He kissed my hair and then pressed his lips on my earlobe. “No, not you. You’re real. I can feel your heartbeat. You have a face. And a name. Your mind is a home, and your soul the hearth.”

I didn’t even realize I started crying, not until I could taste the salty tear on my upper lip. Jake held me tight, with his arms wrapped firmly around my shivering body. I was no longer trembling because of the cold. “I love you, too.”

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep   @takenbythemadness   @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @josh-iamyour-mama @lyndz2names @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @cheersdannyx2 @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @clownstarr @gretasfallingsky @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @psychedelectable @allof--mylove @sacredsparrow @scarabsinthestardust @ironlotus90 @seenoversundown

[lxvesicklili]

— ✦ Quiet jealousy ✦ —

✦ Pairing: Mikael x Audrey (MC) ✦ Book: Astrea's Broken Heart ✦ Rating: T ✦ Warning: Slight mention of possessive behaviour ✦ Tagging: @rc-catalog ✦ Special tags: @bubblexly @mikaelsrose @liykaii @adilqalbi <3 ✦ Note: A Mikael fic! I hope everyone enjoys it. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated :)

Mikael followed her with his gaze, wine glass in hand, posture relaxed…but that was not quite true. His brows were slightly furrowed, mouth set in a straight line, and if you looked closely—

David took a sip of his drink, masking a smile. He swirled the liquid, pointing it first at Mikael, then at their evaluator. Sure, her smile is dazzling. He chuckled, eyes twinkling.

“Oh, you are so jealous.”

The archangel turned his head to face him, swift and sharp. An unamused sigh escaped him, his posture stiff. “David, don’t.”

Raphael looked at his brother with quiet curiosity but said nothing. Of course, the man’s so-called ‘hidden’ affections for Audrey weren’t well-hidden at all. Everyone could see the way his stern eyes softened every time she looked at him, or spoke during their meetings. Her laughter—scratch that, even the woman’s smile made him tongue-tied.

The melancholic man also tried to mask his suddenly bright expression. He noticed Mikael holding back a sigh as he turned his gaze away from her, clenching the glass in his hand a little too tightly than required.

David laughed as he nudged Cassiel. “Here he’s frowning and on the verge of tears, but as soon as our dear Audrey comes back, he’s going to be back to his normal self.”

The boss didn’t hear him, looking absorbed in his thoughts. Cassiel rolled his eyes, looking uncomfortable in such a place. The party venues had never been his thing. The stoic man raised an eyebrow at the lawyer.

“Don’t you have better things to say, David?” Cassiel murmured, voice low.

David shrugged, downing his glass of wine. “I mean, I can tell in detail how the old woman tried to run and beat up her husband with a designer bag during today’s case.” 

Cassiel grimaced. “Keep your mouth shut, David.”

But Mikael’s words interrupted their banter, they turned to look at the approaching figure.

“You are back.” Mikael said, nodding his head. “Good. We should leave.”

David nodded his head, whisper of the earlier smile still present. “Our boss missed you.” Mikael simply raised an eyebrow, daring him to go further, and Audrey looked at the man in question, a gentle look appearing on her face upon hearing David’s words.

Raphael shook his head, seeming tired. “Let’s just leave.” The evaluator agreed with him, and the small group began to walk outside when Audrey looked at the appraiser.

“You aren’t coming with us, right?” She asked, remembering Raphael mentioning that he had to go somewhere after attending the event. He nodded his head, a tired yet warm smile on his face.

“Yes.” Raphael replied, “Go ahead. I will be home later.”

Home. Audrey’s lips twitched a little. It feels right, now. Home. The guys, Felonia, and me. Especially…her gaze travelled towards their boss, Mikael. Home feels complete with him in it.

She quickly averted her gaze, not wanting him to catch her staring at him. A smirk, it’s not like he doesn’t know how much I look at him, though.

—

The sky had darkened considerably. Night brought stars with it, and Audrey looked up at them from the car’s window. She was lost in her thoughts. It was David’s sudden question that had her looking ahead.

“So, who was that? A friend from college?” The woman could almost hear the amused smile in her friend’s voice.

“Yeah, you could say that.” A quick glance at the man she loved. “One of the only decent guys there.”

David chuckled, catching her eye in the rear-view mirror. “With the way he was making heart eyes at you…”

Cassiel sighed from the passenger seat, already knowing what the lawyer was up to. He almost let out a scoff again. Getting a rise out of their boss—

“David, just drive. Be quiet.” The archangel’s voice was more stern than usual.

—Is not easy? Cassiel’s eyes widened. Well…okay.

—

“Mikael,” Audrey said as she entered his office behind him. It was late. They should go sleep—well, she should go to bed because it’s not as if the immortals require rest as much as she does. “Is everything okay?”

He paused in the middle of loosening his tie, the archangel’s back turned to her. The evaluator heard him take a small breath before he took off the suffocating material, and turned around to face her. Audrey’s breath hitched.

The moon’s light enveloped him. It kissed the top of his hair, the loose strands placed neatly on his shoulders, the sharp contours of his face, and—Mikael’s voice brought her out of her thoughts that were pulling the woman deeper and deeper. Audrey hoped he didn’t catch the sight of her cheeks warming.

“Why wouldn’t I be alright, Audrey?” There was a sense of finality in his tone, as if telling her to not look too deeply into it. Everything was fine. He wasn’t…irritated. But she didn’t like the hint of steel in his beautiful eyes.

Especially not when he looked at her like that.

Her brows pinched together a little. She crossed her arms over her chest, and regarded him, “You are…different tonight.” With a sigh, “Did I do or say something?”

He didn’t answer, continuing to look at her. 

The black-haired woman’s earlier expression slowly morphed into a surprised one, “I know you aren’t the type to really get jealous, so did I accidentally say something wrong...?”

Despite his annoyance—but he shouldn’t be annoyed. He wasn’t a young mortal—his lips quirked up in a gesture of fondness. Something he did often in the company of the woman he…well, it was just her. Her presence made him feel things of varying degrees.

“It wasn’t a pleasant sight to see his arm wrapped around your waist.” Mikael admitted, taking a step closer towards her, and relishing in the sight of her adorable flustered expression.

“Oh…” She said, not knowing what else to respond with. “Well…”

“I apologize for my straightforwardness,” the man softly spoke, gaze trained on her beautiful face as he caressed her cheek. He didn’t sound apologetic at all. “Seeing you smile at another man so warmly was…”

“Not a pleasant sight?” She smirked.

He chuckled. “I see. Your sense of humour is back.” Mikael’s eyes softened, “I have never felt like this before. At times, it's troubling...”

Audrey waited for him to continue, her heart hammering against her ribcage, wanting to be set free. “...Feeling so possessive over someone.”

The urge to protect her and make her feel loved. To hold her.

“I do wonder if you ate something wrong at the event…” she murmured, cheeks flushing. “But it’s not like I have feelings for him, you know.”

“I’m aware.”

Audrey stepped closer to him, slipping her arms around his waist. Mikael caressed her back, not breaking eye contact with her. Steely grey eyes softened even further upon connecting with warm brown ones.

“Then why?”

This time, his reply was swift. He whispered, “You are a master at making me lose my composure.” Mikael paused near her lips, asking for permission, she nodded.

Yes, she’s certainly good at it…

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Chapter 26/ Ricky's Vlog Footage

chapter warnings: none? also teasers for the ending at the end of the chapter tehe :)

When I came up with the idea for this chapter I thought it would be a fun filler chapter leading up to the final part! I could keep adding to this chapter but since I didn't post last week enough is enough so here it is! Happy monday!! :)

 ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“It’s 3am… In the am,” Ricky yawned, squinting at the light as he turned on his bedside lamp, “And we leave today for the tour, in about 7 hours.”

He picks his phone up, showing the time, and a message from Vin. 

“I texted Vin just now to make sure he was up and ready, I’ve got to pick him and Ryan up before leaving for the airport.” He yawned again, switching the lights on as he walked through his house, “But before I do anything…” He reached into the cupboard and showed the camera his coffee mug, one he had received from a fan which had a picture of him and Vin on it. “Coffee.”

[Cut to the car on the way to the airport]

“How do I know if it’s on?” Vinny asked, screwing his face up at the camera, which was too close to his face, showing a close up of his mouth.

“It’s already on.” Ryan laughed, and Vinny’s eyes widened. 

“Oh it is?” He chuckled, “Hey guys- Hey youtube! What is up! I’m Ricky Olson and-”

“This won’t make it into the vlog,” Rick laughed from the driver's seat, “None of this will.”

“But this is entertaining! Give the people what they want!” Vin smiled, “Rick just drove through a red light-”

“There’s nobody about! It’s 4am! I-”

[Cut to the airport]

Vinny stood staring straight into the camera, the sound of screaming crying children in the background. You could tell by his eyes that he was trying to hold it together.

“I have an announcement,” he said after a long sigh, “So… I’m actually quitting the band.”

The sound of crying children got louder as Vinny shook his head, he looked like he was either about to start laughing or crying, perhaps even both?

“I’m done!” 

[Cut to the tour bus]

“So,” Rick says as he places the camera on the table, on a makeshift tripod, made from books and an upside down cup , “We’ve landed, we got to our hotel and then Chris said the guys from Bad Omens forgot to change the dates they needed their bus for, so we’re off to pick them up!” 

The camera turns to Justin, who slowly turns to look at Ricky. 

“What do you want?” He groaned. 

“Do you have anything to say?”

“Yeah. Fuck you.”

[It cuts to shots of the guys, and Bad Omens as they get on the bus. Folio and Ruffilo both gave the camera a wave, but the others didn’t seem to acknowledge it, with some music playing over the top.]

[Cut to Vinny on the bus]

Vinny was talking to the camera, but seemed a little distracted. Unbeknownst to everyone else, his eyes were on you as you stepped on to the bus. 

“Guys I have solved our photographer dilemma!” Chris proudly announced as he stepped back onto the bus, “Y/n’s filling in for the first three days!”

“Hi!” You said with a smile, but Vinny quickly grabbed the camera from Rick, turning it back to him.

“Do you have her consent to record her?” He asked, a mock-serious expression on his face, “Didn’t think so… You creep!” He couldn’t help the small smirk tugging on the corner of his lips. 

“...Aren’t you, Vin.” Justin shouted out, but Vinny didn't quite catch the beginning of his sentence. 

“What did he say?” He asked Rick, who shrugged in reply.

Vinny put his middle finger up to Justin, holding back a laugh. 

[Cut to the hotel room]

“So,” Ricky says, turning the camera around, “Here’s our- I mean my room for the first couple nights, we’ve got our own rooms this time around so that’s sick.”

Rick gives a room tour, showing the bathroom, the bed, the window and the tv which didn’t seem to work. 

“It’s gonna be weird going to sleep with nobody else snoring or coughing in the room.” He smiled, "It won't be this way on the bus!"

[Cut to the next day]

Ryan, Rick and Vinny are walking down the street. 

