#but i still gotta support everyone else :)))
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unproduciblesmackdown · 3 months ago
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omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!
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#& [it might be 5am but i'll still see if i can draw some] trackpad homemade reacts. inhales & hands to head/face x9 then walking off#site giving pretty random Suggested assortment there where i was like oh right sure. prob not tumblr keywords captures lmaooo#(plus happened to have it open in firefox) but my god Not the scapegoated literal seers lmfao. whoooo. my god#also it was just really good anyways like right nice. damn#the (queerrr) seerrr the perceiverrr the truth tellerrr the ruinerrr the scapegoat be-errr the internalizerrr the neurodivergerrr#& now i Know there is 0% chance ppl weren't putting ''always a gay cousin or it's you (avuncular edition)'' in that thing#family tree design not even leaving space for the hypothetical kids of this relative we mostly pretend is nonexistent hmm#also that necessarily. it's giving all intents & purposes Disability abt a dozen ways & it's saying [accept that] vs [we'd better fix him]#you don't cite said [it's giving disability] as part of the We All Hate The Horrible Little Freak scapegoating justification & then be like#''actually we don't have to do that anymore b/c he's sooo normal :)'' or not if you're serious about [don't scapegoat your family] anyways#which like oh ok they Are serious so The Weirdo's scapegoating / casting out / lack of support Isn't justified#so he's still weird & you just gotta get over that b/c otherwise. bye. having a natural rat affinity is such a slay btw#& we've all been there like ''you NEVER want two scapegoats talking it's Over if they do'' + littlest kid is like um. they're the best#plankton voice Correct! inhale i'm so impressed like. getting to go ''finally someone Normal'' (serious abt letting someone Be Weird(tm))#which also always counts as like mm hard time suggesting someone's Not queer & also autistic for a start lmao. an award#adding in suggested layers like talking to oneself; talking Oddly / w difficulty; physical uncoordination; rituals ; acting; animal friend#the layer of ''& all that's fine? like?'' again rather than him ever suppressing or even changing it so far as it's suggested#besides that it's observed as Weird like but so? or else what? nonrhetorical: hostility / rescinded support & driving someone off is what?#& that Truth like the [worse treatment / exclusion / scapegoat] oft recipe for someone giving the support they're not getting themself#again Never let the [ppl both experiencing this] talk oh it's So over. or the child who's all i like family support & kindness actuallyy...#obviously also like the complete opposite of billions. knowing what they're about & letting this Just As Beloved crucial guy be So Weird#but billions Also [hmm feels right for our scapegoated guy to Perceive / Tell Truths / openly want/need & then be hurt] now get his ass#anyway [guy who could always go way on could go way on but only has thirty tags & it's 6am & i still mean to try some drawing] voice#remarkable amt of So True & ''it feels like ppl on the same page w/exactly what they're doing are all behind this''#remarkable amount of concentrated My God That Is So A Slay located in bruno all at once. what a gift#sticking to ''sometimes someone In Your Group is Weird. Disabled. deal'' firmly enough there's no ;) oh u can bet we'll Fix Him in the end#everyone always assumes the worst so....me when i'm [always as a kid yearning for Living In Secret Passages]. emile gtmpota?#oh congrats to whatever rando who will be having his dramatic gay reunion w/bruno just out of frame obviously. i perceive#now imagine if That rando was....emile gtmpota! what a crossover event. haunting4haunting. do i have enough tags for this lmao. yea#& having 1 more tag to say: as though the [endless serving] isn't enough bruno's also as close to gender envy as it gets. incl rats; sure
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bmpmp3 · 7 months ago
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dysgraphic artiƨts risɘ UP!!!!!
#raise your pencils!!!! and erasers. to fix the backwards letters 😔#sorry still thinking about my weirdness with my art professors. yknow a lot of em have been really pushing us as#students to make our personal identities a major part of like our 'brand' as artists#which. well from an art history major perspective thats a very contentious and nuanced topic. i love a lot of artists who live this way#and i think its great seeing my peers who focus on identity thrive. but also as an fine arts major (double major fool LOL)#i keep getting pushed by teachers into like. specific '____ artist' identities???#specificaly woman artist. which is a little bizarre because im a bit fat and a bit gnc so im generally like. ungendered? in day-to-day life#(which doesnt actually matter to me directly that much honestly LOL people tend to view me as like. buddy? buddy or pal.)#(not man. not woman. not anything human. sometimes i remind people of a beloved dog. which. hkdsahjk thats its own can of worms)#(a can of worms that also doesnt matter much to me directly because im a wannabe furry who chose to be the dog when playing house as a kid)#(LOL so um. well. theres that) but yeah i dunno i dont really consider myself a woman artist. its been. shockingly (and sometimes luckily?)#irrelevant to most of my life and experiences and art (although dont get me wrong misogyny is very real and very present) so i dont#have a whole lot to say about it from an art perspective. you could also call me all kinds of things. a queer artist. a mixed race artist#again technically correct. some aspects more visible in my work than others. but also very technical. i focus on race a lot in in my#art historical work but i dunno how much my drawings have to say. except that i keep making too many mixed ocs LOL#i dunno i just think my professors gotta focus that energy away from tokenizing me and over to supporting like actual#capital W Woman artists capital Q Queer artists capital A Artists of Colour who are doing far more interesting things than I#far more thought out and engaged in these topics directly. i just kind of stumble into my art blindly and confused <3#sorry that was a long tangent WHAT IM SAYING Is despite all that: i do consider myself a capital D Dysgraphic artist#i think its an unmovable constant of my art and the way i draw and the way my hands move. the untrained eye doesnt seem to be as aware#of it directly. but those who are familiar can probably see it. the dysgraphia LOL if not just from whenever i write a letter or number#half of them are busted and frantically fixed HDKJSDJDS but its in all my art. if u can see it <3 ive been trying to embrace it#dygraphic artists raise your pencils indeed!! and throw away the eraser!!! make the legibility of your words everyone elses problem!!!#what does that say? what is that sketch? none of my business! none of your business!! its the business of my hand and the pencil alone#motor skill and spatial issues take the wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel
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fourspiceblend · 2 years ago
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It's funny cause for the most part of the game, I didn't really care about people's criticisms of Engage's writing and thought they were just mad the story was straightforward and didn't try to be overly complex... But now that I'm (finally) reaching the endgame, there's a loooot of weird plotholes that 3H would be jealous of lol.
#i think that what bothers me the most is the fact that we don't know how elyos really works#because with a few exceptions the supports don't really go into it#and the paralogues focusing on the emblems and fanservice references to the older games is a huuuuuge missed opportunity#my experience has still been overall positive but the cracks are definitely showing lmao#thinking thoughts#to be fair i do love how unlike 3h we do actually get to see the four nations have their own identity and explore them after a battle#because BOY was 3H lacking in that aspect just because they wanted to sell you a red herring#but there's telling and not showing. and there's showing and not telling. and one isn't necessarily better than the other#i need a bit of both you know#3h doesn't wanna delve too much into the intricacies of each country because the second it would do so#the whole ''da church controls errything'' red herring would fall apart and the devs really don't want that#so we gotta stay in the monastery at all times and since the monastery is in the very small chunk of land the church DOES control#it helps to keep you in the dark about how things really work#even though the storytelling makes it clear the central church barely controls anything and only intervenes when ASKED#meanwhile elyos really really shows you each kingdom with detail when it comes to aesthetics and culture. which is neat!#but we know little to nothing else even though they keep hinting that the kingdoms each work differently#and we know even LESS about lythos which bothers me the most!#and none of this would bother me at all if we didn't have stuff like the brodia/elusia conflicts in the background#or the existence of a fell dragon religion. or fucking gradlon. or the many dragon races. or kagetsu being a prince#or lumera suddenly having a child and everyone going along with it etc
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steampoweredskeleton · 2 years ago
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#delete later#i keep having panic attacks and need to think of something else so here's my essay on mr magoriums wonder emporium#vs my brain#the first thing you gotta understand is that im autistic and have always felt like im not supposed to be here.#i used to talk to the moon all the time and always felt like i belonged up there with her more than i ever did in the world#the second thing you gotta understand is that i didnt hage friends for a large part of my childhood and instead found solace in reading#and making things that made me happy and felt right abd good#fhe third thing you gotta understand is ive got mad daddy issues#and the fourth is that although i thought myself very smart as a kid i was also constantly certain that i was an idiot who was#trickong everyone and that i wouldn't go anywhere#so in comes this film. one main character is a young boy who cant make any friends. who has specific interests and who makes things#one main character is a woman who was a prodigy until she ran out of hope and energy#one main character is a man who is completely seperated from what makes him happy and the wirld around him#and the last main character is a kind old man who supports them all whilst always knowimg and being at peace qith the fact#that he was different abd wasn't meant to stay#i still dont know which character i identified more with as a child. i think its probably all of them at obe point or another#but the major one was mr magorium himself. bc he made his world so it fit him. and was not ashamed of any of it.#he was completely at peace with the fact that he was different that very few pelple understood him that he was noticeably weird#and he was loved for it.#and then he died. abd not to be a downer but my childhood was filled with obsessions about how i was going to die#how much it would hurt how much blood there'd be. i think this was the first film i saw where it was so simple. it was just his time#obviously the way i thought about death was never healthy bc after those obsessions came the suicidal ideation#but this film presented it in such a neutral matter of fact way. its just a fact of life. it doesnt matter hoe prepared you are#its always hard it always hurts but it must happen anyway. after my grandma died i didnt have yhe ability at the time to process it#but this film helped. abd now when i try to make ky thoughts about death more neutral and not fear or hope based#i think about this movie. and i think about all the joy it presented in living abd accepting yourself in all your oddness#and it makes me feel a little bit sad that a place like that doesnt exist. but it also majes me a little bit happy and a little bit hopeful
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ahsokaismyqueen · 2 months ago
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Orange Juice Pairing - Tyler Owens x Female!Reader Summary - When it's time to interview a group of storm chasers for your new book, you get sent back to your hometown. You never would have guessed one of the people you'd be interviewing would be your ex boyfriend. And you might still be a little in love with him. Word Count - 13k my god I'm sorry Playlist Warnings - 18+ ONLY. Tyler Smut. Language
Everything looked the same, but somehow different. 
You hadn’t stepped foot in this town in ten years, and you were nervous as hell to be here now. This town held a lot of memories and people that you hadn’t visited in a long time. If your agent had told you where you had been going before putting you on the plane, you probably would have asked if there was somewhere else, some other storm chaser group that wasn’t based in Arkansas you could interview. She believed that she was doing a nice thing, surprising you with a trip to your hometown. 
You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it may be your hometown, but it also was home to your worst memory. 
A sigh left your lips as you pulled up to a familiar gas station, and pushing the memories out of your mind, you put the car in park. 
The Tornado Wranglers. That was the group of chasers you would be talking to. Your agent had insisted that they were the best of the best. Apparently they had a very large YouTube following, and their leader was, “charismatic and oozed charm”, according to your agent. He was also the hottest cowboy she’d ever seen. 
Those words brought a faint smile to your face, and you pulled out your phone to text her. 
Landed, and am currently waiting at the gas station. 
A few moments later, a response came through. Any sign of hot cowboys yet? 
You let out a laugh. Not yet, but I’ll keep you informed. 
Your fingers settled on the door handle. There was no reason to put this off anymore. You were here, and you were going to have to face what was out there, for better or worse. You opened the door and climbed out of your car. 
It smelled the same. The gas station had been updated to be more modern, but the faint scent of gasoline and rice from the farms remained. Walking inside, you found little had changed. There was an updated register, a few more products offered, but that was about it. When your eyes caught sight of your favorite candy, a grin spread across your face, and you found yourself reaching for them, even though you hadn’t had them in years. 
You didn’t recognize the cashier, which you were grateful for. A part of you had almost expected everyone you knew to pop out of nowhere as soon as your feet touched the ground. Now you realized how ridiculous that was. In fact, you might go this whole trip without setting eyes on a single person from before. Thanking the cashier, you made your way back outside right on time to see a large red truck turning in followed by a camper that was blaring a Tanner Adell song. You couldn’t see the driver of the truck because of the cowboy hat and sunglasses that partially obscured his face, but the guy in the passenger seat recognized you at once. “Hey! That’s her!” You could hear him say it since his window was open. 
The guy pulled to a stop, and the one in the passenger seat ran around the front of the car. His hair was dark and shoulder length, but covered with a baseball cap, and the bottom half of his face supported some facial hair. He was dressed much like you expected a tornado chaser to dress, shirt and shorts in different shades of dark green with a bandana around his neck. “Hey, I’m Boone.” He said, holding out his hand for you. “I gotta say, I’m a big fan.” He said the last part in an almost whisper, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. 
Which, considering you wrote romance books, he probably didn’t. Not the first man to say something similar to you, you nodded with a sincere smile, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. You guys are the Tornado Wranglers I’m assuming?” 
“Yeah, that’s Dexter and Dani.” He said pointing to two people that were exiting the camper behind them. “There’s Lily.” He said, pointing to a girl getting out of another car that you hadn’t even noticed. “And this is our fearless leader, Tyler.” 
At that moment, the world around you slowed down. In fact, you were pretty sure all the air was sucked out of your lungs. It couldn’t be him. Out of every person in the world you could be working with, it couldn’t be the one . . . But he took off his cowboy hat, and even though it had been ten years, he was unmistakable. You would know that face anywhere, after all, you saw it all the time in your dreams. 
For a moment, you thought he might not recognize you. It had been ten years, you’d both changed in that time, but the moment his eyes landed on you, he knew exactly who you were. He said your name, pure disbelief in his tone as he took a step forward. 
You nodded, unsure of how to respond. The two of you hadn’t left on the best of terms, but there were so many years before that. So many beautiful memories that you’d never be able to forget. Half of you wanted to run and hide, the other half (okay maybe more like three fourths) wanted to run into his arms. How could you do that though when you were the one who left? 
Tyler didn’t hesitate though. You watched as a slow grin formed on his face that turned into a bright smile, a smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat, and the next moment he was hurrying towards you. Within seconds you were wrapped up in a hug so tight your feet weren’t even on the ground anymore. 
God it felt good. You slid your arms around his neck, hugging him back just as tight, and let out a little laugh as he spun you around. Your eyes closed automatically, and you realized at that moment while you may have written about the way Tyler made you feel, it was nothing compared to the actual emotions. You remembered how his arms always felt like home, and it was no different now. They must have some sort of magic, because no matter how long it had been, they brought your mindset right back to the teenager who was crazy in love with her boyfriend. 
After what was probably too long, Tyler put you back on the ground, slowly and a little too intimately for the strangers his team thought you were. In fact, he didn’t even fully let go of you, keeping his hands on your hips. You found yourself unable to let go of him too though, your hands resting on his forearms as he stared at you in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re here.” 
“I can’t believe you’re here.” You said, squeezing his arms. “You’re a storm chaser?” It made perfect sense when you thought about it. Tyler had always had such a good instinct for weather. You couldn’t count the amount of times during school when he told you football games were going to get canceled because it was going to storm. He was never wrong. You just never expected him to quit bull riding. 
“Yeah, got a meteorology degree from U of A and everything.” Tyler said, and your breath caught in your throat. Not just because his thumbs had started stroking your hips, but because of his words too. 
Tyler had done it. He had done what you had always known he was beyond capable of doing. The shy smile on his face, the love, care, and pride you still, and always would have for him rushed to the surface. Overwhelmed with emotions from the past, you felt tears fill up your eyes as you looked at him. “I’m so proud of you, Ty.” You told him, and you meant every word. 
There was no other way to describe it. He was beaming, and god you had forgotten how beautiful that smile was. It was like the sun, almost too bright to look at. 
“I get the feeling you two know each other?” 
You had forgotten that little aspect of being with Tyler. How everything else would disappear the moment he looked into your eyes. You took a step back from him, letting go of his arms even though every part of your body wanted you to keep touching him. His hands lingered on you for a moment, but then he let go as well. “I guess you could say that.” Tyler said, “this is the girl that broke my heart ten years ago.” 
“Wait,” one of the girls, you were pretty sure it was Lily, stepped forward. “I thought that girl’s name was-”
They knew your name. Tyler had talked about you enough that they knew who you were. “That is my name. My writing name is a pseudonym.” You admitted. Heat rushed to your skin, but there was no malice in Tyler’s voice or face. He was just looking at you with a fond smile, as if lost in the same memories you found swirling around in your mind. 
“So, you’re a big time writer now, huh? You always did tell the best stories.” Tyler said. 
“Man, you should read them. In fact, now that I think about it, one of the main guys kinda reminds me of-” Boone started to say, but you cut him off. 
There was no way you were ready for that conversation. “So, um, where did you guys want to talk?” You spoke up, trying to change the subject as subtly as you could. 
The look Tyler gave you said he saw right through your bullshit, but he didn’t comment on it, just grinned mischievously at you. “How about Frankie’s?” 
Of course he would suggest Frankie’s. It was the bar that the two of you used to go to all the time after rodeos. There were a lot of memories of playing pool, laughing with friends and dancing to whatever band was playing there. While you weren’t sure you were ready for all those memories to hit again, the draw of going back there with Tyler was too much. “Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll meet you guys- ”
“No need for that. You can ride with me.” Tyler said, patting the large red truck. 
Being in an enclosed space with your ex boyfriend definitely didn’t seem like a good idea. “Oh, that’s not-”
“It’s really cool. You’ll want to take a peek. He customized it all himself and everything. This baby can drive straight into a tornado.” Boone said while Tyler continued to grin at you. 
“Research is what you’re here for right?” Tyler asked you. 
Yes. That was a good reminder for yourself. You were here to learn about the essentials of storm chasing for your next book, not to spend all your time thinking about how good Tyler looked after ten years. “Right,” you agreed, and then watched as Tyler walked all the way over to the passenger seat and held it open for you. 
“Well, in that case, right this way ma’am.” 
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To your slight surprise, Tyler kept everything professional in the truck. He showed you all the features, and you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by it all. It was impressive, not only what he had thought of, but had attached himself. “Is this normal? I mean do a lot of storm chasers have vehicles they’ve rigged up?” 
“Nothing like this.” He said with pride in his voice as he grinned over at you. “I spent years putting this thing together.” 
“When you do something, you always go big.” You teased, smirking at him. “Remember that time in high school when we just wanted to fill the principal's office with ducks, and instead you said we should fill the whole school?” 
Tyler scoffed. “Of course I do. I got a month of detention for that because Belinda ratted me out.” 
“You did stand her up for a date.” You reminded him. 
“Yeah well,” Tyler glanced over at you again. “You needed me.” 
Your cheeks heated as the memories of that night flooded your mind. It hadn’t been long after your Dad had passed. You had gotten stupid drunk at a party that he hadn’t wanted to go to. You had been walking home, stumbling home really, when a familiar truck pulled up beside you. It turned out that Tyler had been waiting nearby for at least an hour after feeling like something was off. 
He held you in his arms in that truck for hours while you cried, letting out emotions you’d been holding back for months. Then he took you home and snuck into your bedroom to hold you some more. The next morning you told him you didn’t want to be just friends anymore. He told you he hadn’t wanted to be just friends for a long time. 
The two of you were inseparable from that moment until the day you left. Almost as if he could sense where your mind was, a palpable tension filled the truck. 
You weren’t ready to talk about it though. 
Thankfully you were saved from any further discussion as your phone went off with a text. It was from your agent, checking in again. 
“Boyfriend?” Tyler asked. 
You shot him a look, trying to bite back a smile. “That’s not very subtle of you.” 
He sent you a look right back. “Wasn’t trying to be.” 
“Agent.” You answered, choosing to ignore his response. “Who I now have to awkwardly tell that the ‘hottest cowboy she’s ever seen’ is actually my ex-boyfriend.” 
“So you really had no idea?” Tyler asked. 
You shook your head. “Not a clue. I didn’t even know where I was going until I got to the airport and she sent my travel information.” 
“Gotta say . . . I’m surprised. I never thought you’d step foot in the town again.” He said, pulling into the small parking lot. 
Glancing up at the building, you bit your bottom lip. “I wasn’t sure I would either.” 
Frankie’s was exactly what you would picture when you hear the words, “small town bar”, but as soon as you walked in, you couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity. It was big for a small town bar, featuring bars on both sides of the room, plenty of tables, as well as a couple of pool tables, and a stage with a small dancing space in front of it. Most of the furniture was wooden and looking a little rough, but they kept the lighting dim enough that it wasn’t very noticeable. There weren’t a whole lot of people, but there was no band playing, and it was a weekday night. It put you a little more at ease. 
“This place hasn’t changed a bit.” You said, looking around. 
Tyler shook his head in agreement. “That’s why I love it so much. Feel like I’m right back into my early twenties when I walk back in here.” 
“That was a long time ago for you.” You teased. 
He clutched his chest, scrunching his eyes at you and giving you a wounded look, but there was a playful edge to it. “Ouch. So you do still have some bite to you.” 
You smirked at him. “You bring it out in me.” 
Tyler’s frown turned to a grin as he placed his hand on the small of your back, sending chills down your spine. “Let’s grab a booth for everybody.” 
The next several hours consisted of you asking the Tornado Wranglers crew every question you wrote down as well as thought of. They not only answered honestly, but never talked down to you like you were stupid for not knowing something either. You loved the relationship that they clearly had with each other. They treated each other like family, with their own strengths and weaknesses that the other members of the team either supported or built upon. You knew immediately it was something you were going to want to include in your book. Not only that, but they were hilarious, and since they knew who you were, they seemed to be ribbing Tyler extra hard. 
“All right, you know damn well that was an accident.” Tyler said, pointing a finger at Dexter who was laughing hysterically along with the rest of the table. 
“I don’t know, it doesn’t sound like an accident to me Tyler.” You said, raising your eyebrows at the man sitting next to you. 
Tyler narrowed his eyes at you and bumped your knee with his under the table. “Now don’t you start.” 
“Hey, don’t be rude to our guest.” Dani said. 
“Too late for that. He hasn’t even gotten her a drink yet.” Lily spoke up, shaking her head at him in disappointment. 
“Oh, you don’t have to-”
Tyler shook his head. “No, they’re right.” He started sliding out of the booth. His hand reached up and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ve got you.” 
“I notice he didn’t ask you what you wanted to drink.” Dexter said with a little grin after Tyler made his way to the bar. 
You bit your bottom lip. You hoped he remembered. “We’ve known each other a long time.” 
“Okay, now that he’s gone.” Boone leaned forward, putting his hands on the table. “One Last Rodeo. Theo. He’s based on Tyler isn’t he?” 
Heat rushed to your face. So Boone definitely had read your books. Looking back on it, it was pretty obvious that your first book had been based on Tyler. You were heartbroken, and trying to find a way to get it out on the page. The book was your way of coping with your breakup and how you wished it would have ended instead of the way that it did. By the time someone wanted to actually publish it, you realized how obvious the similarities were, and it was one of the reasons you wanted to write under a fake name. Since Boone had read your book, and now knew that Tyler was your ex . . . It couldn’t have been hard to put together. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it outloud. “A writer never tells her secrets.” You said. 
They were all grinning at you though. “Oh, look how flushed her face is.” Dani said. 
“It’s definitely about him.” Lily said. 
You opened your mouth to deny it, even though it seemed pointless, but before you could you were interrupted. “Here you go,” he said, sliding back into the booth and putting a glass filled with an orange drink in front of you. 
“What is that?” Boone asked, “some kind of tropical-”
“Orange juice.” You answered, smiling over at Tyler. “You did remember.” 
Tyler gave you a look of disbelief, like he was insulted. “Of course I did.” When he saw the confused looks of his friends he explained, “she doesn’t drink.” 
“Twelve years sober.” You said. “Not something I’m against anyone else doing, it’s just not for me.” Tyler slung his arm over the back side of the booth closest to you, and you had to fight the immediate urge to lean back into his embrace. The rest of the team was smirking at you, and you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. “So I’ve just got one more question for you guys.” You said trying to change the subject. 
“Fire away.” Dani said. 
“Why do you guys do it?” That was what you really wanted to know. “I grew up here. I know how dangerous, how scary these things can be. Why do you guys willingly risk your life for something that seems to have no real reward?” 
There was silence around the table for a moment, and you made sure to avoid Tyler’s face. When you had written these questions, you had no clue he was one of the ones you’d be asking, and this question hit a little too close to the reason for your breakup. You didn’t think you could look at him if he answered. 
“We like to help.” Lily said. “That’s a factor. We sell these shirts, and we use the money to get people stuff like food and water.” 