“So, update,” Ricky began, “Technically tomorrow is the first day of tour, since we’ve got the day off today. So we’ve decided to go and explore the city, get some lunch, maybe visit the museum here... Ryan, do you have anything to say?”

“Yeah, Rick’s boring, there’s a party tonight and he’s not coming.” Ryan laughed. 

“C’mon,” Vin groaned, “Even I’m gonna be there!” 

“I’ve got shit to do.” Ricky chuckled.

“Like what?”

“...Editing the vlog?”

[Cut to the next morning]

“Today’s the day.” Rick says as he stirs his coffee, “It’s the first day of tour, we’ve also got an interview to go to this morning. I need to go and check on Vin after last night, Ryan said he left early but Vin stayed behind… So he might be feeling a little rough this morning.” He chuckled. 

[Cut to Rick walking down the hall]

“Okay, Vin hasn’t seen my texts so I’m assuming he’s still asleep!” Rick says before he knocks on Vin’s door. 

“Vin! Wake up everyone’s waiting for you!” He continues knocking. 

Rick sighs and shakes his head, there was no answer.

“This is why I told you it was a bad idea to go out la-” Vin opened the door, revealing himself half dressed and you still lying in his bed, wearing his shirt. “Finally, I- What’s y/n doing in your room? What the hell Vin! This better not be what it looks like-” 

“No! She stayed here because-”

[Cut to backstage before the show]

“Wanna tell us what you’re up to?” Rick asks Folio, who was smirking as he collected two paper cups. 

“I’m doing an experiment. Noah and Vin both claim they can tell the difference between coke and pepsi,” he looks around for the two cans he had bought, “So in one cup… There’s pepsi, and in the other, there's gonna be coke.”

“How are you going to tell the difference?” Matt asked, “How would you know if they’re right or not if you forget which cups which?”

Folio thought for a moment before calling out to Angela. 

“Can I borrow something to mark a cup?” 

“Sure,” she chuckled, handing him an eyeliner pen, “Just be careful with it, it's expensive.” 

“Thanks!” 

Folio roughly marked the underneath of one of the cups, and smiled at the camera, putting a thumb up.

[Cut to the couches] 

“So,” Folio laughed handing Noah the cups, “One of these has pepsi and the other one has coke-“

“You want me to say which ones in which?” Noah raised an eyebrow, “Easy, I’ve been training for this my whole life!”

“You need to smell them first!” Vinny shouted over, and Noah nodded, smelling each drink. 

“This one smells like pepsi for sure,” he said, “Is it?” 

“Try them!” Matt encouraged. 

Noah hesitated for a second before trying a sip of each. 

“Oh no, that one’s coke… This one’s pepsi.” 

Folio took the cups back, checking the bottom. 

“He’s right!” *insert sound effects*

[Cut to Vinny] 

“I can tell just by smelling them,” he bragged, “And my nose tells me that…” 

He brings both cups up to smell, pulling an unsure face, he has his answer. 

“This one’s pepsi. And I know I’m fucking right!”

“Try them.” Folio chuckled, and Vin nodded, taking a sip of each. 

“Pepsi.” He held one of the cups out, “Just like my nose told me.”

Folio takes the cup and checks the bottom. 

“Wrong! That’s coke!” *Insert sound effect* 

[Cut to Chris] 

“So… I have to guess which one’s pepsi?” He asks, a smile on his face as he takes both cups from Matt. 

“That’s right, so far Noah’s got it right and Vin got it wrong.”

Chris smelled both cups before trying each, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“That’s hard,” he chuckled, “How do you know which is in which?”

“I’ve marked the bottom,” Folio said, “But don’t look!”

“I won’t!” Chris laughed before trying each, “I’ll say… This one’s pepsi?”

Folio bent down to check the bottom of the cup Chris held out. 

“It is!” *insert sound effect* 

[Cut to you] 

“This is stupid,” you laugh as Folio hands you the cups, “And the others have all drank out of these?” 

“Hey, that's nothing, Ryan drank Ricky’s piss before.” Vin laughed, and your face screwed up in horror as you looked up at Ricky with fear in your eyes. 

"He did what?!"

“I told you that was an accident!" Ryan shouted from across the room.

"Fuck this isn’t staying in the video,” Rick laughed, “Ryan bought apple juice and left it in the van, back when we toured in a van, it just so happened I peed in a bottle and it was the same colour-“

“Okay!” You shook your head, “I’ve heard enough, what do you want me to do, Nick?”

“Tell me which one’s pepsi and which one's coke!”

You tried each drink, thinking for a moment before trying another sip of each. 

��This one is definitely coke,” you held one cup out, “so this one’s pepsi.” 

Folio took the cups back and checked for the mark. 

“You’re right!” *Insert sound effects*

“What the fuck,” Vin groaned, “Let me try them again.”

[Cut to after the show]

“We just got done playing,” Ricky said to the camera, “And clearly it’s been a long couple of days for somebody on their first tour.” 

As he pans the camera around, he shows you fast asleep with your head on resting Vin’s shoulder. 

“I think somebody’s got a crush!” Justin whispers to the camera.

“Okay I can't keep that in!”  Rick laughs.

[Cut to Vinny randomly dancing to Maroon 5]

[Cut to Justin doing his makeup]

"So, for everyone who's been asking, I'm going to give you all the long awaited stage makeup tutorial... So what you want to do first is-"

[Cut to backstage, after a show]

“Update!” Vinny grinned, “We literally just got off stage, I went nuts out there, we all went nuts out there... I think I need a shower… Hey y/n, do you think I need a shower?” He was suddenly invading your personal space, his arms wrapping around you in a scarily sweaty hug, and what was left of his body paint was rubbing off on you. 

“Vincenzo I swear if you don’t let go of me right now!” You threatened, pushing him away. 

“Y/n, give me an update!” Rick smiled from behind the camera. 

“Update- Is this my first real update?” You ask as Vin begins to make an escape, “Vin stinks, and I’m gonna beat his ass for covering me in sweaty paint!” 

“You would never!” He shouts from the hallway, and you raise your eyebrows before chasing after him.

“They’re so into each other... It makes me sick.” Ryan laughed, as Ricky panned the camera to him.

[Cut to the tour bus, the next morning]

“Chris, give me an update!” 

Chris groans, before smiling for the camera.

“Update, it’s the… Fifth show of the tour tonight, and I think I’m getting sick. I should be saving my voice, Rick, but look what you’re making me do!” He said in a mock-serious tone. 

[Cut to Rick backstage, in full makeup and stage fit]

"Update... I keep forgetting to make actual updates so uh... We're about to play at the biggest festival of our career, loads of people are out there waiting for us, we're on in about 15 minutes..." The camera turns to Vinny, "How do you feel?"

"Rick..." He presses his lips together, looking away for a moment, "I think I'm going to shit myself."

[Cut to Vinny after playing at the festival]

“Update,” Vinny pointed at the camera, clearly on an adrenaline rush after playing, “We just got done playing to like… three hundred million people, it was fucking awesome!” He claps, thinking of something else to say, “Y/n took some hot pictures of me, Rick fell off the stage-”

“I didn’t fall off the stage,” Ricky interrupted, turning the camera to his face, “I misjudged where the platform was-”

“Rick fell off the stage.” Vinny repeated, “And now we’re about to go play some Mario kart.”

“Y/n do you have anything to add?” Rick pointed the camera at you. 

“Motionless in White rock,” you said proudly, “It was great to…” You trailed off as your phone vibrated, forgetting all about the camera pointed at you, “...Fuck, I think I’m getting a headache, I think I need to lay down, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You say, quickly turning around and walking off. 

Ricky and Vinny look at each other as you walk away. 

“That was weird.” Rick points out, putting the camera down.

[Cut to you and Vin in the dark, in the hallway of a hotel]

“Welcome back,” Vinny says in a weird voice, “To the third installment of this place is haunted.. Haunted….. Haunted……”

“We’ve been staying at this hotel for two nights, and we’ve been noticing… some strange things!” You say. 

“So, as an expert in all things paranormal, I am here to investigate!” 

“The first mystery… A banging sound coming from Folio’s room in the middle of the night…” You try to hold back your laugh as you approach his door, “I’ve been staying in the room next to him, and I think he may be being visited in the night by spirits-”

“I fear it may be the very same vengeful incubus that was following me around last tour… Y/n has the spare key to his room, so let’s go and check on him!” 

You slowly push the hotel door open, and wave for Vin and Rick to follow you in. 

“It appears Nick is asleep… And there is no sign of any spirits, or incubuses.. But there is a- Oh shit we better get out there’s a girl in his bed!” 

All three of you rushed out of the room trying your best not to laugh before shutting the door back up.

[Cut to Vinny getting his makeup done]

“The concept of a dad dick isn’t hard to understand…” Vin laughed, “When you become a dad you get a dad dick!” 

“So Justin has a dad dick?” Folio chuckles. 

“Yeah! He’s the only one of us with a dad dick… I think.” Vinny’s eyes widen, full of fear as he stares into the camera, “I don’t think I have any kids?”

[Cut to Vinny asleep on the couch in the green room, whilst you stand behind him, braiding his hair]

The camera slowly zooms in on you as you try holding back your laughter as Vin snores.

"When he wakes up we're telling him he's been visited by the braid fairy," you whispered, before looking back down and running your fingers through his hair, "He's got softer hair than me? I'm stealing his conditioner."

[Cut to Rick on the bus]

"I can't believe what I've just seen... I've caught y/n in the act... With evidence..."

As the camera turns around, it shows you stuffing as many snacks as you can into your bag before getting on to the bus.

"Every time we ask her if she's got any snacks she says no!" Vinny laughed, also watching you from the bus window. "When she gets on I'm gonna ask if she has any and see what she says." he plotted, and the Rick nodded.

"Hey guys." You smile, walking onto the bus, "What time do we start sound check?"

"Uh, in a couple hours." Rick said from behind the camera.

"Y/n did you get any snacks in the store?"

"Yes, but you still owe me for the packs of starburst you stole from me!"

[Cut to Justin and you]

“Justin, give me an update!” 

“Update!” Justin sighed, “I’m introducing y/n to Twit!” 

“And for the people who don’t know… Who is Twit?”

“He’s in the video you posted! If you don’t know you better get to know!” 

The camera zooms in on Justin’s phone, where Vinny is being Twit.

“What’s up man! I’m Twit and I’m gonna eat some God- I mean gosh darn cookies!”

“Vin, how old were you here?!” You laugh. 

“25.” Vinny groans, “Please stop! Turn it off!” 

[Cut to Chris playing a guitar during souncheck]

"I didn't know he played?" Your eyebrows raised as you listened to Chris play a song that sounded a lot like Another Life

"Chris has always played," Rick chuckled from behind the camera, "I guess you learn something new everyday."

[Cut to you]

"Y/n, give me an update."

"Update... I'm sat here in the green room editing some pictures I took from the shows last week. The guys have gone out to get lunch, I've asked Noah to get me a bagel so we'll see how well he knows me because I haven't told him which one I want..."