“Then there’s just the beauty of it. Yes, it’s dangerous and destructive, but there’s also something incredible about it as well. There’s so many factors to tornados we don’t understand. Seeing them come together in person is . . . Indescribable.” Dexter added, while they all nodded their heads in agreement. 
“There’s the adrenaline too.” Boone spoke up with a grin. “I’ve never felt more alive than when we’re chasing.” 
Your body tensed at his words, memories of your last argument with Tyler trying to invade your mind. Once again, you felt sure he could sense what you were thinking as you felt his gaze on the side of your face. 
“It’s hard to put into words without actually seeing it.” Tyler said. “You should come on a chase.” 
That made you look at him, your eyes wide in shock that he would even suggest it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 
“Why not?” Tyler leaned towards you. “Scared?” He asked with a smirk. 
“Yes.” You answered honestly. 
“Ah, you’d be perfectly safe with Tyler. He’s got a knack for these things.” Boone said, and you looked over at him to find him grinning at the two of you. “You’d barely be in any danger at all.” 
You didn’t doubt that, but heading straight into something that could be so destructive had never been your thing. Hell, you hadn’t even gotten on a horse until Tyler talked you into it. “Still, any danger is too much danger for me.” 
Tyler shrugged. “The offer is there if you change your mind.” Tyler said, and you knew him well enough to see the flash of disappointment on his face. 
Weirdly, you felt a little disappointed in yourself too. 
————————
For the past hour, you’d been pacing around your motel room. Tyler had driven you back to your car, then followed you to the motel that funnily enough, him and the rest of the Wranglers were staying at as well. It was the only motel in your hometown, but knowing that Tyler was a few doors down from you made you anxious. 
God, seeing him again had been your worst nightmare and best daydream all rolled into one. It was so easy to think that after ten years you were over someone. Then you see them again, and everything comes flooding back. All the beautiful memories and all the mistakes you wish you could take back, and there were a lot of mistakes you wished you could take back with Tyler. You’d never loved anyone the way you loved him, and you didn’t think you ever would. Seeing him again had reminded you of that. 
Letting out a sad sigh, you sat down on your bed. Then there was Tyler’s invitation and disappointment. You hated disappointing him almost as much as you hated disappointing yourself. It had taken several years of therapy and hard work to not be so scared of ending up with the same fate as your father. You had grown though. You had learned about yourself and the things that caused those reactions. While getting close to a tornado was definitely dangerous, you knew that Tyler would take care of you. You also knew that you didn’t want to miss out on any more experiences in your life because you were afraid. 
You stood up, not allowing yourself another moment to try and talk yourself out of it, and left your room, knocking at the one three doors down. 
Tyler answered, clad in his white t-shirt and jeans, and smiled when he realized it was you. “Hey, what’s up?” 
Good lord was there ever a moment when this man didn’t look incredible? You swallowed, then nodded. “I changed my mind.” 
He leaned against the doorway, eyebrows raised in confusion. “About what?” 
You took a deep breath. “I wanna go on a chase.”
Tyler beamed. 
————————
It took three days for a storm to come through that Tyler felt good about. They had done some chasing in that time, but Tyler hadn’t brought you along because he said they hadn’t been the “right one”. The wait made you anxious, but you trusted Tyler’s instincts, and every night they were back at the motel ready to tell you about their day. You thought that they might eventually get bored of all your questions, but they were not only great, but amazing storytellers as well. You could see why their YouTube channel was so popular. 
Not that you spent a whole day watching it while they were gone or anything. 
Finally though, the day arrived and you found yourself standing outside by Tyler’s truck waiting for the team to join you, your heart pumping a little faster than normal. “Morning!” A voice called, pulling your attention away from inspecting Tyler’s truck again, and you saw the man in question heading towards you with a paper sack in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. “Haven’t talked yourself out of this yet?” 
You shook your head. “Nope. I’m doing this.” You smiled as Tyler handed you the coffee and bag. “Did you seriously get-?”
“Your breakfast sandwich and coffee? Yes, you need fuel for the road.” Tyler used his now free hands to open the door for you. “Hop on in, and let’s get going.” 
“Wait,” you said, glancing around. “Is everyone else meeting us there?” 
Tyler leaned against the door, and you watched as he looked at the sky behind you, then turned his gaze back to you. “Nah, I gave them the day off. I didn’t want you to have to deal with pressure from them if we get there and you decide not to do this.” 
You bit your lip. He was always so thoughtful. Back when he knew you, he would have had to drag you to this truck kicking and screaming, which he never would, and the fact that he wanted to save you some embarrassment in case you decided not to do this was just like him. Unable to help yourself, you reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “Thank you.” You said sincerely. 
“Well,” you inhaled sharply as Tyler took a little step closer to you. “I’ve got to admit, getting you alone for the day also played a factor.” 
Your eyes widened and a shy smile formed on your face even while your mind was spinning. Over the past few days there had been brief moments where you thought Tyler might have been flirting with you, but you talked yourself out of it. Now though . . . Was there actually a chance this man still wanted you? He couldn’t. Not after how you had treated him. It didn’t make sense. “You might end up regretting that, you know?” You told him. 
Tyler reached up, and your whole body froze as he brushed some hair behind your ear. “I’ve never regretted a moment I’ve been with you.” 
His response took the breath from your lungs. “Ty . . .” You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was beating so fast it hurt. How could he possibly not regret that night? The night that you broke his heart? 
“I’ve missed you calling me that, you know?” He smiled at you, and then took a step back. “Come on, let’s get going.” 
Once again, you wanted to say something, but what? Nothing sounded right in your mind. So instead you hopped up in the truck and watched as he closed the door behind you. 
————————
“Can I be honest?” You asked him several hours later. 
“I didn’t realize you ever weren’t.” Tyler joked, sending you a smirk. 
You swatted at him playfully. “I didn’t expect all the waiting. What happens if nothing comes?” 
“Oh, something’s gonna happen.” He insisted, looking at some clouds in the distance. “Don’t you have any faith in me?” 
While he was kidding, you didn’t stop the serious words that slipped past your lips. “You know I have all the faith in the world in you.” 
Ty’s smile turned from something joking to something genuine. “Even after all these years?” 
You smiled at him. “It never stopped. I always knew you were destined for great things.” You admitted, and it was the truth. In fact, you’d never been more sure of anything in your life. 
“Just not riding on the back of a bull.” He replied, and though he winked at you, the mention of one of the reasons from your breakup filled the air with tension. 
Then the question that you had been dying to ask since you first saw him burst from your lips. “Why did you quit?” 
Tyler looked at you then, and you knew that look well. He was reading your expression, your eyes, your body language. He’d always been able to tell what you were thinking simply by looking at you, and this time was no different. “It wasn’t because of you.” He said, reaching over to place his hand on top of yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I mean, you were part of the reason, but it was more about me realizing you were right, and I could do more with my life.” 
He knew you had been carrying that guilt of wondering if you were the reason he quit something that he had loved so much. He told you that you weren’t, but you still frowned, looking out at the darkening sky miles away. “I wish I’d said it differently.” 
There was silence for a moment as you two watched the storm, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt more reflective, and your thoughts were only confirmed when he spoke up. “Do you ever wonder where we’d be now? If you’d stayed?” 
If only he knew . . . “I guess that depends.” You bumped your shoulder against his. “Would you have proposed by now?” You teased, but a part of you wanted to know the answer. 
Tyler grinned at you, an adoring look on his face. “Oh definitely.” 
A flush heated up your face as a pleased smile fell on your lips. “Then I guess we’d be married and driving each other crazy.” 
“Not to mention being driven crazy by the kids.” Tyler added. 
You let out a laugh. “After ten years, you still want three kids?” 
“Three is a good number.” He defended. 
You rolled your eyes. “You know I have this friend now. She just had her fourth. Going over to her house almost makes me not want any at all.” 
“That’s because she has four. Three, perfect number.” Tyler said, holding up three fingers. “Four?” He added a finger. “Now that’s just asking for trouble.” 
“Especially if they were your kids.” You added, grinning over at him. 
“Ah, we could handle them.” Tyler said with a wink in your direction. 
A vision formed in your mind of what he was describing. Three kids, all of varying ages, but in your mind it was two boys and one girl. The boys would be almost an exact copy of Tyler, blonde hair and blue-green eyes, dimples and charming smiles. Troublemakers, but also sweethearts who cared deeply and loved life to the fullest. Then the little girl. She definitely had a majority of your features but with Tyler’s smile. She would have Tyler so wrapped around her finger it would almost be embarrassing. Then there’d be Tyler and you, watching all the craziness unfold from your back porch with a glass of sweet tea in your hands. You were happy. You were loved, and you were home. 
At that moment, you realized you never wanted anything so badly in your life. You wanted it so badly your chest literally ached with it. Looking over at Tyler made it hurt worse. You thought being away from him would make the love you had fade, but it turned out, the opposite had occurred. In fact, seeing him watch the sky with a content smile and talking about what could have been made you realize you loved him more now. You had loved him in high school, you’d loved him in his early twenties, but this was different. You were different and so was he. 
The question was . . . Would he take you back if you tried? You knew you didn’t deserve it. You were the reason the two of you broke up. If you were in his shoes, you didn’t think you could forgive yourself. Tyler had always been a better person than you though. 
Was it worth a shot trying? 
“Hey,” Tyler pulled you out of your thoughts, lifting your hand and pointing it to something in the distance. “Do you see those clouds?” 
You looked out to where he was pointing your hand and frowned. Those definitely looked dark, and they were . . . “Are those spinning?” 
“That’s the updraft, and it’s cycling.” He told you. 
“And that means . . .”
“That means-” Tyler stood up, put his baseball cap back on his head, and held out his hand to help you off the bed of his truck. “We’ve got a winner.” 
————————
You were going to throw up. At least it felt like you were. Not five minutes after you guys reached the storm did a tornado touchdown. Tyler said it was rated for an EF1, so it would be safe to drive into. Well, as safe as driving into a tornado could be. As fast as your heart was pounding, and as sick as you felt you might be, you leaned forward to get a better look out the window. You couldn’t deny the beauty in it. “I’ve never seen something so amazing and scary at the same time.” You admitted. 
“It’s incredible isn’t it?” 
As nervous as you were, the look on Tyler’s face made you smile. God you hadn’t seen him this excited since he had been on the back of a bull. “It is. Especially when it doesn’t look like it’s going to kill me.” 
Tyler laughed, and he pulled to a stop. “Nah, this is just an EF 1. This and the truck are going to keep you completely safe.” Tyler said, reaching to tug at the harness he had secured so tightly to your body that you felt like you couldn’t take a deep breath. 
As you watched the tornado race forward, you felt your heart rate start to kick back up and took a deep breath. “And you too right?” You asked, biting your bottom lip. 
He parked the truck and faced you, a rare serious expression crossing his face. “You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” 
At that moment, you realized you did. Tyler would never willingly put you in danger. He cared about you too much. If he said it was safe, it was. “I do.” You agreed, taking a deep breath, well, as much as you could in this harness. “Let’s do this.” 
The grin came back to his face full force as he started pressing buttons on his truck, anchoring it down into the ground as the tornado got closer and closer. “You’re gonna love this.” 
”Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Even though you knew you were safe, there was nothing quite like a tornado heading straight towards you while you’re stuck in place. “Tyler . . . This is crazy.” 
It was getting closer and closer. Only yards away, and your heart was pounding harder and harder in your chest. You didn’t even think. Your hand reached for his, gripping it tightly as the tornado hit the truck. 
Tyler gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, “look up.” He called over the wind, and you did as he asked, leaning towards your side of the car to see out the window. 
It was the most incredible thing you’d ever seen. You could see all the way up the funnel to the clouds above as the vortex passed over you. You’d never seen anything like it in your life, and a laugh of disbelief left your lips as you watched it pass over you. When it was done you looked over at Tyler, shock all over your face. “Was that real? Did that actually just happen? Did I just see inside a damn tornado?!” 
Letting out a chuckle at your questions, Tyler nodded. “You sure as hell did.” 
You let out another laugh yourself and started unbuckling all of your straps. You needed one last look to convince yourself that you had done it. Once you were free, you hopped out of the truck, running around the back to watch it keep going through the field behind you. You heard the truck door close again, but you didn’t turn around, still mesmerized, until you felt Tyler’s hand on your shoulder. 
“So, how do you feel?” He asked. 
His question was loaded for so many reasons. Years ago, he never would have gotten you close enough to even see a tornado, much less let it speed over you. You were so proud of yourself for doing this, but also sad. How many other life experiences had you missed because of how your father’s life choices had traumatized you? There was no good way to answer his question, so you just did what you wanted to. You jumped up, latching your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist. 
Of course he caught you easily, laughing as he spun you around and held you close. One of his hands rested on your back, while the other cradled your head against his shoulder. After a moment, he let out a content sigh. “I’m so proud of you.” 
You clutched tighter to him. He had no idea how much those words meant coming from him. Tyler had seen you at your absolute worst, when you had no one but him. You had clung to him then, leaning on him more than was healthy until you knew that you couldn’t anymore. It made you want to cry, knowing how far you had come and that Tyler could see it. You pulled back to look at him so he could see your watery smile too. “I’m proud of myself.” 
The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults as he looked at you. His fingers tightened in your hair, and you felt his arm muscles tense against your back. There was tension in the air, no doubt about it, and you found your eyes drawn to those familiar soft lips. You wanted to kiss him. A part of you wondered if it would be the same, or even better because you both were older. You weren’t sure, but either way, you wanted to find out. When you saw his eyes glance at your lips too, you knew he was thinking the same thing. Unable to help yourself, you let your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling yourself the slightest bit closer to him until your noses were brushing. 
Then his phone rang. 
Whatever spell the two of you had been under broke. Tyler slowly let you down to the ground, but reached for your hand, tangling your fingers with his and keeping you close. “Hey, Boone, what’s up?” 
You glanced down at your hands with a soft smile. Tyler’s hands were big and calloused from work and bulls, but they felt nice. You brushed your thumb on the outside of his palm, and he gave your hand a squeeze. 
“Yeah, we got one. She handled it like a pro.” Tyler told him, grinning over at you. There was a bit of silence for a moment as the phone conversation continued. “Let me ask her, and I’ll let you know? All right, sounds good. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and tugged you a little closer again. “Feel like celebrating seeing inside your first tornado?” Tyler asked. 
————————
Three hours later you found yourself in new clothes, freshly showered, line dancing between Dani and Boone. You were almost crying from laughing so hard, and your face hurt from smiling so much. It blew your mind that two weeks ago you were sitting in your apartment in South Carolina feeling alone and stuck with writer's block. Now you were back in your hometown, having a blast, writing faster than you had in years, and desperate to get back together with the man who was watching you from the booth, an adorable smile on his face. Feeling a little bold after your almost kiss, you sent him a wink as Boone spun you around, causing his smile to widen. 
“You guys are disgustingly cute.” Dani said as the song slowed down and the three of you started to exit the floor. 
Heat rushed to your face, and you found yourself asking the question you’d been wanting to ask for days. “Why have you guys been so nice to me anyway? Tyler’s your best friend, and I’m his ex. I broke his heart, but you’ve been nothing but kind to me since the start.” 
Boone and Dani exchanged a look. “Yeah, you’re right. If it had been another one of Tyler’s exes we probably would hate you.” Boone said, shrugging his shoulders. 
“But you were the one who got away for Tyler, and he’s never said anything but great things about you. Plus,” Dani reached out and patted your shoulder. “It's kinda obvious the two of you are still in love with each other.” 
The words hit you like a truck, and then you felt stupid for not realizing it before. You looked at the man sitting at the booth again. This time he was talking to Dexter, his expression animated, and his hands moving wildly with his words. Of course you still loved him. You never stopped. You buried it, hid from it so you could try to better yourself. When you left, you knew you weren’t good enough for him, you probably still weren’t, but now you knew you could love him like you were supposed to. If he was open to it. Boone and Dani made it seem like he was. He had given you signs that he was at least interested . . . The only question was how could you show him that you wanted it too? 
An idea hit, and a small smile formed on your face. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute okay?” You said to their confused faces and headed to the DJ stand. You gave him twenty bucks, which he gladly took, and promised your song would be next. By the time you’d made it back to the booth where everyone was seated, Never Leave by Bailey Zimmerman was playing. 
You approached Tyler, who was looking at you curiously as you held your hand out to him. “Dance with me?” You said, biting your bottom lip. 
A surprised, but happy smile formed on his face. “Yes ma’am.” 
It was not your and Tyler’s first dance. Probably wasn’t even your hundredth, and dancing with him was as effortless as remembering how to ride a bike. One of his hands rested on the small of your back while the other took yours. You placed your hand on his bicep, giving his arm a squeeze. You didn’t want to say anything. The lyrics of the song could do all the talking for you. Tyler led you around the floor with ease, and as the song went on, you could see the moment the words started to sink in. He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against yours,  and he whispered your name so reverently it made you close your eyes.
“Just listen,” you said softly, tightening your grip on his hand, letting the song say the words you wanted to. Tyler’s arm pulled you even closer until it was almost hard to dance, your bodies pressed against each other. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it against his chest, but you didn’t care anymore. You were laying it all out there now. 
As the song ended, you felt Tyler’s lips against your forehead, soft and lingering. Warmth exploded throughout your body, and you pulled back to look up at him. 
“Come back to the hotel with me?” You asked, your thumb caressing his arm, almost pleading with your voice. 
Tyler’s hand reached up to cup your cheek, and you immediately leaned into his touch, your whole body craving it. “Are you sure?” He asked. 
You nodded. There was nothing you were more sure about right now.
He took a step back from you, grabbing your hand and tugging you back to the booth where everybody else was sitting with knowing eyes. He told them that the two of you were leaving. You tried to ignore them, but you couldn’t help but grin when you saw them giving you a thumbs up or silently cheering as Tyler had his back turned. 
The ride was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was more filled with tension, and the two of you kept glancing at each other and smiling. He never let go of your hand either until he parked at the motel and came around to open your door. Before you could get down though, he stopped you. “This is what you want right? I don’t want to misinterpret what I think is happening here or pressure you in any way-”
You placed your hands on his face and leaned closer, interrupting him with your first kiss in ten years. 
For a moment, he didn’t respond. It was clear you had surprised him, but then his hands gripped your hips, and he was kissing you back. 
It was even better than you remembered. It had been good back in late high school and your early twenties, there was no doubt about it. Something about now was different though. Maybe it was because you were older, maybe it was because it had been so long, or maybe it was because you felt healed. Whatever it was, kissing Tyler now blew every kiss you’d had before out of the water. 
It was a short kiss, chaste, just to reassure him that you did want him, but when you pulled away the two of you were still breathless. “Am I crazy or was that incredible?” You asked, your hands sliding down his face to his chest. 
Tyler laughed, but nodded, his own hands dragging down your thighs and resting on your knees. “It was,” he replied, but then a smirk fell on his lips, “but we can do better.” 
Not one minute later, you were trying to open the door to your room, Tyler’s large hand low on your stomach as his lips left soft kisses on your neck from behind. You could barely concentrate as heat pooled where his hand rested, and you could not get the key in the door as he kissed a certain spot on your neck. “Ty,” you said through an exasperated laugh. “If you keep doing that I’ll never get us in this room.”
He took the key from your hand, but didn’t stop kissing your neck. You closed your eyes in pleasure as he did, letting him take over the door situation, and in a frustratingly short amount of time, you heard the door knob turn. Your eyes snapped open, turning in Tyler’s arms to find him smirking at you again. 
“How the hell did you do that so easily?” You asked, weaving your arms around his neck as he carefully backed you into the room. 
He shrugged, shutting the door behind him. “Guess you were just too distracted to focus.” 
You playfully glared at him, “I was not-” but you let out a gasp as he suddenly spun you around, pinning you to the door with his body. 
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just smiling at you as his hands rested on your hips, his thumbs brushing under your shirt to touch heated skin. “You were, but it’s okay. I liked it.” 
Well he had certainly become more confident in the years apart. Not that he ever wasn’t, but you could definitely tell a difference. However, you had gained a little bit of confidence too, and you smirked at him. “Oh, I can tell.” You replied, pushing your hips forward to press against the hardness you felt. 
Tyler bit his lip at your movements, his hands gripping your hips harder. “We don’t have to do anything. I want you to know that.” 
It drove you crazy, how he could go from being sexy and confident to sweet and respectful within a minute. You slid your arms up his chest and around his neck, tugging his head down to yours. “I want to.” You told him. “Do you?”
He let out a breathless chuckle, “You have no idea how badly I want to.” Tyler said, “I’ve wanted to since the moment I saw you at that gas station.” He told you, his nose brushing against yours. 
Tyler had been wanting to get together with you for that long? Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest, and you let out a sigh as his warm hand slipped up the back of your shirt pressing you against him. “You know, I don’t look the same as I did ten years ago.” You admitted, a little bit of insecurity leaking out as you thought about the last time the two of you were together. 
He shook his head, and his hands left a trail of heat as they slid down your back to grip your thighs. “You look better.” 
Your hands slipped into his soft hair. “Now, I know that’s not true.” 
You let out a nose of surprise as Tyler used his grip on your thighs to lift you into the air with his body, smirking up at you. “I think you’re forgetting . . .” His lips found a spot on your neck that he had always kissed, a spot that made chills explode over your body and made a soft moan leave your lips. “I know this body better than anyone.” He whispered in your ear. 
Tyler was right. He had been with you more than anyone else, seen every part of you bare. So what if you didn’t look the same as you did in high school. You were sure he didn’t either. Based on what you felt against your body though, you didn’t think that was a bad thing. You let your hands trail from his hair down his neck and to his chest, noting how his body flexed under your touch. “I think I might need a refresher on yours.” You teased, biting your lip as you played with the buttons on his shirt. 
He raised his eyebrows, a smirk on his lips. “Oh, is that what you need?” 
With fingers that were much steadier than what you felt, you unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons from his shirt. It wasn’t much, but enough to slip your hands into and touch his heated skin. It was the first time you had touched him, really touched him, in so long, and it made you ache for so much more. You pressed your forehead against his, “Right now I need everything you’re willing to give me.” You admitted honestly. 
“Well then,” Tyler’s hands slid down to your ass, holding you close as he started carrying you to the bed. “It’s a good thing I’m willing to give you everything.” He said as he placed you gently on the bed. 
His words made your heart stop for a second and a huge swell of affection for him filled your heart. You wanted to tell him that you still loved him then. That you wanted to give him everything too. The words wouldn’t come though. Not yet anyway. 
So instead, you tried to say them with a kiss. You sat up, grabbing his face in your hands, and tugged him down to meet your lips. The first time you had surprised him, and it took him a moment to respond. That was not the case this time. He kissed you back at once, moving your lips in a dance the two of you knew well. While the first kiss had been sweet, this one was full of passion and tenderness. You let out a little sigh when his lips parted and attempted to pull him closer. It had been so long since you had gotten to really touch him, and you didn’t want to waste another second not doing it. 
He complied, climbing into the bed on top of you, settling between your thighs and letting out a strangled groan as you pushed your hips up into him. He pressed his own against yours and you let out your own moan at the delicious friction. 
The sound made him pull away however, and you frowned, since that was the opposite of what you wanted right now. You watched him as he sat up, his gaze traveling over your body with such intensity you could feel your face heating up. Tyler’s hands rested on your stomach finally, tugging up your tank top so slowly it made you want to just yank it off yourself so his hands could be all over you. Waiting turned out to be worth it though, because as soon as your shirt was off, he started kissing down your neck. Your eyes closed as his lips went lower, and you arched your chest against his mouth as he got closer to one of the spots you wanted his mouth the most. 
“Have you been with other guys?” 
That made your eyes snap open. Those were not the words you expected to come out of his mouth when he was about two seconds away from putting his mouth around you. “W-What?” You said breathlessly. 
But he didn’t seem upset or anything, just genuinely curious. In fact he was grinning at you, his hands resting on your bare hips. “It’s been ten years. You have, right?” 
“Is now really the time for the, ‘how many people have you slept with since me?’ conversation?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 
Tyler leaned down, pressing his lower body against yours again as his lips hovered over yours. “I don’t care about the number.” He said, shaking his head. “I just want you to know I’m about to kiss the memory of anyone else from your body.” 
His words took your breath from your lungs, but you tried not to let him see how much they affected you. Your arms slipped around his neck, fingers sliding into his hair. “You’re talking a lot of game for someone who hasn’t initiated a single kiss.” You teased. 
He chuckled,close enough that his lips brushed yours for the briefest moment. “Isn’t it better if you have to wait for it?” 
A soft smile fell on your face then as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Ty, you haven’t kissed me in ten years. Haven’t we waited long enough?” 