"Does he know your usual order?"

"He should!" You chuckle, "I've been getting the same thing for three months."

[Cut to Rick backstage before a show]

"So, update..." He set the camera up, stepping back slightly, almost ending up in Justin's lap, "One of our shows got cancelled because it was an outdoors venue and the weathers been pretty shit so we're unable to play, so Vin suggested going live on twitch and hanging out there for a bit with all the guys. I know it won't make up for a cancelled show but it's something."

"They can't see you, Vin." Justin laughed, and Rick looked over at Vinny.

"Give the people what they want!" Vin called out.

"Vin's got his thumbs up," he chuckled, turning the camera around, "There he is..."

"What's up youtube!"

[Cut to you smiling at your phone]

"What are you smiling at...?" Rick teased, zooming in on you.

"I'm looking at pictures of my bed, I can't wait to be home." You hold your phone out to Rick, showing him.

[Cut to Ricky in the bus]

"Update! It's the final month of tour and I don't feel like I've given any real updates on here. We've had the best time this tour, it's been great seeing familiar faces and some new ones too... Uh... Yeah. Do you have anything to add?"

Rick turned the camera, pointing at Vinny who was sat facing you on the couch as you carefully re-dyed his red streaks.

"I don't feel like I've slept in 4 years."

"Vin stop moving!" You groaned, trying to section his hair to clip back.

"Shit, sorry."

[Cut to Ryan backstage]

"I'm not doing this shit," he laughed, until Ricky snatched his phone from his hand, "Fine." Ryan sighed, sitting up straight, "Update, we've got a few more shows to play and then I can get back home to my dog... Vin's been unusually quiet the last couple days, it's been pretty nice."

You walk into the room, setting your bags down on the table. As if on cue, Vin gets up and leaves without saying a word to anybody.

Ryan gives the camera look to say what was that about?

[Cut to Vinny and Noah talking in the green room]

"I just don't understand how you guys can all do the metal screamy thing but I can't?" Vinny laughed.

Noah tried explaining it to Vinny, who tried to copy and do as he was taught, but still failed.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Angela laughs, walking in with you by her side, "I thought Vin was getting tortured."

"No but we are." Justin sighed.

"Noah's trying to teach Vin to scream, it's pretty funny."

"...No, not like that- Y'know what, ask Justin or Chris, I haven't got the patience for this." Noah shook his head, chuckling slightly as he reached for his water.

Vin still attempted, and still failed.

"Can I please say what we're all thinking?" You ask as you sit beside Noah, resting your legs over his lap.

"Go for it!" Ryan laughed.

"Vin, you have the voice of an angel, honey, but just this once... Shut the fuck up, please." You chuckled.

"Yeah, man, stick to rapping. Trap Demon's overdue a comeback." Rick said from behind the camera.

"Trap Demon?" You raised an eyebrow.

[Cut to Rick trying to set his camera up on a tripod on the beach]

"Uh... Is it straight? Y'know what I don't care actually... We've made it to LA, we've got a couple days off so we decided to spend the day at the beach. Vin and Noah have buried Jolly and Ryan and in the sand and seem to be building sand castles on top of them? Folio's swimming out there with Justin, Chris is just chilling here in the shade like the vampire he is-"

"Coming from you?" Chris chuckled from beside Rick.

"Hey, I don't want to burn! You remember how red me and Vin were after we played that show in Malta, we were only in the sun for less than an hour!"

[Cut to Vinny, who had sunglasses tan lines on his face]

"This is pretty high coverage," Angela explains, showing him the foundation she was going to use, "If I do some colour correcting underneath you wont even notice it!"

"Please just do something. Anything!" Vinny whined. "I've never been sun burned this bad before."

"I told you to wear spf, not my fault you didn't listen." Noah shrugged.

[Cut to Vinny, Rick and Ryan backstage somewhere, Folio is in the back talking with Bryan]

“So,” Rick says, placing the camera down on the table, “It was y/n’s birthday yesterday, and she had other plans so we couldn’t all spend it together. However, our one and only, our dear Vincenzo Mauro booked a venue so we could throw her a surprise party for when she gets back tonight!”

“I’m currently making the playlist,” Vin explains as Ricky turns the camera to him, “Banger after banger, baby! I’ve got some songs I found from her playlists and some DJ shidnfard classics. It’s gonna be a sick night, guys.”

“The good thing about being a band on tour is that you have equipment,” Ryan said, also doing something on his laptop, “We’ve got all our stage lights and shit but nobody here who knows how they work, except Matt but he woke up in a bad mood today so everyone's too afraid to ask him for help, so I’m watching a youtube tutorial on how to set them up.”

“Ryan Sitkowski, our guitarist and soon to be our lights guy,” Rick chuckled, turning the camera back to him, “Angela and Justin are over here, what are you guys up to?”

“Blowing up balloons.” Justin sighed, “I’m gonna be doing this for my kid’s birthday for the next 12 years so why not get some practice?”

“That’s the spirit,” Chris chuckled, walking in with lunch, “How many have you done already?”

“Three.” Justin confessed, “I just don’t know how to tie them!” 

“It’s easy,” Angela chimed in, “Even with these nails I’ve still done more than you.” 

[Cut to Ricky whispering in the dark]

“Okay… She should be here any minute now, Noah’s gone to pick her up…” Rick paused suddenly, thinking he could hear something. “Y/n, if you’re watching this, I’m so glad we met on this tour. I know we didn’t get on too well in the beginning but… You grew on me. I hope our paths cross again after this, and maybe we get the chance to tour together again. Happy birthday!” 

“Fuck, Y/n just texted saying they’re still half an hour away. They stopped at the gas station because Noah needed to pee.” Bryan announces, and everybody groans. 

“Great! I’ve just had an idea!” Rick beamed as the lights were switched back on. 

[Cut to Justin]

“So what was this plan?” Justin asked, he was stood against a blank wall as Rick pointed the camera at his face.

“We’re all going to give y/n a birthday message, whether I actually keep this part in the vlog or not will depend on what people say but I thought it was a good idea!”

“Oh that’s cute,” Justin smiled, “So do I just-”

“Yes, the camera’s rolling.” 

“Oh, okay!” Justin grinned, “Y/n… It’s been great having you with us on this tour, it’s been a pleasure to get to know you, we all think you’re awesome… Vin especially,” he winked, “But seriously, I hope you have a great day, eat cake, party, dance, have fun! You deserve it!” 

[Cut to Angela]

“Happy birthday, my love! I never expected to make a new best friend on tour, but here we are, I love you so much girl!”

[Cut to Chris]

“Happy birthday, Y/n! You've pretty much became a member of the band over these months. You’ve been killing it out here, I don’t think I could thank you enough for making all of us look so photogenic and filling in for our usual guy. We love you!”

[Cut to Vinny]

“Y/n!” He clapped his hands together, “Uh… What can I say about you… You’re pretty cool, not as cool as me but y’know, haha, who is?” He smirked, “No, I’m kidding!” 

“Restart!” Rick called out. "Take 2!"

“Y/n, I think I’m speaking for all of us when I say you brighten our days, your smile lights the room-”

“Hey, it’s a birthday message not a love confession.”

“Shut up!” Vinny groaned, before getting into the zone again, “Y/n, happy birthday! I wanted to say something heartfelt but Rick didn’t like it so I’ll just say you’re awesome! I’m so happy that I’ve gotten to know you, and I hope when tour ends we’ll still be friends, y’know, unless you’ve been simply just tolerating me the last few months cos you had no other choice! Okay how was that?”

[Cut to Ryan]

“Happy birthday, Y/n! I don’t know how you’ve put up with all of us… I can't even stand these guys and we've been doing this for years. Thank you for everything you do for us, it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

[Cut to Jolly]

“Happy birthday, Y/n! Uh… I’m not usually great at stuff like this, but I just want to say thank you for always being there for us. You deserve the world, and I hope you know how much we all appreciate you.”

[Cut to Matt]

“Happy birthday, Y/n! You’re like the little sister I never asked for but now I can’t live without. Thanks for putting up with all of our shit on the daily and still managing to make us look good out there. I hope you had a great birthday!”

[Cut to Folio]

“... But I don’t know what to say- Oh you’re recording! Y/n, I know I give you a hard time sometimes, but it’s only because you’re basically family to me. You’re one of the hardest working people I know, and we’re all so lucky to have you around. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise! I love you so much, I hope you had a nice birthday, and I can’t wait for our fishing trip when this is all over!”

[Cut to Nicholas]

“Y/n! Happy birthday! We all appreciate everything you do for us, even if some of us don’t say it! Have a great night, don’t vomit on Noah this time though… We all remember Bryan’s party!”

[Cut to Bryan]

“You’ll always be my best friend and-”

“Shit I wasn’t recording,” Rick laughed, “Okay, we’re all good.”

“Fuck you, Rick.” Bryan chuckled, “I just said something really beautiful… Y/n, I love you dearly, thanks for sticking with me and being my best friend throughout all the madness in our lives… I can’t remember what else I said now but that’s Rick’s fault. Happy birthday!”

[Cut to darkness, again]

"This is definitely them..." Ricky whispers to the camera.

Suddenly, the lights all switch on, revealing the beautifully decorated room, everyone shouts surprise! As you stand in the doorway, a look of disbelief and excitement on your face as you grin widely

"Oh my god... Guys you didn't have to do this!"

[Cut to Rick at the airport]

"Holy shit. I don't even know if I should post any of this now." He sighs, looking away for a moment, "Some serious shit went down in the last few days... But we did it. We played every show, we... Yeah, I'm not posting any of this shit-"

[Camera cuts]

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

spoiler alert (?) i'll be posting the final chapter in three parts because it's been getting longer and longer and longer, but i'm hoping to post all three parts throughout next week!!

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86 @itsyaboinoah @kait16xo @discocowgirly @rainy-darling

[sequinsmile-x]

The Golden Age of Something Good, and Right, and Real

Emily Prentiss is drunk on love, Aaron Hotchner, and no small amount of tequila.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is for the lovely @ssa-sparks <3 who needed a bit of a pick me up.

I hope this makes you, and anyone else who needs it, smile!

-x-

Warnings: alcohol comsumption

Words: 3.2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“I got more tequila!”

Emily groans as Penelope places a tray of drinks on their table - three shots and three frozen margaritas - and she scrunches her nose up as she makes eye contact with JJ, both of them smiling as Penelope waves off their obvious concern.

“We said no more shots,” Emily says, hearing the slur in her own voice already and grimacing. JJ nods in agreement but grabs one of the shots and cocktails anyway, turning her nose up as she holds up the shot of tequila. 

“I have a kid to look after in the morning,” JJ says before she clinks her shot glass against Emily and Penelope’s, and they all down their shots before placing the empty glasses back down. Emily smirks as she watches the other two grimace, silently thankful for her misspent youth drinking her way across Europe, and her smile only gets wider when JJ rolls her eyes at her lack of reaction before she turns her attention back to Penelope, “Any more of these and I’m getting Will to bring Henry over to your place tomorrow morning.” 