He leaned back so he could look at your face, smiling at the look you were giving him. “Yeah. I think we have.” 
Finally, he leaned forward and kissed you, setting your whole body on fire with the intensity of it. Your lips parted almost immediately, and his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring you thoroughly. His hands did the same, heat trailing after them everywhere he touched. 
You knew then, as the two of you kissed and your body, and heart, felt close to combustion, that this was it for you. You had been with other men in your time apart, and none of them had ever come close to making you feel like this. Back when you and Tyler had first started dating, you thought he might have been the one, but now you were sure. So no matter what happened tomorrow, or even after that, you knew that Tyler Owens was going to be it for you. 
To your shock and surprise, you didn’t find that scary at all. 
A breathless sigh left your lips as he slowly pulled away, and he smiled down at you, brushing some hair out of your face. “God you’re beautiful.” 
You had always remembered what he was like in bed, how sweet he could be, but hearing it again was a different story. He had always made you feel so comfortable and sexy, you were so glad to know that none of that had changed. “I missed you.” You blurted out, heat rushing to your face at the confession. 
But his smile just widened, leaning down to press a kiss against your jaw. “You’ve got no idea . . .” He started kissing down your neck again. “How much I’ve missed you,” he said, and you couldn’t help but squirm a little as he kissed down your stomach, your breath coming a little faster as his kisses got lower and lower. Your hands tangled into his hair, biting your bottom lip and arching up into his hand as he started unbuttoning your jeans. 
You lifted your hips as he slid your jeans and underwear down the rest of your body, casting them aside somewhere in the room. You didn’t really care where. Tyler kissed back up your body, pausing for a moment on your bra, the last article of clothing you were wearing. After giving him an encouraging nod, he unclasped it, tossing it somewhere too, leaving you completely naked. 
He stared at you, and you felt heat following everywhere his gaze went. His gaze didn’t make you uncomfortable though, it made you feel . . . Desirable. While his eyes looked you over, your eyes watched his face, biting your lip as your hands slid up and down his arms. “You know you’re wearing too many clothes.” 
Tyler grinned down at you. “You wanna help with that?” 
You sat up then, returning his smile. “I would love to.” You took your time, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and taking in every bit of skin that was revealed. Tyler had been fit when the two of you were dating, but now? He looked like he’d come straight out of a magazine. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, you let your hands trail down his chest as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his neck. You felt his whole body relax as your hands slid back up his hard muscles to push his shirt off him, and you trailed your lips across his shoulder and down his arm. 
As soon as his shirt was off him, you made your way back up his arm, pressing gentle kisses every few inches until you reached his face again. He was smiling at you, and you couldn’t help but press a peck against his lips, then another until he had his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you against his warm chest. Letting out a sigh, you kept your forehead against his for a second, soaking the moment in. 
“I never thought we’d be here again.” Tyler said, shaking his head as his hand dragged up and down your bare back. 
“Me either.” You admitted, letting one of your hands comb through his soft blonde hair, “but I’m glad we are.” 
Tyler didn’t say anything, but leaned forward to meet you in a kiss that said everything he needed to. It told you how much he missed you, the familiarity of his lips moving in rhythm with yours. It told you how badly he wanted you when his tongue slipped into your mouth to caress your own. Then his lips weren’t the only thing showing how much he cared as he gently laid you down on the bed, never letting your lips disconnect. 
It was illogical, but you hoped his lips never left you again. You were drowning, no, floating in him, submerged but safe in the warmth of him as his body laid on top of yours. Your legs automatically wrapped around his hips, and a moan left your lips as the two of you came into contact. 
Tyler pulled away then, but he didn’t go far, leaving kisses down your chin and neck. “You keep making noises like that, and this is not going to last as long as I want it to.” 
You let out a breathless laugh, tugging at his hair. “The noises are your fault, Owens. You’re the one with no-” you let out a gasp as his lips found your breast, pleasure burning straight to your core. “-Self control.” You panted. 
He gave your nipple a gentle bite, causing you to whimper, before he pulled away to look up at you. “Sorry, what was that about self control?” Tyler asked with a smirk playing on his lips. 
“That you have none.” You said, arching your hips up to rub against him for a moment, making him groan against your skin. “But I don’t think I have any either when it comes to you.” 
His smirk turned into a smile, and his lips found your breast again, immediately shooting even more pleasure through your body. 
Nobody really talks about what it’s like to have sex with someone you used to date years ago. Tyler knew your body so well, he knew exactly how you liked to be touched, and what spots would drive you crazy. It was so easy to fall back into it. On top of that though, the two of you had been with other people in the last few years, and you had more experience and confidence than the kids you used to be.
There was no hesitation in Tyler’s hands as they explored your body, and none in yours as one dragged down his back and the other tangled in his hair, holding him against you. You let out another moan as his hand moved from your inner thigh and a finger slid inside of you. 
He let out another groan as he discovered how wet you were, and leaned up to press his forehead against yours as he added a second finger in. “Are you already ready for me, sweetheart?” 
You nodded, bumping your nose against his. “Do you have a condom? I wasn’t anticipating-”
“Having sex with your ex-boyfriend in a motel room?” Tyler grinned as he reached into the back pocket of the jeans you forget he was still wearing and pulled out his wallet, reaching in to take out a condom. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m always prepared.” He said with a smirk. 
You rolled your eyes playfully, but secretly you’d never been more thankful. If the two of you had to stop now to run out and buy condoms, you might’ve lost your mind. You slid your hands down his well defined chest, biting your lip at the muscles you felt there before stopping to rest on the belt of his jeans. “You’re still wearing too many clothes though.” You reminded him. 
“Weren’t you supposed to be helping me with that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. 
Narrowing your eyes at him, you started undoing his belt. “It’s not my fault you distracted me with how hot you are.” 
He laughed, moving your hands out of the way to get his jeans off faster. “Why do you think I got your clothes off so fast? Can’t get distracted if they’re already off.” 
“Guess I’ll just have to remember that for next time.” You teased, sliding your hands back up his chest to rest on his shoulders. It was only when his body froze that you realized what you said. The two of you stared at each other, and you had no clue what to say about your implication of a next time. You didn’t even know if he’d want a next time . . . 
Tyler didn’t let the moment linger though. He shoved the rest of his clothes off and leaned down to kiss you, hard, and all consuming in a way that erased every thought from your head except how much you needed him. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you let out a gasp as your hips came into contact. 
You had forgotten how big he was. 
Almost as if sensing your thoughts, he pulled away slowly from your lips, barely leaving a centimeter between them as his finger trailed up and down your slit for a moment. “You can take it. You’ve done it before.” He whispered, and then slipped three fingers inside of you. The sudden intrusion sent your nails digging into his shoulders and heat exploding across your body. “If you can take that, you can take me.” He assured you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 
He was going to ruin you. Part of you thought he already had, since every other time you’d had sex, he was always on your mind, but now you were sure of it. Nobody was ever going to get you more turned on than Tyler Owens. You nodded, because it seemed like he was waiting for an acknowledgment, and attempted to pull him closer with your legs when his fingers slid out of you. “It’s just - it’s been a while.” You admitted.
Tyler gave you a gentle smile. “For me too.” 
His words shocked you for a second, but then you realized they shouldn’t have. Tyler had never been a one night stand kinda guy. As confident as he was, even before the two of you had started dating, he’d only ever dated girls he felt a genuine connection with. The fact that he still felt that with you enough to want to do this had emotions clogging up your throat. You let your hands trail down his body again, taking the condom from his hand and slipping it on him, your gaze never leaving his face as you enjoyed the sight of his reaction to you touching him. “Then let’s not wait anymore.” You said, guiding him towards you. 
He didn’t need any more encouragement. He pressed forward, and you let out a sigh as he slipped inside of you, your head falling back against the pillow. It was a tight fit, there was no doubt, but he moved slowly, showing, once again, how well he knew your body. Any time you tensed up, he paused, though you could feel by how tense his muscles were how much he was holding back. “That’s right,” he would tell you when your breath started to come faster. “Remember how well you take me?” 
Oh God you did. He fit inside of you like no one else. Even years later he filled you up just enough to not be painful, but more than enough to be satisfying. Another gasp of air left your lips as he pushed more inside of you, and you could tell he was almost completely in. 
“You’re doing such a good job.” Tyler said, leaving another kiss against your skin. “Made just for me.” And while his voice was soft, it was also strained from effort. 
You opened your eyes as you felt him push forward again, and dug your nails into where they had rested on his shoulders once more as he pushed completely inside of you, letting out a sigh of pleasure as he did. 
There was nothing like this. Absolutely nothing. You moved your eyes from the ceiling to find him looking at you like you’d just hung each star in the sky for him alone. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” He said breathlessly. 
Did he really expect you to be able to think right now? You couldn’t think enough to have a filter if you opened your mouth, and you knew that was partially what he wanted. So you let the words slip from your lips. “I’m thinking about how no ones ever felt as good as you do.” He rewarded your words with a little thrust of his hips that had you gasping. “I’m thinking about how you’ve ruined me for anyone else.” Another thrust, this one harder, and you tightened your legs around him. “And I’m thinking about how much I missed you, Ty.” You said softly, letting out a whimper as his hand slid up to your breast, cupping it and letting his thumb caress your nipple. 
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just watching as your hips jerked against his, desperate for the pleasure only he could provide, his eyes locked on your face as if he was committing it to memory. “Would you believe me if I told you I was thinking about all those things too?” 
You didn’t have to think about it. You nodded, moving your hands from his shoulders to tangle in his hair. “I know.” 
Tyler leaned down to meet your lips in a bruising kiss as he thrust inside of you, starting a slow and steady pace that continued to pick up speed with every passing minute until you couldn’t keep up the kiss any longer. Your head fell back against the pillows, and your eyes closed in pleasure as his warm, calloused hand traveled down your body to where the two of you met. “Eyes on me sweetheart.” He said, and pressed his thumb against your clit. 
“Fuck, Ty!” Your eyes snapped open and your chest arched into his, tugging on his hair at the overstimulating sensation. His hips stuttered for a moment as you felt yourself clench around him, but he kept up the movement of his thumb, tracing circles around it. The pleasure was almost too much. You could feel it building inside of you, desperate for release, and you clung tightly to him. “I can’t- I’m-” You couldn’t even get the words out, too overwhelmed with feelings. 
“It’s okay, you can let go.” He said, “I’ve got you.” He assured you, never ceasing his pace or his finger. 
His words triggered your release, almost as if you’d been waiting for permission and you moaned out his name as it washed over you. You clung to him like he was a liferaft, holding you in above water as you clenched around him. You heard him groan your name, saying how good you were, and within seconds you felt his body tense, falling over the edge with you. 
As the pleasure faded from your body to satisfaction, you didn’t want to let him go and groaned in discontent when he pulled back and out of you. He chuckled and leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right back.” 
You sighed, opening your eyes as you watched him head into the bathroom, unable to believe that you had just had sex with such an attractive man, even if he was your ex. He was more than an attractive man though, or just your ex. He was Tyler. The boy you gave your heart to ten years ago who never gave it back. A tender smile was on your lips as he came back to you with a damp washcloth and started gently cleaning you up. 
“You okay?” He asked, the hand that wasn’t cleaning you up resting on your thigh and rubbing the skin there. 
“I will be once you get back in bed.” You replied, and your smile widened at the pleased expression on his face. You let out a laugh as he tossed the washcloth aside and hurriedly climbed into bed, spooning you against his back. 
He nuzzled into your neck, leaving kisses against your skin as he made himself comfortable against you, and shivers exploded across your body as his hand rested on your stomach. “Comfortable?” Tyler asked, pressing another kiss to your cheek. 
Being in his arms again? Comfortable didn’t even begin to describe it. As cliche and embarrassing as it sounded, for the first time since you’d come to your hometown, you actually felt like you were home. “Perfect,” you replied, scooting back even more into him. 
And you meant it. 
————————
You woke up cold, but oh so satisfied. Part of you wondered if last night had been a dream, but you knew that your body couldn’t lie like that. You definitely had the post sex ache. You stretched your limbs out and rolled over, wanting to curl back into Tyler and maybe sleep for a few more hours, but you were met with nothing but sheets. 
Frowning, you opened your eyes, letting your fingers drag across the fabric. It was cool, so he’d been gone for a while. It was only when your eyes drifted up to the pillow did you notice the scrap of paper. 
Stay. 