Penelope holds her hands up, “Okay, no more shots. Only margaritas.” 

Emily hums and pulls her drink closer, missing the straw at first, frowning at it as if it had moved as it hits her in the nose before she takes a sip, “Aaron is on his way to pick me up. So no more drinks for me after this one.” 

She smiles as she thinks of her boyfriend. Her sweet, handsome, perfect boyfriend who was currently driving over from her apartment to pick her up from the bar so he knew that she got home safe. He’d insisted, had organised for Jack to stay with Jessica for the weekend, and Emily hadn’t fought back against him at all. She found herself more and more willing to let him look after her these days. It was something she no longer fought against, something she found herself coveting and seeking out - the comfort and help she’d never been comfortable accepting from someone before, something she’d never felt safe enough to accept before, suddenly the thing she wanted most in the world. 

Things were still relatively new between them; it had only been six weeks since their first date, but she knew he was it for her, and that she was it for him. She loved him, and he loved her, and after everything they’d both been through and survived, it felt like nothing short of what they deserved. A peaceful, quiet epilogue to the horror they’d lived through. The happy ending she would have once believed wasn’t possible. 

They hadn’t said it yet, hadn’t said the three little words that carried so much more weight than they felt like they should, but it didn’t mean she didn’t feel it. She felt loved all the time, even when he was simply just looking at her, when she’d catch him staring when he thought she wasn’t looking, a sparkle in his eyes that seemed to mean forever. 

“You two are so cute.” 

JJ chuckles, ready to step in for Emily, to defend her usual love of her privacy, “Pen-”

“No, she’s right,” Emily says, her tongue and inhibitions loosened by the tequila, “We are cute.” 

Penelope squeals, a sound she stopped trying to cover up two rounds of drinks ago, and she sighs contentedly, “You two are perfect for each other.”

“He’s maybe too perfect,” Emily says without meaning to, still lost in thought as she thinks of Aaron, well aware he’d likely have stuffed a bottle of water and her favourite snacks in the passenger door of his car for her, “He is so good at anticipating my needs. I’m not used to it. It’s like he knows what I need before I do.”

“Well, he does analyse behaviour for a living, Em,” JJ says, raising her eyebrow at her and Emily narrows her eyes playfully. 

“I think I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop,” she sighs, “I’ve never…” she scrunches up her nose as she admits something she usually wouldn’t, “I’ve never been this happy,” her cheeks burn with embarrassment as JJ and Penelope both beam at her, excitement shining in their eyes. She takes a sip of her drink, concentrates on the icy burn of it as it slips down her throat, distracting her from how exposed she feels, even if she is with her closest friends, “It’s…weird.” 

“I don’t think the other shoe is going to drop,” JJ says, reaching out for her, placing her hand over Emily’s on the table, “You and Hotch both deserve to be happy. After everything he went through with Foyet and everything you went through with Doyle I think you’ve both had more than your fair share of big bad things.” 

Emily hums, well aware that life didn’t work that way, that there was no set amount of terrible things for any one person to go through. But it’s a nice thought, one she lets herself sink into, pulled under by a mix of hope and overwhelming love for her boyfriend, and she thinks that there would be worse things to drown in. 

“I think the shoes will very firmly stay on for the rest of your life,” Penelope agrees, using her finger to wipe some of the salt from the rim of her glass. She gasps as if something has just occurred to her, and looks up at Emily with wide eyes, “You two are going to have gorgeous babies.” 

Emily laughs and shakes her head, but she takes a sip of her drink to try and settle the flipping in her stomach, to try to ignore the burning in her cheeks at the thought of having kids with Aaron, of building a life she’d always wanted but never thought she’d get to have. She’s just finishing her drink when Aaron walks into the bar, immediately catching her eye in his gorgeously casual outfit, his polo shirt and jeans forcing her to bite her lower lip in an attempt to contain his smile. 

“Aaron!” She calls out, and he looks over, his smile tinged with amusement the moment he sees her. She waves him over and links her hand through his as soon as he’s by her side, tugging him into the empty seat on her right. She leans in to kiss him, her lips catching his cheek, “Hi honey.” 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, smiling as he looks at the empty glasses on the table, “Did you have fun?” 

She tries to roll her eyes at him, but it makes her dizzy, so she settles for squeezing his hand a little tightly, “Yes. I did.” 

JJ clears her throat, and it reminds them that they aren’t alone. They both look up, neither one of them missing the amused smiles on JJ and Penelope’s faces, “We had fun too,” JJ says, sipping her drink, “If you care.”

He clears his throat and nods, and Emily kicks JJ under the table, her eyes flashing with a playful warning for embarrassing Aaron, something that only seems to encourage their friends. Emily shakes her head and turns to look at her boyfriend, “Ready to go?” 

He nods and turns to Penelope and JJ, “Do you want me to take you home?” 

“No, thank you, sir, Hotch,” Penelope replies, “We’re going to stay a bit longer.” 

Emily stands up, almost losing her footing, which has everything to do with the sticky floor and not the amount she’s had to drink, and Aaron stands too, his hands on her hips as he steadies her. She hugs Penelope and JJ goodbye, makes them promise to text her when they get home, and links her arms through Aaron’s as they leave the bar. 

“You know they’ll already be talking about us,” she says, resting her head against his shoulder as they step outside, shivering against the cool air. 

“I’m sure they are,” Aaron replies, pausing to shrug off his jacket and wrap it around her shoulders before he links his arm back through hers and starts walking again towards his car, “You had fun?”

She hums, “So much fun,” she squeezes his arm, “Pen said we’re cute,” she says, her smile slightly lopsided as they make it to his car and she turns to look at him, “I agreed,” she says, stamping her lips against his, leaving the taste of liquor and her behind, “We are cute.” 

“We are,” he chuckles and nods, unlocking his car and then opening the passenger door for her, holding it open for her as she slumps into her seat. He rounds the car and gets into the driver's side, smiling at her as she initially struggles to clip her seatbelt into place. He nods towards the passenger door pocket, “I brought some water for you. And those salt and vinegar chips you like.” 

She groans in delight and reaches for the chips, tearing the bag open before he even starts the engine, “You really might be the perfect boyfriend.” 

___

She almost trips up the stairs leading to her apartment building.

Twice. 

Aaron keeps his arm around her, flitting between amusement at her lack of coordination and simply wanting to get her back to her apartment in one piece. He uses the key she gave him on their second date to let them in, his eyes wide as she slips her hand into the back pocket of his jeans to grab his ass, looking around to make sure none of her neighbours are nearby as he guides her into her home. She snuggles up against him as he locks the door and sets the alarm, and then he wraps his arm around her.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you into bed.” 

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” she hums and stops in place, tugging on his arm until he’s right in front of her. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, her tongue licking through his mouth before she pulls back, her eyes hazy and her smile soft, “Let’s go to bed.”

He smiles and stamps his lips against hers before he carries on leading her through the apartment, “The only thing you’ll be doing in bed tonight is sleeping.” 

She groans, “But Aaron…” 

He clears his throat to cover a chuckle at the whining tone of her voice, knowing even when drunk she wouldn’t accept him making fun of her. He encourages her into her ensuite bathroom and sits her down on the closed toilet seat. 

“Emily, baby,” he says, smiling as he strokes his knuckles down her cheek, “I think if we had sex tonight it would count as a felony,” he leans in and kisses her forehead, “Tomorrow when you’re sober. If you’re feeling up to it.” 

“I’m always feeling up to it,” she grumbles, narrowing her eyes as she watches him open her medicine cabinet, “What are you doing?” 

He holds up a pack of cotton pads and her make-up remover, “Taking off your make-up for you,” he says, barely stifling a groan as he kneels in front of her, “I know it’s not your full skincare routine,” he says, tipping some of the remover onto one of the pads, “But it’s better than waking up with today’s make-up still on.” 

“You’re a good boyfriend,” she smiles at him, her lips pressed together as he carefully starts to wipe her face, “I told JJ and Pen that you’re too perfect.” 

He chuckles, concentrating on his task as he raises an eyebrow at her, “I don’t think that’s something I’ve ever been accused of before.” 

She frowns, “Don’t say that,” she says, jumping to his defence, even though it’s him she’s defending him from, “You are perfect,” she mutters, “Perfect for me.” 

He disposes of the first cotton pad and throws it in the nearby trash can. He takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss her cheek before he starts the process again, pulling another pad out of the packet, “You’re perfect for me too.” 

Her eyes drift close as he carries on taking off her make-up, and for a moment he thinks she may have fallen asleep where she’s sitting, but then her eyes flutter open. She stares at him, thinks about how at home he looked in her apartment, wearing jeans that he kept in her closet and wiping off her make-up with remover he’d bought for her after she lamented she’d run out last week. 

“I don’t think anyone’s ever taken my make-up off for me before,” she says, her words almost slurring into one, “And no one has ever looked after me like you do,” she shrugs, “I’ve never let them.” 

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he hesitates for a second before he finishes removing her make-up, “Why do you let me look after you?” 

She shrugs again, “I think it’s because I love you,” she says simply, as if she’s said it a thousand times before, not just this once, “And I thought I’d been in love before, but I never felt anything like this for them,” she leans in closer, as if whispering a secret to him, as if they weren’t the only two in the apartment, “I think you might be the love of my life.” 

For a moment, he stops breathing, his heart stuttering in his chest, as she so casually says what they’d both been talking around for weeks. 

He’d been in love with her for longer than he cared to admit even to himself. He didn’t need to hear the words to know how she felt about him, he saw it in everything she did. In the way she so casually looked after him, in the way she’d always touch him when it was just the two of them, the press of her skin against hers the only confession he thought he needed. He told himself he’d wait her out, that he would go at her pace, but he couldn’t lie and pretend that hearing her say it wasn’t one of the best moments of his life.

“Want to know a secret?” He says, and she nods, “I think you’re the love of my life too.” 

She beams at him and leans forward to kiss him, pressing her forehead against his, “We’re going to bed?” 

“Yes,” he says, standing up and offering her a hand, something she takes, linking their fingers together as she stands, “To sleep.” 

She scoffs but leans into his side anyway, her face pressed into his shoulder, “Spoilsport.”

___

The first thing she’s aware of when she wakes up is the pounding in her head. She groans as she rolls over onto her back, her arm thrown over her eyes as she protests being awake.

“Good morning.” 

Even the gruff, beautiful, sound of her boyfriend’s voice first thing in the morning is too loud and she moves her arm just enough to look at him. He’s sitting up in bed, his back against the headrest, and he’s smiling down at her, “What the hell did I drink last night?” 

He shifts closer and she moves just enough to rest her cheek against his stomach, “I think that bar might have a tequila shortage.” 

“Oh God,” she grumbles, curling further into him as he wraps his arms around her, “Penelope Garcia is dead. The moment I can stand up.” 