It was written quickly, almost as if an afterthought, and you frowned at it. Did he really think that he had to ask? You got out of bed, and found a tshirt in the floor. Slipping on your underwear and the tshirt, you sat down at the small table and grabbed your laptop. You’d been writing like crazy lately on a new book, and you’d definitely woken up feeling inspired this morning. 
You weren’t sure how long you sat there typing. It was a great distraction from your thoughts, and when you got into the zone, it could be hours before you realized you hadn’t stood up from your chair. You weren’t so in the zone though that you didn’t hear the doorknob start to turn. 
Tyler entered, once again looking entirely too good in his dark brown button down, jeans and cowboy hat. He carried a familiar brown bag and cup of iced coffee in his hand and held a cautious smile as he looked at you. “Brought you some breakfast.” 
You held out your hands to take it from him, eagerly sipping at the iced coffee as he sat down at the seat across from you. “Thank you, I needed this.” You said, leaning back against your chair. He was watching you, that cautious look still on his face making you nervous. Was he regretting last night? Was he trying to figure out the polite way to tell you it had all been a mistake? 
“What are you thinking?” He asked, and the sudden question threw you off, you didn’t even have the chance to think about throwing up a filter. 
“I’m thinking that I hope you’re not regretting last night. I’m also thinking that you’re too far away.” You admitted, frowning at the distance between the two of you. 
His whole body seemed to relax at your words and the smile that you knew and loved fell back onto his face. He held out his hand to you, and without hesitation you took it, returning his smile as he tugged you out of your chair to sit sideways across his lap. You buried your face in his neck, letting out a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around you, and held you close. “Better?” Tyler asked, one of his hands tracing up and down your outer thigh. 
You nodded, tightening your arms around him. “Much better.”
The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. You knew the conversation that needed to be had, but you had no clue how to even begin to start it. Should you blurt out how you feel? Should you ask him how he was feeling? Tyler beat you to the punch though with a statement that stopped your mind in its tracks. 
“I read your book.” 
Your body froze as your brain took a moment to process his words. Once they did, heat rushed to your face, and you pulled away to look at him. “How did you even-”
“Boone. He gave me a copy pretty much right after you showed up.” He said, and his hand gave your thigh a squeeze. “I noticed some . . . Similarities.” 
You bet he did. More than enough to be embarrassing. You bit your lip, knowing the question that he wanted to ask, and decided to go ahead and give him the option to ask it anyway. “What do you want to know?” You finally said. 
For a moment it wasn’t the new Tyler that you’d been getting to know over the past couple of weeks that was looking at you. The confident, caring, intelligent tornado wrangler. It was young Tyler, the bull rider who wanted nothing more than to ride his fears and bring you along for it. “I guess I’m just wondering why they got their happy ending, and we didn’t.” 
Just because you anticipated it, doesn’t mean it hurt any less. “Ty . . .” You placed your hand on top of his, gripping it in yours. “I wrote that book two years after our breakup. I wasn’t ready to be her then. There were . . .” You took a deep breath. “A lot of things I was still holding onto.” 
“But if I had quit when you asked me to-”
You were shaking your head before he could even finish his sentence. “I never should have asked you to do that.” You let go of his hand to take his face in your hands to encourage him to keep his eyes on you. “Tyler, our breakup had absolutely everything to do with me, and nothing to do with you.” This confession had been sitting on the tip of your tongue for years now, and you finally had the courage to say it. “I looked at you, riding those bulls, and all I could see was my dad. It scared me.” You admitted, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “Drunk, constantly concussed, and soon to be dead either from one or the other. I know that’s not you now, and I should’ve known it back then, but I was too damaged.” 
Tyler looked sad, his hand still caressing your skin. “I would have fought for you.” 
“I know.” You said, and you did. You knew that Tyler would have fought to stay by your side until the end if you hadn’t pushed him away. 
“You were everything to me back then.”
God it hurt. Remembering the look on his face when you had walked out that door. You still had nightmares about it, but like you had struggled to learn, there was nothing you could do about it now. The two of you sat there for a moment before you finally got the courage to ask the question you’d been wanting to. “What about now?” You asked. “Think we can make it?”
A small, disbelieving smile formed on his face. “Is that an option?” 
You nodded. “At least I hope it is. That ball’s in your court Tyler Owens. I’m the one that broke your heart.” You said, sliding a hand down to rest over his heart. “So . . . is that an option?” You asked, biting your lip as your heart started thumping heavily against your chest. God what if you’d just said all that and spent the best night of your life with him for Tyler to say it wasn’t worth the risk? That’d you’d done damage beyond repair? 
Tyler didn’t give you time for your thoughts to get any more out of control. “Oh, it’s definitely an option.” He said, and his bright smile had your heart fluttering. “In fact, I’d say it’s my preferred option.” 
You could barely believe it, even after last night. “You really want to give me a second chance?” You asked in disbelief. 
His smile turned soft, and his hand covered your own on his chest. “Sweetheart, I’d give you all the chances in the world.” 
And then, because you didn’t know what else to say, you leaned forward and kissed him. 
Once again, everything was the same, but somehow different. A better different.
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musical-chick-13 · 1 year ago
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#personal rant in tags#(because I NEED to get shit off my chest and I might as well put it here)#I HATE. /HATE/. how much stock we (as a society) put into how people look#I hate that there's bias in EVERYTHING toward people who naturally seem closer to some arbitrary standard of attractiveness#I hate how people are judged by their bodies and literally not anything else#I hate that I'm expected to completely overhaul my appearance and keep doing that day after day after day to be seen as worthy of#respect and support. I hate how many times I've been interested in someone only for people around me to say 'oh but they're not#hot why do you like them?' I hate how the only time someone has ever outright expressed interest in me is when I looked like someone else#I hate how I'm not the only person who has experienced this that I know SO many instances of this#AM I NOT WORTHY OF RESPECT JUST BY VIRTUE OF BEING A HUMAN? ARE WE NOT ALL DESERVING OF LOVE AND SUPPORT BECAUSE WE ARE ALIVE???#GENUINELY I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. YOUR OUTWARD APPEARANCE HAS /NOTHING/ TO DO WITH WHO YOU ARE AS A PERSON#IT DOESN'T INDICATE ANYTHING ABOUT HOW KIND OR UNDERSTANDING YOU ARE. WHAT YOUR INTERESTS ARE. WHAT YOU VALUE. HOW YOU SPEND YOUR TIME.#like...obviously I'm not perfect and I've still gotta de-internalize some stuff too!#but sometimes it feels like everyone is just so SHALLOW and JESUS fucking CHRIST am I /TIRED/#I have never been '''pretty''' I will never BE '''pretty''' WHY DOES THAT BOTHER PEOPLE SO MUCH???!!#like genuinely just. it's one of the (many) things that has driven a wedge between me and my mom. it's made dating almost impossible.#it made a career in stage acting so much harder than it already was. truly it has put me at some sort of disconnect with a lot of humanity#AND I'M SORRY BUT THAT IS SO FUCKING /STUPID/ IT SHOULDN'T BE LIKE THIS WHY AM I BEING JUDGED ON THESE GROUNDS#*sigh* this was another reason why letting go of Her™ was so hard tbh. she didn't care what anyone looked like not even me#she made me feel beautiful because she genuinely liked who I was as a person. the one time I had this and look where we ended up lmao#...god this not-relationship really fucked me up didn't it sometimes I forget how much everything hurt me and how far back I set myself#because of it#ANYWAY we're probably not gonna sleep tonight :)#In the Vents
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zepskies · 3 months ago
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Headcanon: When You're Having His Child...
Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
AN: This one is requested by @cevansbaby-dove, and is kind of a continuation of this imagine: When you have morning sickness.
Tags/Warnings: Potential fluff overload.
HC: How Dean, Beau, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would act while you're in labor.
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Dean Winchester
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Oh, sweet man...
Dean does the thing where he pretends he has his shit together.
He's really trying, for your sake, for his own, and to save face around Sam and Eileen and Jody and everyone else in the hospital waiting room.
They can see it, and he knows it: he's freaking the hell out.
When he's in the room with you, he's either helping you, holding your hand, waiting for you to be dilated enough to start the whole "having a baby" process, or pacing around on those bowlegs, occasionally dragging a hand over his mouth in that telltale nervous gesture.
"Babe, come 'ere," you say with strain. That last contraction really took it out of you. "You're making me even more nervous than I already am."
Dean goes to you and smooths a hand over your hair.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry. How're you holding up?"
Tears well up in your eyes, but you try to breathe through it. You're overwhelmed, you're in pain, and you've been in labor for several hours already.
"We're ready for this, right?" you ask, squeezing his hand. He sits on the edge of your bed and makes sure you look him in the eyes.
"We're about to find out," he says, with a bit of teasing. But his gaze is steady when he brings your hand up to his lips. "You don't gotta worry about anything. I'm gonna be with you, come whatever, okay?"
You smile, because you don't just believe him. You know.
Because after years of fighting together, surviving together, living together, you know that this is just one more adventure you get to go on with him by your side.
Now, Dean would rather not see all the gritty details of the birth, but he stays in the delivery room, letting you squeeze the shit out of his hand. He's not going to leave your side. He's wiping sweat from your brow and encouraging you, being whatever kind of support you need.
After the baby's born and the nurses bring her back all cleaned up, Dean holds his daughter for the first time.
He has tears in his eyes. For a long moment, he doesn't even blink. He stares down at that small, perfect face. Already he sees some of your features in her.
He can't put into words how he feels. It's overwhelming in his chest. But one thing is certain...
Dean's never been more grateful to be alive than in this moment.
He blinks, and the first of his tears fall. He brings her to you, sitting down carefully on the edge of your bed again so you can hold her. You're beyond exhaustion, sweaty, and weeping, but one thing is certain...
You've never been more grateful for Dean than in this moment.
You turn to him, giving him a small smile. He returns it, and he leans in to give you a gentle kiss.
"Do you have a name picked out yet?" one of the nurses asks.
You and Dean share a look: his imploring, yours knowing.
"We're not naming her Baby," you warn him.
"Aw, come on."
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Beau Arlen
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Round 2! 🫡
Beau runs the gambit from excited, to anxious, to freaking the hell out, and back to excited.
This is "Round 2" for him. His second child. But he's had reservations about being an "older" father to a new baby. (He's pushing 50 at this point. No matter how much he keeps in shape, he still feels his age in his bowlegged knees.)
You've assured him that plenty of men have children at his age.
Regardless of his insecurities though, you know he's still over the moon. Beau has always wanted more kids, deep down, and now thanks to you, he's getting his wish.
He's the man who's "prepared for anything."
When your water broke, he already had your to-go bag ready with everything you might need.
But he continues to ask you questions from the moment he's got you out the door to the drive over to the hospital, and even in the lobby.
"You thirsty? You comfortable like that? How's the pain? Just breathe, baby. I gotcha. Watch your step now. You hungry? We've got protein bars in the bag, unless you're cravin' something else. First things first, let's check in. Oh, I hope we can getcha in a private room. Let's see--oh damn, they sure are packed today, huh? Okay, how're you holdin' up? How's the pain, level of 1 to 10? Yep, got it, hold my hand. Just breathe through it. I gotcha."
Bless him. The man means well, but he's driving you freakin' crazy.
"Beau, I know. If you don't take a breath, I'm gonna pop you in the damn nose."
He tries not to smile at your grumpiness. "...Okay, I hear ya. Let's just get you into your room."
He rarely leaves your side during the entire labor, just to get you anything you might actually need. The radio at his belt occasionally goes off for work, but he apologizes, having forgotten to turn it off. He put Jenny in charge while he's gone.
"Let's just hope the precinct's still standing when I get back," he jokes. He finally turns off the radio and takes it off his belt, to your relief. And he returns his undivided attention to you.
Beau witnessed the birth of his daughter Emily, so he's no stranger to being in the delivery room. He even ventures past the curtain when your son is born, breathing air into his little lungs and letting out a powerful cry.
Beau laughs with tears in his eyes. "That's my boy."
When the nurses place him into your arms first, Beau supports your hold and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. "Good job, honey. Good job."
"I know," you tease weakly.
Beau chuckles. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and looks down at the small bundle in your arms and his.
"We have a son," Beau says. His eyes are red and shining. "I have a son."
"You have a son," you nod. You look over at him and lean in for a kiss. He obliges you, and rests his forehead against yours afterwards.
Life is meant for moments like this, he thinks.
He's damn grateful it's with you.