He laughs and leans down to kiss her forehead, “I’ll go get you some water and aspirin.”

She tightens her hold on him, “In a minute,” she says, tilting her head to look up at him, “You’re comfortable.” 

He nods and runs his fingers through her hair, “You had fun last night?” 

She hums, “Judging by my pounding headache and my intense craving for bacon I’d say so.” 

“I’ll make breakfast for you too,” he says, scratching lightly at her scalp, “When you were out last night I went to the store and got bacon and everything I need to make you pancakes.” 

She groans, this time happily, “You’re a good boyfriend.” 

“You said that last night too,” he says, running his knuckles down her cheek, smiling when she furrows her brow, tilting her head as if asking when, “Right after you propositioned me and just before I took your make-up off for you.” 

She smiles, something she couldn’t suppress even if she wanted to, and she feels warmth flood through her, her chest full of love and adoration she can feel on the tip of her tongue. She almost says it, almost says she loves him, but then she feels a wave of nausea and the dryness in her mouth, and she knows she doesn’t want it to be like this. 

“Well, I was right,” she says, smiling up at him, her lips pressed together to stop herself from saying what was desperate to burst free. She rests her head back on his stomach and draws idle patterns on the comforter over his thigh, “I’ll take that aspirin and glass of water now.” 

He leans down and kisses her forehead before he climbs out of bed, taking a second to rearrange the covers around her. She watches him go, and she feels half a memory, a warm feeling in her chest that feels familiar, the way he looks so at home in her home triggering something she can’t quite reach. 

“Honey?” She says, waiting for him to turn to look at her, “I didn’t say anything embarrassing last night did I?” 

“Just that I’m a perfect boyfriend,” he replies, suppressing a smirk as she flops back down onto the bed, burying her face in his pillow, her voice muffled when she speaks again. 

“I didn’t say anything else, right?” She asks, her eyes wide in mild horror as she looks up at him, blinking against the light in the bedroom. 

He thinks about telling her, about reminding her of the love confession she’d made whilst sitting on the closed lid of her toilet, her face pressed against his hand as he took off her make-up for her, her eyes half closed. And whilst he knows he’ll always treasure it, that for him that uninhibited, drunk, version of her was just as beautiful and precious to him as any other version, he knows it wouldn’t be the same for her. Saying I love you, admitting it to someone for the first time, was a big deal, bigger for her than most, and he didn’t want to take that from her. 

He wants it to be something she looked back on fondly too. 

“No, sweetheart,” he says, smiling softly, “You didn’t say anything else.” 

She sinks into the bedding in relief, tugging it up around her to fight against the slight chill of the room, “You said something about breakfast?” 

He nods and turns to leave the room, sneaking one last glance at her before he goes, “Coming right up.”

A week later, when she says I love you for the first time, for the second time, he says it back immediately, his lips pressed against hers as she smiles widely, and he knows he’s made the right choice. 

[msklassickilla]

Delirious | J. Uso|R. Reigns Six

Summary: When Titania buys an old typewriter from a closing thrift store, she thinks it’s just a vintage gem—until the words she types start coming true. However, the typewriter doesn’t just bring fantasies to life—it twists them. Giving Titania way more than she bargained for.

Pairing: Titania Marshall (Black OC) x Jey Uso x Roman Reigns

Author’s Note: This story is another AU thing. So, it might align, or it might not. I will try my best to keep it current enough. Nonetheless, it’s mash up of a few things: That one episode of Goosebumps. That one episode of the Twilight Zone. And that movie by the same title, Delirious featuring John Candy. I’ma make it work. Plus, I like mystical spooky shit with a bit of Jerry Springer type mess.

Warning(s): Some minor not detailed SMUT

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Six

Titania stretched her legs across the couch, laptop balanced on her thighs, the glow of the screen illuminating her face. Jey was still on the road, set to fly back tomorrow, and the house felt unbearably quiet without him.

She had gotten used to his presence—the way his voice filled every empty space, the way his body moved so easily through her world, like he had always belonged there.

Because now, he did.

She had written it that way.

Titania glanced toward the hallway, her eyes lingering on the spare room door. The typewriter was in there, waiting, but she had promised herself she wouldn’t touch it. Not tonight.

Instead, she focused on the document open on her laptop. An outline for a new story—a real one, something she had actually created on her own. But the words weren’t coming.

She sighed, shutting the laptop and tossing it aside. Her gaze drifted back to the spare room door. Her chest tightened. She didn’t need to check. She didn’t need to know. But the pull was there, relentless, a whisper at the back of her mind. Titania stood before she could talk herself out of it, feet moving on their own.

The spare room was still and untouched, the air thick with something unspoken, something unseen. The typewriter sat in its usual place on the desk, the glossy black keys gleaming in the dim light.

At first, Titania felt relief. The last page she had typed was still in the roller, the same words she remembered. But then her eyes drifted lower. There was a new page. A fresh sheet of paper, partially rolled into the typewriter, with a single sentence neatly typed at the top.

A page she hadn’t loaded.

You belong to him now. And he will never let you go.

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t written that. Her hand hovered over the paper, fingers trembling.

The typewriter was changing things on its own.

The realization sent a cold shiver down her spine. Had it always done this? Had it always known what she wanted before she even did? Or worse… was it deciding for her? Titania backed away, her pulse hammering in her ears.

She needed air. She needed Jey.

----

The next evening, Titania stood in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing her hair for what felt like the tenth time. She told herself it was just another night out, just her and Jey, but her reflection told another story.

Her eyes were tired, shadowed with something she didn’t want to name. It wasn’t just that she hadn’t slept well. It was the sentence.

You belong to him now. And he will never let you go.

Her stomach twisted just thinking about it. The typewriter had never done that before. She had always been the one in control. She had written Jey into her life—not the other way around.

Hadn’t she?

A car pulled into the driveway, and Titania jumped at the sound of a door slamming. Jey was home. A strange mix of relief and unease settled over her as she smoothed her dress, forcing a deep breath before heading downstairs. Jey stepped inside like he owned the place. Because now, he did.

He dropped his bag near the door, kicking it aside before looking up at her. The second his eyes met hers, a slow, satisfied grin spread across his lips.

“Damn, ma,” he murmured, closing the distance between them. “You look good enough to keep me home tonight.”

Titania forced a small laugh, but the way he said it— like she was his to keep, to have, to hold forever—made something cold settle in her stomach.

He pulled her in without hesitation, arms solid, unyielding, wrapping around her waist like they belonged there. His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, “Missed you.”

Titania swallowed hard.

She wanted to melt into him, to let herself believe everything was normal, but the words from the typewriter wouldn’t leave her alone.

She must’ve hesitated too long, because Jey leaned back slightly, studying her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said too quickly. “I just—I guess I’m still getting used to all this.”

Jey tilted his head, lips curving into something unreadable. “All what?”

Titania swallowed. “You. Us.”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head as he reached up, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Ain’t nothing to get used to, Tee. This is just how it is now.”

Her stomach flipped, and she didn’t know if it was from his touch or the way he said it.

Before she could respond, he took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Come on. We’re going out. I want you next to me tonight.”

----

The bar had a pool table, dim lighting, and just enough of a crowd to make it comfortable, not chaotic. It was the kind of place Jey had probably been to a hundred times before—so why did it feel like she had been here before, too?

Titania ran her fingers over the edge of the pool table, her skin prickling with an eerie sense of familiarity. She hadn’t written this night. She knew she hadn’t. So why did it feel like she had already lived it?

Jey leaned against the table, chalking the cue stick, watching her. “You ever played before?”

Titania blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. “Uh, yeah. A few times.”

“Bet you suck.” His grin was teasing, his eyes glinting with amusement.

She rolled her eyes, grabbing a stick. “You don’t know that.”

Jey smirked. “Oh, I know, baby. But don’t worry—I’ll be gentle with you.”

Titania shook her head, laughing despite herself. But as she bent down to line up her first shot, a strange chill ran through her.

I’ve done this before.

Not just played pool. Not just had a date like this. This moment. The way Jey stood behind her, his hands grazing her waist. The way his voice dipped lower as he murmured, “Nah, Tee, hold it like this.”

The way he brushed up against her, body heat pressing against her back, breath warm against her ear. It was exact. Too exact. Her grip tightened on the cue stick. Had she written this? Had she rewritten it?

Jey let out a low chuckle, shifting slightly against her. “You keep bending like that, Tee, and I’m gonna forget we’re in public.”

Titania’s breath caught in her throat. That exact phrase. That exact tone, timing, delivery.

Her vision blurred for a second, her heartbeat loud, uneven. She had heard him say that before. But not here. Not like this. She straightened up too quickly, the cue stick nearly slipping from her fingers. Jey frowned, his amusement fading into something more curious.

“You good?”

Titania nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just, um… just got a little dizzy.”

Jey studied her for a moment before his expression eased again, his smirk returning.

“Alright, baby,” he murmured, stepping closer, boxing her in against the table. His fingers found her wrist, sliding slowly up her arm. “Then maybe we should stop playing games.”

Titania opened her mouth—to say what, she didn’t know—but Jey was already leaning in, claiming her mouth with his. And just like that, the déjà vu was gone.

All she could feel was him.

The ride home was charged, thick with something unspoken, something inevitable.

Jey drove with one hand on the wheel, his other resting on her thigh, fingers warm and possessive as they traced lazy circles over her skin. Every so often, he’d squeeze—just enough to make her pulse quicken, just enough to remind her of what was coming.

Titania stared out the window, her heart pounding against her ribs. She had dreamed about this. All of it. For years, she had imagined moments just like this—Jey wanting her, taking her, looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And now, here it was. Real. Happening. So why did she still feel like she was watching it from a distance?

----

The second they stepped inside, Jey didn’t wait.

The door had barely clicked shut before he was on her, hands gripping her waist, lips crashing down against hers with a force that made her knees buckle. Titania gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders as he backed her against the wall, body heat pressing into her, solid and unyielding.

“You’ve been thinking about this all night, huh?” Jey rasped; his voice lower, darker, rough with need.

Titania barely managed a breath before his mouth was on her neck, teeth grazing, sucking just enough to make her shudder. She had dreamed of this. Jey kissing her like he needed her to breathe. Touching her like he had always known exactly how she wanted to be touched. Now, she didn’t have to dream anymore.

Now, she could feel the heat of his skin, the weight of his hands, the way he was already pulling at the hem of her dress like he couldn’t stand the barrier between them.

Titania let out a sharp breath as he spun her around, pressing her front against the door.

“Jey—”

“You gonna let me have you, Tee?” he murmured against her ear, voice thick with dangerous amusement.

Titania shivered, her fingers flexing against the wood. “I—”

Jey pressed his thigh between hers, holding her there, his breath hot against the side of her neck.

“Tell me.”

Her body arched instinctively, every inch of her tuned to him, drawn to him. She had waited for this for so long.

She exhaled, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

That was all he needed. Jey grinned against her skin, his hands sliding down her thighs before gripping the back of her dress and pulling it up with one slow, deliberate motion.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “I ain’t taking my time tonight.”

----

Everything blurred after that. It was a mess of hands, mouths, tangled sheets, heat so intense she could barely breathe. Jey was everywhere.

His hands were firm, demanding, claiming every inch of her like he had been starving for her. His body was heavy over hers, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered things that made her skin burn. Titania gave in completely.

She let herself be taken, let herself be owned, let herself feel what it was like to be Jey Uso’s girl. She didn’t think. She didn’t question.

Not now.

Not when he was holding her down, pinning her wrists above her head, his mouth dragging over her collarbone before dipping lower.

Not when he told her, “You’re mine, Tee. Say it.”

And especially not when she actually said it back.

----

Later, she lay tangled in the sheets, Jey’s arm draped over her waist, his breathing deep and steady against her neck.

Her body was aching, sensitive, satisfied. But her mind wouldn’t shut off.

She had dreamed of this—of Jey being hers, of knowing his hands, his mouth, the way he moved when he was desperate for her. But now that she had it, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had done this before.

Jey had touched her like he had always known exactly how to unravel her. Like he had already lived this moment. Maybe it was just chemistry. Maybe it was nothing.

Or maybe, just maybe—

She was losing track of what was real. Titania woke up to the sensation of warm lips trailing along her shoulder, slow and lazy.

A deep hum vibrated against her skin as Jey pulled her closer, his chest flushed against her back, fingers tracing idle patterns along her waist.

“Morning, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Titania sighed; eyes still heavy as she melted into his touch. The warmth of his body, the steadiness of his breath, the way his fingers gripped her just a little tighter when she shifted—it was addictive. She had dreamed of mornings like this. Now, she had them. Every single day.

Jey kissed the back of her neck, his grip flexing over her hip. “You sore?”

Titania swallowed, her stomach flipping. “A little.”

His smirk was evident in his tone. “Good.”

Titania rolled onto her back, facing him. “You’re proud of yourself, huh?”

Jey grinned, half-lidded eyes drinking her in like he had all the time in the world. “Of course. Look at you.” His fingers brushed over her thigh, squeezing lightly. “Laid up in my bed, wearing nothing but my marks.”

Titania’s breath hitched. She felt claimed. And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she minded. She slipped out of bed an hour later, wrapping herself in Jey’s oversized hoodie before padding into the kitchen. The house felt unnaturally quiet, the leftover tension from the night before still lingering in the air.

Her thoughts felt scattered. The familiarity of the night—the way Jey knew her body before she even had to tell him, the way he spoke to her, touched her—it hadn’t left her mind. She had let herself get lost in him.

But now?

She needed to clear her head. She moved toward the hallway, feet carrying her somewhere she swore she didn’t want to go. The spare room door was already cracked open. Titania’s heart pounded.

Don’t go in there.

But she did. The air in the room was thick, heavy, suffocating. Titania’s breath hitched the second she saw the page. A new message. The typewriter had written again. She hadn’t touched it. Hadn’t even been in this room since the last time. Her stomach twisted as she stepped closer, her pulse hammering against her ribs.

Her hands shook as her eyes scanned the words, neatly typed at the top of the fresh page:

"You are his. And soon, you won’t remember being anything else."

A chill ripped through her. Titania’s fingers hovered over the page, her breath shallow.

What the hell does that mean?

Her eyes darted around the room as if expecting someone—or something—to be there. The words sat on the page, mocking her.

Like a warning.

Like a promise.

Like a fact.

Her mind raced. Was it talking about Jey? Was it talking to her? A sudden warmth wrapped around her waist. Titania jumped.

Jey’s voice was right at her ear. “You jumpy, Tee,” he murmured, his lips barely grazing her skin.

Titania sucked in a sharp breath, her hands gripping the edge of the desk. She hadn’t even heard him come in. Jey glanced down at the typewriter, but if he saw anything unusual, he didn’t react.

Instead, he turned her in his arms, tilting his head as he studied her face. “Something wrong?”

Titania swallowed, forcing a weak smile. “No. Just… woke up early.”

Jey’s gaze lingered for a second too long, as if he knew she was lying. Then, just as easily, his lips curled into a smirk.

“I was thinking…” he murmured, dragging his thumb lazily along her hip. “…maybe it’s time we move.”

Titania’s entire body stiffened. She barely found her voice. “Move?”

“To Florida.”

The room tilted. Her breath caught in her throat. She never wrote that. That was never even a thought of hers.

Jey’s smirk widened. “Yeah, Tee. I want us to be together. For real. No more back and forth.”

Titania’s chest tightened. Was this him? Or was this the typewriter deciding for her again? And worse—was she already too far gone to tell the difference?

Titania barely spoke the rest of the day. Jey didn’t seem to notice—or if he did, he didn’t care. He was too caught up in the idea of them moving to Florida, of making their life together permanent. Every time he talked about it, his voice was steady, confident, certain. Like he had already made up his mind. Like she didn’t even have a choice. And maybe she didn’t.

Because hadn’t the typewriter already decided for her?

"You are his. And soon, you won’t remember being anything else."

Titania swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter as Jey moved around the house, talking about plans, about Jimmy and Naomi, about how easy it would be for her to just pack up and leave everything behind.

She should have argued. She should have said something. But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, she wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

----

That night, Titania curled up on the couch, Jey stretched out beside her, his head lazily resting in her lap. Some reality show was playing in the background, but she wasn’t watching it.

Jey was scrolling through his phone, aimlessly tapping through messages until suddenly, the screen lit up— Roman.

Titania’s breath hitched. Jey’s smirk was instant, as if he had been expecting the call. He sat up, running a hand through his hair before answering.

“’Sup, Uce.”

Titania listened, silent, as Roman’s voice rumbled through the speaker. Deep. Smooth. Effortlessly commanding. Even through the phone, he sounded in control.

“Just checking in,” Roman said, his tone unreadable. “See you’ve been doing your own thing.”

Jey chuckled, shifting against the couch. “Yeah, you know how it is. Ain’t nothing changed, though. You still you think you the Tribal Chief, huh?”

Roman hummed, slow and deliberate. “Damn right I am. I don’t care what Solo got going on.”

Titania shouldn’t be reacting to this. But she was. Something about his voice, his presence, his power sent a slow, simmering heat through her veins.

She knew this man. She had watched him for years, seen him command an arena with nothing but a glance, watched him make people bend to his will. She had always admired him. She had always been a little drawn to him. And now, suddenly, that pull felt stronger.

Jey was still talking, but Titania wasn’t listening anymore. Because a thought had crept into her mind, uninvited, unwelcome.

Could she have more than just Jey?

The second the idea formed, her stomach twisted. No. That was insane. That was wrong. But the thought wouldn’t leave her. Because hadn’t she rewritten reality before? Hadn’t she gotten exactly what she wanted?

Jey hung up a few minutes later, tossing his phone onto the couch before pulling Titania back against him.

“Everything good?” she asked, her voice barely steady.

Jey smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to her temple. “Yeah. You know how he is. Just keeping an eye on everything.”

Titania nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. Because now, there was a new temptation. A whisper of something she hadn’t let herself think about before. And as much as she tried to push it away, she knew it wouldn’t go anywhere.

Because the typewriter had already shown her the truth. If she wanted something bad enough, all she had to do was write it.

And maybe—just maybe—she was beginning to want Roman Reigns.

----

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[alittlegiraffe]

Title: "Not Letting Go"

The house looked the same. The porch light flickered the way it always had, the paint on the door was chipped in the same places, and the flowers you had planted last spring were still hanging on despite the colder weather. But it didn’t feel the same.

Marshall’s fingers clenched around the steering wheel as he sat in his car, parked in front of the place he used to call home. His stomach twisted with nerves, his palms damp with sweat. This wasn’t just any visit—this was the visit. The one where he either won you back or walked away knowing he had lost you for good.

He had no one to blame but himself.

The late nights, the slurred words, the empty promises—all fueled by the pills, the fog that had wrapped around his mind and body for years. He had told himself he was in control, that he wasn’t hurting anyone but himself. But he had been so wrong.

The moment you had slid those divorce papers across the table, your hands shaking but your voice steady, something inside him had snapped. He had begged, pleaded, told you he would change—but you had just shaken your head, pain swimming in your eyes.

"I can’t do this anymore, Marshall," you had whispered. "I love you, but I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself."

It had taken losing you to finally open his eyes.

And now, six months clean, his mind clear for the first time in years, he was standing on your doorstep, heart pounding harder than it ever had before.

Would you even want to see him?

Would you even believe him?

He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before knocking.

For a few moments, nothing happened.

Then the door creaked open, and there you were.

You looked… good. Tired, maybe, but still so you. The sight of you knocked the air from his lungs. You weren’t wearing your wedding ring anymore. The realization hit him like a gut punch, but he swallowed the pain.

"Marshall," you said cautiously, gripping the doorframe like you weren’t sure whether to slam the door or step outside.

"Hey," he said, voice hoarse.

Silence stretched between you, thick and heavy with everything unsaid.

Finally, you sighed. "What are you doing here?"

Marshall ran a hand over his buzzed hair, exhaling before meeting your gaze head-on. "I had to see you. I had to tell you in person."

"Tell me what?" Your voice was guarded, like you were bracing yourself for another excuse, another empty apology.

"I got clean." The words felt heavy in the air, real in a way they hadn’t been before. "Six months. No pills, no nothing. I—I had to. I had to, (Y/N), because I was losing everything. I was losing you."

You blinked, shock flickering across your face before something else—something softer—settled in your expression. But it wasn’t relief. It wasn’t forgiveness.

"Marshall, that’s—" You hesitated, exhaling shakily. "That’s really good. I am proud of you."

His chest tightened at the careful way you said it, like you didn’t want to give him too much hope. Like you were afraid to believe it.

"I know I messed up," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I hurt you in ways I can’t take back. And I’m not here to beg or force you to change your mind, but I am here to tell you—I’m fighting for you. For us."

You closed your eyes for a moment, pressing your lips together. "Marshall…"

"I know I don’t deserve you back just because I finally got my shit together," he cut in, his voice raw. "I know it doesn’t work that way. But I needed you to know that I’m not the same man I was when you left. I don’t want to be that man again. I don’t want to lose you."

Tears welled in your eyes, and it killed him to see it, to know he was the reason for them. "Do you know how many times I wanted to believe you’d change?" Your voice wavered. "How many nights I spent hoping you'd wake up and realize what you were doing to yourself? To us?"

"I know," he murmured, voice thick. "And I hate that it took losing you to finally get my head on straight. But I did it, baby. And I’m gonna keep doing it. Whether you take me back or not—I’m staying clean. But I want you back. I just… I need you to know that I’m not giving up on us. Not without a fight."

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. His hands itched to reach for you, to pull you into him, to prove that he was different. But he didn’t. Not yet.

"I don’t know if I can just… let everything go," you whispered.