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Soldier Boy (Ben)
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Readers of Strong as Blood in the BMD-verse will recognize some of this HC...
This day has been a long time coming, for both of you.
He smells like cigar smoke when he comes back into your recovery room. For which you have no doubt, Ben had been puffing away with Butcher and M.M. outside the hospital. 
Ben was with you for most of the lead up to the birth, but you actually agreed that having him in the delivery room wasn't a good idea. He never did well with you in pain, and with his temper, he might just scare the shit out of the doctor and nurses.
He strides toward you though, when he enters the room. He lays a hand on your head and another on the baby's tuft of brown, downy hair.
"We have a daughter," you tell him, with a watery smile.
Part of him still twinges with disappointment. He didn't react well when he found out you weren't carrying a boy, his future son.
(You'd given him enough hell that he never brought up the subject again.)
But that all fades away when he looks down at his daughter's face.
He carefully sits on the edge of your bed, but he's suspended in time. His chest tightens in a way he's never experienced before.
It's almost like pain, but not. Not at all.
He brushes a thumb along the baby's soft cheek. He's almost hesitant to touch her, knowing how fragile she is.
"Beautiful, like her mother," he says at last. And he means it.
He earns your smile.
"Flatterer," you accuse. You know you look as wrecked as you feel. Somehow, none of that matter's whenever you look at your child's face.
You look over at Ben with a shining smile. His lips twitch. He leans in and meets your lips with a kiss, slow and deep and intimate in this quiet little room.
“You okay?” he asks you, after he pulls away. “Got everything you need?”
He’s become even more protective, of course, but also more attentive to you. Especially in the last few months of your pregnancy, seeing how uncomfortable you've become.
It warms you every time, when you consider how rough, how stoic, and how damn-near emotionally repressed he can be.
It seems that fatherhood is beginning to soften him, even before he begins. You quirk a smile at the thought, and at his question.
“Imagine pushing a super melon out of your dick. That’s how I’m doing,” you say cheekily.
He snorts a bit loudly at that, and you shush him, as if it wasn’t your fault he was laughing. He expects nothing less from you.
“But I’m okay,” you answer his second question. “All I need right now is you.”
Ben considers you, a slightly gentler smile curving his lips, and he nods.
“All right,” he says. In this moment, he realizes that his entire world is in this room.
He’d never admit it, but it's a terrifying thought, for a man who once had everything and nothing.
You unknowingly stop the path of his thoughts when you ask him, "Want to hold her for a while?"
Ben perks up at attention. He's a bit uncertain on how exactly to hold the baby, but he can't lose face and tell you that. So he just accepts the bundle when you place her in his arms.
As he looks down at a small face that already has some of his features, he inhales a faltering breath.
It's the first time you ever see true tears in his eyes, despite how much he resists. One manages to draw a path down his cheek. 
“You know, you’re blessed to have my genes, sweetheart,” he says. It elicits a knowing scoff out of you. “But you’re also lucky as hell to have your mom.”
Ben looks up and finds the predictable well of tears forming in your eyes. His smirk softens around the edges.
“She’s the best damn woman you’re ever gonna meet,” he says.
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AN: All right, I'll stop. 😭 I hope you enjoy this one, fluff overload and all! Who was your favorite this time: Dean, Beau, or Ben? 💜
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Dean Winchester Imagines
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Big Sky Masterlist
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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago
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Your name is Tim Drake and you are nine years old.
Today, tomorrow, and soon, you're going to save Robin.
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Tim stares at his reflection on the sink tap. It trembles, along with the plane, as he contemplates his situation.
His face is rounder, now, with unfamiliar baby-fat rounding out the sharp lines he'd come to expect. Even with the subpar reflection, Tim can tell that his dark eyebags are all but gone, replaced with youthful skin.
Magic. He's being quite literal, seeing as he's been tossed into the body of his younger self at the hands of a crazed magician.
He could find a way back... or he could create a completely different timeline by fixing everything that went wrong. It's not like he has anything to go back to, anyways. That crazed magician was actually competent and killed everyone he ever cared about. Tim barely got away with his life. He could go back to save that shell of a world- surrounded by people whose minds were broken beyond magical and medical repair- or stay here, fix his own personal troubles and cut off the magician before he could start with his world domination bullshit.
Well, Tim already has an idea of what he wants. So he begins a list, after having oriented himself.
Save Robin
There's no point trying to convince Bruce that he knows where Jason's being held. So, Tim finds himself on a plane to Ethiopia a day before Jason's meant to die. This was long before Barbara even thought of being Oracle, and the tech is ancient in his hands. In short order, nine year old Tim has a trust fund with millions in it, all siphoned from billionaires like Lex Luthor and his own parents.
Tim toddles back to his seat, after washing his hands because he still can't shake the extra bit of paranoia that came with a missing spleen. Oh. Tim blinks guilelessly at his seat neighbor, smiling like Timothy Drake, Angel of a Son as he reels from the realization that he still has his spleen.
Tim adds another box to his list:
Keep Ra's away from my spleen, creepy bastard.
What else...? Ah, the League of Assassins.
Damian
Tim pauses. Holy crap. Damian's only six right now. Tim moves Damian's box upwards in urgency. Tim might have a mildly antagonistic relationship with his younger brother back then, but he wants baby pictures of his siblings, dammit. He's gonna put that photography expertise to good use if it's the last thing he does.
Watch over Z, Owens, Pru
'They're alive!' His mind screams. Cold rationality slaps the sentimentality down with a quick 'But they won't be if I fail.'
His mind wanders to Dick Grayson. He scowls as something pops up in the back of his head.
Catalina Flores
Contact Nightwing- in space
He's gotta call Dick back from that Teen Titans mission, Jason's gonna need all of the support he's going to get.
Find Cass
Train Steph
Save Duke's family from Venom
Tim taps at that last point. He'll save them. But that might mean Duke might never join their family.
But he'll be happy and Tim... will deal with it. He'll be the only one mourning, anyways. To end on a lighter note, he adds something that he should have done ages ago.
Give Tam a raise.
Tim sighs as he gets out of the airport, the hired escort he found and vetted, delivering him to a predetermined hotel. They think his parents are already inside. He laughs and does not say anything to make them think otherwise. He has so many things to do, Tim laments as he settles down to track the Joker's movements. Here. That's where Jason's being held. Being tortured.
He can, however, knock two things off his list in one go. Tim picks up the burner phone he acquired. He doesn't have time, or else he would have done this sooner and saved them all the trouble.
[RR: Are you in Ethiopia yet?]
[Deathstroke: Payment confirmed. In Ethiopia.]
[RR: Third building by the docks.]
An hour.
[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Target spotted.]
Ten minutes.
[Deathstroke: Target eliminated. Bringing Robin to Safehouse.]
Twenty minutes.
[Deathstroke: Basic first aid applied. Leaving.]
[RR: Secondary payment sent. Confirm?]
[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Pleasure doing business with you.]
Tim sprawls on the king bed. He sighs a breath of relief. He'd check on Jason in person, if he weren't paranoid about leaving traces that would get back to him. Tim's pretty sure that Deathstroke's going to get hunted down in the near future, regardless, so he made sure to add a huge tip on top of the extra fees for burning one of Deathstroke's safe houses and the emergency first aid. He taps into the rudimentary camera Deathstroke had given him the access codes to, to stare at Jason's rising and falling chest. On a further table, the Joker's head laid in a preservation box.
He bypasses all of the security on the Teen Titan's tech to send Dick a message.
[Robin has been retrieved from the Joker. Contact Batman for details.]
Then, he sends Bruce the location of the safe house. Tim spends the rest of the day staring at Jason and watching his father in another timeline break as he huddles close to the broken body of Tim's Robin.
Timothy Drake destroys the burner phone.
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remmys · 1 month ago
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🎃 TFTOBER 2024 !!
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Hey there!! I really wanted to participate in an October prompt list, but seeing as I've been really hooked on TF2 for this entire year, I figured it would be fun to do a TF2 themed list!!
If you participate, feel free to tag your posts w/ #tftober !!! I'd love to see what other people do <3 This list should be perfectly doable for any medium (art, writing, sfm, etc!)
Below the cut is a list of all the prompts with some extra flavor text/ideas! Things are kept vague in a typical drawing prompt fashion
DAY 1 - Main
Who's your main? Who do you play most often?
DAY 2 - Hats!
It's not called a glorified hat simulator for nothing! There's plenty of cosmetics at your fingertips in the game!
DAY 3 - Relationships
Everyone knows someone. Whether it's a family member, a friend, a lover, or even an arch nemesis!
DAY 4 - Pyrovision
Put on the goggles and take a look at things with a new perspective!
DAY 5 - Battlefield
Probably where a mercenary spends most of their time
DAY 6 - On Break
Battles don't rage on forever. You've gotta take a break eventually
DAY 7 - Offense
The front lines. The moving force
DAY 8 - Defense
The back lines. Makes sure nobody gets too far
DAY 9 - Support
Everything in between! Perhaps even the foundations of some teams
DAY 10 - Teamwork
It's not called TEAM Fortress for nothing, right?
DAY 11 - Fem Fortress
Happy Friday! Give some love to the girls!
DAY 12 - Free Space
Draw, write, or SFM to your heart's content! Do whatever you'd like!
DAY 13 - Respawn
Nobody stays dead.
DAY 14 - Capture the Flag
That briefcase isn't going to steal itself!
DAY 15 - Backstab
Should've checked behind you.
DAY 16 - Mann vs Machine
Guns and bullets or nuts and bolts? Who knows what could be running through those metallic minds...
DAY 17 - Expiration Date
Teleportation and bread. What else can I say?
DAY 18 - Headcannons
Think a little deeper. What do you just know has got to be true about the mercenaries?
DAY 19 - At home
Everyone comes from somewhere. Everyone has a home.
DAY 20 - Headshot
Looks like you stood a little bit too still.
DAY 21 - Alternate Universe
Emesis Blue? Lil' Pootis? A universe where the mercenaries are all alligators? The world is your oyster.
DAY 22 - Australium
A divine and valued substance rarer than gold
DAY 23 - Administrator
There's more to a war than just the fighters
DAY 24 - Pets
Some people have a soft spot for certain animals. Others choose to keep theirs around 24/7.
DAY 25 - Injury
An inevitability of war
DAY 26 - Control Points
A constant back and fourth
DAY 27 - Comics
Ink, panels, and pages. A story through words and pictures.
DAY 28 - Custom Class
Is nine really enough to cover everyone needed in a war? Probably not!
DAY 29 - Ubercharge
A miracle of medicine
DAY 30 - Sentry
Sometimes the best way to get good aim is to not be the one aiming
DAY 31 - Scream Fortress
Happy Halloween! Scream out to your heart's content and enjoy the spooks of the night!
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hotvintagepoll · 6 months ago
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Propaganda
Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever
Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?
This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Jane Fonda:
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"I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"
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"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."
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"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"
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"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"
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"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"
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"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"
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"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"
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Eartha Kitt:
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"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."
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"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."
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"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”
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"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."
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"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."
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meaningofaeons · 1 year ago
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ emotionally unavailable
⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, jing yuan, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 3.3k ⊹ notes - gn!reader (sampo, gepard), fem!reader (jing yuan, you're referred to as 'lady'), reader is emotionally constipated or just kinda stoic as the title suggests, I guess you could say tsundere?? mostly fluff -w- ⊹ part 2 here!
sorry for the delay on new writing!! honestly I've had a bit to do around the house and the inspiration hasn't been inspiring Σ(;Φ ω Φ) if you want to send in a request, feel free! I could use some new ideas ♡(ミ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﻌ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ミ)ノ thanks for the support!
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⊹ Gepard Landau
You honestly didn't have much to think about the Captain of the Silvermane Guards.
Aside from the due respect and mild admiration that just about everyone in Belobog held for him and his military group, you didn't have much else to say. The two of you had never even spoken.
The only connection you could possibly have to him was via his sister, Serval Landau. She was your friend (a tentative word for your situation, you surmise) and would often have him over at her store.
You also tended to lounge about the Neverwinter Workshop ("hanging out", Serval would call it, but you begged to differ), but you had never really paid him much mind, and you assumed he had paid you the same.
Serval's favorite nickname for you is "lounging stray" due to the way you came in and out as you pleased, staying only for food and rest when it was available.
The most you recall interacting with the imposing man was a hesitant wave when he had entered the shop while Serval was out.