"You don’t have to," he said quickly. "I don’t expect that. I just—I just want a chance to prove to you that I’m not the man you walked away from. Let me earn you back."

You looked at him then, really looked at him. His eyes were clearer than they had been in years. His shoulders, once hunched with exhaustion and addiction, stood strong again. He was Marshall again—the man you had fallen in love with before the drugs had taken him away.

"I don’t know if I’m ready," you admitted.

"Then I’ll wait," he said without hesitation. "For as long as it takes."

The air between you felt charged, fragile.

Finally, you sighed, stepping back just a little. "Do you… want to come in?"

It wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t a guarantee. But it was something.

Marshall let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Yeah. I’d really like that."

And as you stepped aside to let him in, he swore he’d never take this second chance for granted.

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 35

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 700

Masterlist

———————————————————————

I was now walking toward my apartment. I hadn’t gone back to Lucy’s car.  

I wanted to be alone, to breathe, to think.  

I had poured everything out, without much thought. I needed it—the words were out, clear and unfiltered.  

Even though she hadn’t known how to respond, deep down, I felt relieved.  

It started to rain.  

Lucy called me several times, then sent me a message.  

  "Ona, come to my place. I need to talk to you."    

On my way to my apartment in the city center, still drenched in rain, I passed by Lucy’s house. I stopped for a few minutes. Should I go in?  

 "I need to talk to you."   

Those were her words. For once, I decided not to run away. I turned onto a path leading to her place.  

I arrived at the back of her house, slipping under a gate. I saw her through the large bay window, in her living room, phone in hand. At that moment, my phone rang. I answered.  

 "Hello?"   

 "Ona! Where are you?"   

 "Behind you."   

She turned around, surprised. When she saw me, she seemed relieved.  

She opened the sliding door and let me in.  

 "Ona, look at you—you’re soaked!"  she scolded.  

I was drenched from the downpour, shivering now.  

 "Go take a bath. I’ll bring you some dry clothes!"   

I protested:  

 "It’s fine, Lucy, it’s just water!"   

 "You’re freezing, Ona. Go on, you know the way!"   

The mere thought of a hot bath warmed me. I headed to the bathroom and ran the water. I slid into the steaming, foamy water, closing my eyes, trying to collect myself after the turbulent evening.  

I startled as Lucy entered the bathroom, holding a towel and clothes, which she set on a chair. She sat beside me, next to the bathtub.  

My throat tightened. I struggled to meet her gaze, which seemed kind nonetheless.  

 "Ona, I wanted to tell you..."   

I interrupted her.  

 "Lucy, we don’t have to talk about what I said. I lost it, and..."   

 "We’re going to talk about it, Ona, and you’re going to let me speak, okay?"   

She took a breath.  

 "I didn’t know what to say in the car after what you told me. It was intense. I was searching for the words, but none came. I struggle with this kind of thing, Ona. I can handle budgets, officials, angry residents, endless meetings—but this, I find hard... What I feel, what I’m experiencing..."   

She avoided my gaze, searching for the right words.  

 "It’s been a very long time, years, since I felt this way. Since you came into my life, I feel like I’m losing control, and that scares me."   

My breath quickened. She slipped her hand into the hot water, clasping mine. She was looking directly at me now.  

 "I want to see you more than once every three days. I want to be with you, to build something. But it’s complicated. I’m just asking for time—until the elections, in five months. After that, I’ll be free, at least from the media’s gaze. You said Alexia keeps pushing you to take a long vacation. So, come with me. Let’s go away for a month! And if we don’t drive each other crazy by then, maybe we can think about living together!"   

I smiled at her humor in such a serious moment. I didn’t know what to say in the face of her declaration. My heart was racing. Yes, I would wait for her.  

I leaned toward her, our lips meeting. We kissed, our tongues entwining in a delicious sensation. In one motion, I grabbed her hip and pulled her into the bath, fully clothed.  

 "Ona! Look at me—I’m soaked now!"  she exclaimed, laughing.  

I felt completely at ease, there, with her, against me.  

 "You know, your late-night messages made me laugh at first. Then, I imagined you drunk

, with her..."   

 "Shh!"  I kissed her to silence her.  

One by one, I removed each piece of her clothing, desiring her bare body against mine, wanting to kiss her all over, which I did—tenderly and passionately.  

I would’ve stayed in that bathtub with her for hours. But I left her house soon after, as the twins were due to return within the hour.  

As I headed home, my body, mind, and heart were all in turmoil, still carrying Lucy’s delightful scent on my clothes.  

The evening, which had started so poorly, had opened a new chapter in our story.  

Before falling asleep, I sent her one last message.  

 "That exhibition was magical!

[kathlare]

bet u wanna

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando finds himself alone in the quiet of Monaco, wrestling with the emotions stirred up by Amelie’s album.

Wordcount: 1.8 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 18th, 2022 - Monte Carlo, Monaco

Lando shifted in his bed, glancing over at his mates who were sprawled out across the living room, asleep. Max, Ed, and Tom had come to Monaco for the weekend to visit him, taking advantage of the little break they had during the racing season. The house was quiet now, the only sound the soft hum of the AC and the gentle ticking of the clock. The guys had been in a bit of a rowdy mood earlier, but now, with everyone passed out, the place had taken on a calm, almost eerie stillness.

His phone sat on the nightstand, glowing faintly. He’d tried to ignore it for the past hour, but now, as the quiet stretched on, he found his mind wandering back to the same thing that had been nagging him for the last couple of days—Amelie. Her album, emails i can't send, had come out a few days ago, and the buzz around it was everywhere. Fans had been relentless, dissecting every lyric, speculating which songs were about him. The curiosity had been killing him. Everyone had been talking about it, and Lando couldn’t quite escape it, not even in the comfort of his own home.

He stared at his phone for a few more seconds before a wave of impulse washed over him. The thought of hearing her voice again—just for a few minutes—was too tempting. He couldn’t resist.

The house was dark, and the guys were sprawled out in the living room, so he slipped out of his room as quietly as possible, his bare feet padding softly against the floor. He snuck downstairs and outside, walking toward his beloved baby blue Jolly parked in the driveway. The car was just as much a part of him as the racing circuit itself. He’d had the car for years now, and even though it wasn’t anything special to anyone else, to him, it was comfort.

Lando slid into the driver’s seat, shutting the door gently. He stared at the stereo for a moment, almost waiting for some cosmic sign that would tell him this was a bad idea. But instead, his fingers hovered over the buttons, shaking slightly. He could feel the weight of what he was about to do.

Finally, with a deep breath, he pressed play.

The first song shuffled onto the stereo, and the soft intro to "bet u wanna" began to play, filling the car with Amelie’s voice.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, suddenly feeling like he was back in 2020, when everything had been so easy. The pandemic had brought them together in a way nothing else had. It had started with video games, late-night chats, and the undeniable pull of a friendship that had quickly turned into something else. He hadn’t been prepared for that—hadn’t been ready for her.

Her voice, unmistakable and raw, slid into the air, wrapping itself around him. —“Told me, told me, I’m your only…”—The words stabbed at him. He leaned his head back against the headrest, his chest tight. He didn’t want to hear this. He really didn’t. But he couldn’t pull himself away.

It had been over a year since they’d last seen each other. May 2021. The last time he’d heard her laugh. The last time they’d been... whatever they were. He hated how easily they’d slipped into this pattern, how quickly things had crumbled when Amelie got busy with Wicked and he started talking to Luisinha. It wasn’t like he regretted the decision he’d made. It was just... everything had felt unfinished with Amelie. The friendship, the connection, the things they never said. And now, the song. God, the song.

—“You’ve been wasting time, on the other side, if you’re satisfied... Touché.”—

It was too much. Lando ran a hand through his messy hair, shaking his head. He’d heard the rumors, the whispers from fans, speculating which tracks were about him. The curiosity had eaten at him until it felt like he couldn’t breathe without hearing her voice again, without knowing if she’d written about him. It felt like he was reliving a part of his life he wasn’t sure he wanted back.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest as the lyrics hit him hard —“Bet you wanna touch me now... Bet you wanna love me now…”—

He gritted his teeth. She was right. He did want to. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that it was too late. She had moved on. He had moved on. Hadn’t they?

The song played on, but Lando couldn’t take it anymore. He jammed his finger down on the stereo, the music abruptly cutting off. The silence in the car was almost deafening, and he let out a shaky breath. He leaned his head against the steering wheel, his hands gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white. God, this wasn’t fair.

He hadn’t even made it through the song. Her voice, the words—every line felt like a punch to his gut. He didn’t even want to know if this song was about him. He didn’t want to know if she was still angry. Or hurt. Or… missing him.

Lando sat there for a long moment, staring at the darkened street outside his window, trying to regain some sense of composure. But everything felt off. The cool Monaco night, the soft hum of the city in the distance—it all felt wrong. Like he wasn’t supposed to be here. Like this was something he shouldn’t have done.

The steady rhythm of his breathing was the only thing that filled the space around him, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm raging in his chest. Lando stared out into the night, watching the faint glow of streetlights cast shadows over the empty roads. It was a familiar feeling, being out here in his car, but it didn’t bring the peace he was used to. Instead, it felt like everything that had happened—everything he tried to forget—was crashing down on him in waves.

He couldn’t help but think back to all the times they’d spent together. Amelie, laughing at his bad jokes, sitting next to him while they played video games for hours, and then, when it all shifted into something more. Something complicated. Something they never quite figured out. She had always been his escape. The one person who didn’t judge him for what he did or how he did it, and he’d let that slip away. And now, hearing her voice, hearing her in a song, it felt like a reminder of how badly he’d messed up.

The worst part? He missed her. He missed her in ways he couldn’t put into words. But that was stupid, right? He couldn’t just hit rewind on everything. She had moved on. She had her family, her career, her life, and he… He had Luisinha. He had the chaos of his own world that was just as messy and confusing.

But in the pit of his stomach, he knew it wasn’t the same. Nothing had been the same since Amelie.

He let out a harsh breath, trying to push all those thoughts aside. He’d chosen this. He’d chosen to move on. And now here he was, sitting in his car, in the dead of night, mourning a relationship that had ended more than a year ago. It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.

Lando stared at his phone, which now lay in his lap. He had half a mind to toss it out of the window, but something stopped him. His finger hovered over the screen again, and he saw that the album was still playing. There were more songs. More pieces of her—more words she had written, more stories she had shared. He shouldn’t listen to them. He knew that.

But he couldn’t stop himself. His thumb moved over the screen, searching for her name in the messages. He’d sent her texts before, each one a mix of drunken regrets and half-formed apologies. None of them had ever gotten through; Amelie had blocked him long ago, a decision he understood but still resented.

His mind was clouded, everything blurry and tinged with the pain of his own choices. His fingers typed out the message before he could stop them.

Lando Norris: I miss you so much. I just want you back. Just once more. I can’t shake the thought of you.

Lando Norris: Btw, congrats on the album. You’ve killed it.

His heart pounded as he read it over. It felt like too much, but at the same time, it was everything he’d been feeling for over a year. She’d moved on, he knew that. She had her family, her career. She probably didn’t think about him anymore. But Lando couldn’t escape the feeling of unfinished business. That there was something unresolved, something left unsaid.

He stared at the message for a long moment, wondering if he should send it. He knew it wouldn’t reach her, that she wouldn’t ever see it. But the idea of putting all his thoughts into words, of admitting what had happened, was more than he could bear. It felt like a small weight lifted, just letting it out.

But deep down, he knew it was stupid. Amelie had moved on. And so had he. He had Luisinha now, didn’t he? She was the one who stuck around, the one who cared, even if things weren’t as easy as they once seemed. He couldn’t keep holding on to this ghost of a past he couldn’t change.

Lando let out a breath, staring at the message one last time before he made a decision. With a deep sigh, he hit the delete button.

He didn’t send it. He couldn’t.

But as he sat there in the quiet of his car, the weight of what he’d just done didn’t feel like the end of it. The hurt lingered, thick in his chest. He didn’t know what to do next. All he knew was that nothing had ever felt as unfinished as this.

In the silence, he just sat there for a while longer, staring at his phone and wondering if he would ever be able to fully let go.

[big-urchin-energy]

Hot Water

written for @bucktommyfluffebruary prompt: spiderman kiss

read on ao3

Things were going well. They were friends, they were getting along. Platonically. Which is why when Buck's hot water was out, Tommy offered up his house for him to stay in until it was fixed. Usually he’d just have showered at work, but he’d just come off a hell of a shift and it was the start of his four-off, so he really didn’t want to have to drag himself to the station on his days off just to shower. So, he'd called Tommy, driven to Tommy’s house, used the spare key to let himself in, and then gone to bed in Tommy’s guest room. Four days later, the hot water still wasn't fixed, but Tommy lived a little closer to the 118 than Buck did anyway, so he'd offered to let him stay until it was. Except two days after that, there was a huge leak, and soon it had been two weeks since Buck had slept in his own bed. But it was fine, because he and Tommy were good. Good friends.

All of that meant that when Buck was sat on the couch, and tilted his head over the back of the it to say goodbye to Tommy before he left for his shift, and Tommy leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, it wasn’t weird. It didn’t even register until Tommy had reached his car that he’d just kissed him.

On the mouth.

Platonically?

Okay, so, it didn't have to be weird, it could be fine. Sometimes friends kiss, it doesn't have to mean anything romantic.

Yeah. It was all good.

What the fuck.

Tommy had just kissed him.

Buck had leaned his head back to wish him a good shift, and he'd just… laid one on him.

A kiss.

On his mouth.

The angle had been kind of awkward because he'd sort of been upside down, but it was unmistakably a kiss. And then Tommy had just walked right out!

Meanwhile, Buck wasn't leaving for his shift for another twelve hours, and those twelve hours lasted... so many hours.

He’d tossed and turned in Tommy’s guest bed, trying to get it out of his head for god knows how long, and when he finally did manage to sleep, his dreams were- well, they were embarrassingly Tommy-themed.

He felt like he was losing his mind – he was distracted all throughout his shift, and everyone could tell. He hated being off his game but what was he supposed to do? They were broken up! Why would Tommy do that? He was the one who broke it off in the first place! They were finally getting back to normal- or just to normal, since their original normal was them dating, and now all the feelings that Buck had had to put to bed were resurfacing. Like a whale or something.

So, Tommy had been freaking out all day.

Maybe he could pretend he never realised what had happened?

It was a weak plan, but anything was better than Buck being mad at him for- for violating his boundaries. Maybe he could make a nice meal for him, since it was really the least he could do considering how often Buck cooked for the two of them. And really, it was no wonder some wires got crossed; they’d been living together, eating together, watching TV together, it was all pretty domestic, and as much as Tommy had talked a big game, he wasn’t over Buck at all.

Maybe this whole thing was a mistake.

He settled on spaghetti, because he was not the chef in this relationship- friendship, and avoided the urge to run when he heard Buck at the door.

Alright, Kinard, play it cool.

“Hey ba- buddy,” shit, what was that? “How was your shift?”

Buck stared.

He needed to play it cooler.

“It was fine…” Buck said slowly.

“Cool! Uh, good, yeah. I’m just making some dinner,” Tommy said unnecessarily.

“I can see that,” Buck nodded. “You wanna clue me in on what the hell that was yesterday?”

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck and took a breath.

“I’m so sorry, Buck, I’m- there are no excuses, it was- I don’t know, I must have got some wires crossed somewhere, but you deserve better than my mess, just because I can’t keep my feelings in check. Your friendship is so important to me, I don’t want to lose that, or you. I hope you can forgive me, but I understand if you want to stay somewhere else now.”

Somewhere in there he’d stopped being able to look at Buck. Now he just stared at his hands, trying not to wring them together, but when Buck didn’t reply he had to look up.

“What do you mean, ‘keep your feelings in check’?” Buck frowned. “You have feelings for me? You still-?”

Tommy didn’t want to answer, but he figured there was no use lying.

“Of course I do, I think I always will,” he told him. “There’s no getting over you, Buck, I’m just happy to have you in my lmmf-”

This kiss was nothing like the last one.

It was hard, almost painful, Buck was clinging to him like his life depended on it, and both of them were the right way up this time.

Tommy gripped him back, but as quickly as it had started, Buck was pulling back again.

“Evan,” Buck breathed.

“Uh… I think that’s my line?”

Buck pursed his lips. “You’re damn right it is,” he said, but it was still gentle somehow. “I’m Evan to you; you can’t call me Buck anymore. Please don’t call me Buck anymore.”

His eyes were pleading, but how could Tommy refuse?

“Evan?”

“I want to be with you, Tommy,” Evan said softly. “And if you don’t want me, if you don’t want me back, then I’ll accept that, but I think you do. And I think we could make it work if you let it.”

It was like his chest had been cracked open.

He wanted it more than anything, and he was a weak man at heart.

“I’m scared,” Tommy told him, and couldn’t help his expression from crumpling, but Evan’s arms were around him in an instant.

“That’s okay, baby,” said Evan, sweeping a hand slowly up and down his back. “You think we could try anyway?”

Tommy didn’t think he’d ever understand how Evan got to be so brave, so confident and self-assured. He loved that about him, even if he wasn’t ready to say it any time soon. But he realised that he did want to say it.

Maybe they could try together.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I think we could try.”

[driftingballoons]

Sometimes when your parents are angry they’ll say something that gives light to their own childhood and you realize Holy Shit a) that explains it and b) that’s so sad. 

Thinking specifically about one story my mom would always proudly tell when I did something wrong about how “easy “ I have it. As a child a great grandparent was asked to get something from a drawer—specifically the bottom drawer. They went all the way upstairs, checked the drawer, couldn’t find the thing, then came back down to report to their mother. And this woman apparently hit the fucking roof. The reasoning being that the kid “didn’t think” to check the other drawers when they couldn’t find it in the first one. The kid in question was 5 years old. This is an age where if you put the same amount of water in a short wide cup and a tall thin one, they’ll say there’s more in the taller one because the level is higher. And the fact that this story was passed down from generation to generation as an example of how the child was in the wrong and as a guide on how a kid’s mistakes should be handled is infuriating and incredibly depressing. Anyway I always took it as she said until one day, after having learned a tiny bit of developmental psychology, where I took an incredibly calculated risk and said something like, “that’s really sad. A 5y/o can’t necessarily reason at that level—their brain development isn’t physically there yet. For their mom to get so irrationally mad at them because she forgot where she put something was really low. She should have been able to own up to her own mistake.” And I’ll tell you normally a comment like this would’ve got me murdered, but I don’t think she’d ever quite…thought about it that way. She went quiet and changed the subject, and since then it’s never been brought up with that same haughty “see how good you have it! People deserve to be treated like this!” energy. 

[foldingfittedsheets]

Mattresses, unbeknownst to many, are a lot like cars. Every year new ones roll out, they’re always tweaking and innovating and you’ll never find the same one you loved decades ago when buying a new one.

Where I sold mattresses had a three month return or exchange program for this reason. New beds take a while to break in, and they’re a big expense. Your body is used to the old one. So we made sure people were loving it. If a bed got returned we’d take it back, sanitize and clean it, then sell it again on clearance.

To sell these we always had to disclose what clearance meant to customers, and they had to sign that they knew what they were getting. (FYI, not every company is as… forthright about the used bed situation)

In clearance we had beds that were floor models, we had returns, and more rarely we had old models whose line had been discontinued. These clearance beds were always final sale, so a bed could only be sold twice.

Now, the manager at the store I was working at had realized a vital fact. Clearance beds in the warehouse didn’t sell, especially old models that salespeople weren’t familiar with. And even more especially in odd sizes, like twin extra longs. So he set up a split king on the showroom floor to exhibit clearance beds, pulling all those forgotten twin extra longs out onto the showroom.

Almost all of these were brand new discontinued models. Beds I’d never learned in training were exhumed to be displayed. The manufacturers had moved on to new lines and they’d been left behind. Why would he take such in interest in selling old stock, you might wonder? Because we made double commission on the sales margin of clearance beds, and if we’d had a bed long enough they dropped the cost in the system so it was a fucking cash cow to sell these. Even with huge discounts the commissions were wonderful so it was a win win.

When I got started I was jazzed about this program, I was so on board to sell weird old brand new beds and make a ton of money. I had a wonderful older couple come in, looking for a split king adjustable set. This was a white whale sale.

The current clearance models on the floor were a latex mattress that was brand new despite being of an age to start first grade, and a tempurpedic floor model. The couple laid down and it was like magic. They each loved the bed they’d laid down on. They wanted to buy the whole shebang.

I. Was. Thrilled. I told them about the clearance program and what that meant, and they weren’t bothered in the least. I wrote up the sale then dashed into the back, fizzing with excitement to tell my manager what I’d done.

“You sold the death bed?!” He asked in delight.

I pulled up short, my smile freezing in place. “What…?”

“Didn’t you check the notes?”

I hesitated for a long beat then slowly shook my head. You see, dear reader, all beds had a personal history. Every clearance bed had logs written up by the person who took the return, as well as warehouse crew after sanitizing. It helped us know what to expect when selling them. “Wasn’t it just a floor model? You said it was a floor model…”

He slowly shook his head. I checked the notes.

It turned out, it had been sold as a floor model. The first time. But the company had made an exception and taken it back as a return two months later. Why? Because it’s owner had passed away.

I stared at the computer in horror and my manager shrugged. “They signed the clearance form. Technically it was a floor model.”

“We know for a fact that a man died in that bed!”

“What they don’t know can’t haunt them,” he said philosophically.

The man came back a week later for more sheets, utterly delighted to tell me how well they were sleeping. I clamped my teeth down around the secret of the deathbed, choosing to let them love their new bed without the stigma. Only one person would be haunted by that deathbed, and it was me.