After all, it would have been quite rude to completely ignore him—though, honestly, you never cared much for politeness, so you had always mulled that incident over in your head. Why had you greeted him?
About a week later, you were mildly surprised to see a bouquet of flowers in Serval's hands from Eversummer Florist.
It wasn't exactly an unusual assumption to make that the down-to-earth rock-and-roll enthusiast would have her share of admirers, but they were typically more forthcoming with their affections from what you'd observed.
But then, upon spotting you, she promptly shoved them into your arms, announcing that they had been addressed to you, not her.
You hadn't felt your face shift that much in years, nor had you ever experienced that level of shock before.
"Looks like someone has a secret admirer," Serval touted, tuning her guitar on the side with a smirk playing on her lips. Her tone was drawn out, knowing, as if this were some elaborate prank she was in on.
"Wow, Ball Peonies, even? What an expensive spread! Lucky Y/N!"
You didn't even spare her a glance as you took your usual seat in her workshop, thumbing one of the petals with mildly intrigued contemplation.
In your rush to lounge about the workshop and ignore your friend's loud teasing, you failed to notice Gepard at his sister's side, nor the way his ears turned red and he hurried to hush Serval.
"I don't get it," you murmured at last, both siblings' heads whipping over to you. "I don't talk to anyone. Except you, that is."
"Well, I didn't send them. Sorry, my little stray, but as much as I adore you, it's not in that way!"
You gave Serval an unamused raise of your brow, then huffed, mumbling a 'whatever' as you lay on the windowsill in the corner of the shop.
However, that pair of blue eyes sneakily noted that your attention was still taken with the flowers, far from your usual routine of pulling out your phone to scroll.
Eventually, you held them on your chest, deigning to stare out the window as you began drifting off into a half-conscious nap. Your rest, however, was awoken by the sound of loud whispering. Serval noticed the unimpressed look on your face and laughed, clapping her hands together before patting Gepard on the back, who looked thoroughly embarrassed. His face was bright red.
"Well, I gotta head out and run some errands! Keep Y/N company for me, huh, Geppie? They can get lonely."
You chose to ignore that last bit, raising your hand and waving at your friend who practically flew out the door.
An awkward silence settled over the room, which miffed you a bit. What did you have to feel awkward about? This had happened before with other people.
Even then, you weren't keen on breaking it. It seemed the Captain had other plans, though.
"Um..." Gepard spoke up from across the workshop, standing just a bit uncomfortably as he shifted from foot to foot. You glanced over your shoulder at him from where you lay, waiting for him to speak. "Sorry about Serval. She can be a bit much."
"I know," you replied simply, unable to meet his eye for some reason. "I'm in here a lot."
"I know," Gepard echoed. Then, his face went back to tomato-red. "Um, I mean, I see you around a lot in here whenever I visit. Not that I'm intentionally staring at you, or anything of that sort! I just notice—"
"It's okay, I got what you meant."
"Right! Right." The Captain shut himself up, thorough mortification making its way back to his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "S-Sorry, uh, for rambling."
"It's fine."
Well, this was getting painful.
You stunned yourself momentarily when you opened your mouth to speak back first.
"So, uh... How's being Captain and everything?" you murmured, almost too quiet for Gepard to hear. When he realized you had spoken first, his face brightened just a bit, though he still appeared to be fighting the humiliation off his face from his earlier verbal blunder.
"Well, how much would you like to hear about?"
You shrugged. "Anything, I guess. Got any cool stories from the front lines?"
The blonde man smiled, taking the chance to tentatively move closer, pulling over Serval's stool and taking a seat.
"Well..."
About ten minutes later, Serval had decided to spare her poor brother from any more awkwardness, completely sure that the workshop would be thick with silence due to his bashfulness and your nonchalance.
To her surprise, though, she heard muffled voices from within. Serval opened the door as carefully and quietly as she could, peeking her head in just enough to see a sight she never thought she'd see.
You were smiling, even laughing a bit, engaging in conversation about Gepard's duties and your own daily activities (even if there were little of those) from your place on the sill. Her brother seemed to be enjoying himself too, gesturing with his hands as he talked up his own underlings' achievements in battle.
The eldest Landau watched for only a moment longer before shutting the door softly.
"I should go get something to eat... give them a little space."
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⊹ Jing Yuan
You liked to call your relationship to the General of the Luofu strictly professional at most.
To call it anything more, in your mind, would be disrespect of the highest order to the man who has defended the fleet for centuries.
Besides, you didn't know if you were exactly capable of anything beyond that. Even your limited friends agreed that you were just about as stoic as one could get.
You frequently heard of their debates with other workers within the Seat of Divine Foresight even as you worked—who was more difficult to approach, you or the General himself?
You scoffed to yourself whenever your so-called "friends" argued that you were, in fact, harder to speak to.
What's so wrong with being professional? If anything, you should be telling them off for gossiping in the workplace.
Still, you couldn't exactly argue with them.
Being the right-hand of the General was enough for you to learn his mannerisms even over a short time, though now, after serving at his side for several decades, you could confidently say he was far less intimidating than everyone made him out to be.
Not that you cared, of course. Strictly professional, you told yourself. His mannerisms had nothing to do with you unless they affected work.
Even with your indifference, though, the General was being... odd lately.
Jing Yuan let out an unabashed yawn as he slumped into his chair, tugging at his hair as he polished off the last of his paperwork.
For once, you thought to yourself with a huff of amusement, going through your own papers at an impressive speed. Read, approve or deny, sign, move on.
Considering he hadn't skimped on his own work, there was no real reason for you to be giving yourself early onset carpal tunnel as you typically did, but you figured it would be best to finish the work as soon as possible anyhow.
It meant less work tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that, for not only you but the other Luofu staff as well.
"...ey."
Your brain tuned out all other noise as you moved past yet another proposal, flicking to the next page of your increasingly shrinking stack.
"Lady Y/N. Hello?"
You ignored the growling within your stomach. After this is done, you thought to yourself, I'll treat myself to a meal at home.
"Lady Y/N."
You jumped nearly ten feet out of your seat at the low voice whispering in your ear, clapping a hand over the side of your head as red-hot mortification set in. You glanced to your side to spot the culprit���none other than your General, Jing Yuan.
Had he just whispered into your ear?! The feeling of his warm breath still lingered.
"General!" you shouted, taking a deep breath as you tried to reel back your attitude and present yourself with decorum, as always. "I am working on these proposals, so if you could please refrain from pulling pranks, it would be much appreciated."
Jing Yuan gave you a wry smile, raising his hands innocently.
"Is part of your job description not answering to me?" he asked unfeignedly, golden eyes twinkling. "I called your name about ten times."
"Well, yes, but..." You raised a brow a moment later. "Surely not ten. I heard my name a total of twice."
"So you were listening." You heaved a sigh. Ever stubborn, he was. "Does that mean you were consciously ignoring me? My, the gall, Lady Y/N."
"Not at all, General," you assured. "Only absorbed in my duties. Now, do you need something of me?"
Jing Yuan tapped his chin, settling into the seat next to you and stretching out. He didn't get too comfortable, though, you discerned. Was he planning to head out for the night?
"Well, yes, I suppose I do. I'm sure you'll only listen if it's a direct order from me, after all."
"Of course, General. I am at your beck and call." He chose to ignore the edge of sarcasm in your voice as you resumed your proposals, trying to finish as many as you could before he announced his task.
"Lady Y/N, I'd be delighted if you would join me for a meal. Anywhere of your choosing, and it will be my treat."
"Right, of course. It will be done, General," you mused half-heartedly, before your froze in your tracks, hand stilling midway through a signature. "...Wh—"
"Fantastic. Then I will await you at the door," Jing Yuan smiled again, and you felt yourself welling up with exasperation at the cockiness displayed in it. "Please don't keep me waiting too long, Lady Y/N. Those proposals can always wait one more day, but I am short on time myself."
You were about ready to protest, dropping your pen as you nearly rose to your feet. Your face was hot.
"General, I—!"
"You wouldn't think of backing out after agreeing so openly, would you?" the white-haired man teased, and then, after contemplating for a moment, he held out a hand. "In fact, why don't we depart right now? Just so I can be sure you won't get absorbed in doing more advance work."
He had completely trapped you. You furrowed your brow in disbelief, and then heaved a deep, long sigh. Finally, after leaving him to stand and await your decision for just a few moments longer, you took his hand.
"Very well. But General, if I may..."
"Of course, my dear."
You flushed again, but remained steadfast in your words.
"To make up for this trickery, please do not skip out on your paperwork again."
Jing Yuan's low, rumbly laughter caused you to look away, lest your feelings show on your face. He still did not let go of your hand.
"I suppose that is only fair. You have a deal, Lady Y/N."
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⊹ Sampo Koski
You would be completely remiss to allow anyone to refer to you and Sampo as acquaintances, much less friends.
Although the two of you had grown up fairly close, he allowed you no clemency from his constant scams.
It turned into more of a game for him as time passed, though—your natural stoicism and good head on your shoulders didn't allow any of his jabs or tricks to pull through.
That was perhaps what kept him stuck like glue to your side all these years, though... The fact that you were the one person he couldn't quite swindle.
Not that he actually wanted to, anyhow.
As much as Sampo was a slimy businessman in the eyes of pretty much everyone, he didn't seek a profit from someone as close as you. Well, not unless he did you a favor first, of course, but that's basic reciprocation.
You, on the other hand, found yourself perplexed as of late.
Sure, you had known Sampo for practically your whole life, but getting close to someone or being close by birth didn't make you any less inclined to cut them off if they interfered with your life to a degree that you found to be annoying.
You enjoyed the predictable, the mundanity of your daily life working as a trainee doctor under Natasha. You didn't need anyone in your life who might throw a wrench into the ordinary you currently enjoyed.
So why was Sampo the exception?
It was a fairly typical, ordinary, boring evening when you walked into the clinic—12am sharp, just as Natasha had requested of you. You were frankly quite lucky that she didn't ask more of you, but you supposed she was already pushing her own ability to ask favors of you by requesting you watch the overnight patients while she rested.
You didn't mind, of course. You'd always been a bit of a night owl, especially with the somewhat perpetual darkness of the Underworld thanks to Belobog looming over top of you.
Not to mention, you and Sampo had always spent most of your time together in the evenings anyways, the nighttime routine well suited to both of your sleeping schedules.
You felt a twinge of annoyance shoot through you at the thought of the blue haired man, and quickly placed a hand to your forehead between bandage changings for the patient on the table.
There he was again. Sampo, Sampo, Sampo!
Though you could usually push him out of your mind without a second thought, it was beyond you why he was suddenly popping into your brain more nowadays.
Sometimes it was a mere, 'I wonder what Sampo is up to right now. Not more trouble, I hope.'
Sometimes it was something more bordering worry, and those passing thoughts irritated you the most. What did you care? If he got hurt, it would likely be justified in the wake of one of his scams.
You could rationalize those ideas with the notion of not wanting more work at the clinic should he get injured, but even that was weak. Sampo deigned to avoid Natasha for his own wounds, not wanting to burden the leader of Wildfire, likely more out of fear than actual selflessness.
Still, though—
"Heeeey, Y/N! Miss me?"
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
"What do you want, Koski?" Your tone was flat, not even sparing him a glance as you moved to your next patient. Changing bandages again, a simple routine that could hopefully keep your mind occupied this time.
"So cold..." You could hear the beginnings of a pout on his lips, finding yourself sighing irritably. "I came to see you, after all!"
Your hands paused for a moment, stilling. A minute tremble in his voice. You whipped your head around to focus your sharp eyes on him, and he winced back, his typical happy-go-lucky smile faltering.
"H-Hey, what's the matter? Helping Miss Nat out with some late night patients aga—"
"Show me," you ordered, finishing the bandage you were currently on and standing up, moving towards Sampo with your arms crossed. He backed up, hands raised in surrender.
"Whaddya mean, I'm— Ouch!"
The conman couldn't help the yelp he let out when his back made contact with the wall, wincing painfully as his wound hit the hard surface. You raised a brow, unimpressed.
"Shirt off, Sampo Koski. Now."
"Woah, woah, at least take me to dinner first!"
Your glare worsened into something stormy as you pointed at the chair nearby.
"Sit down, shirt off, now. Don't make me repeat myself again."
With the face of a wounded puppy, Sampo slunk over to the chair, doing as you asked. He hissed through his teeth as the cloth of his outerwear dragged against the wound, the layers giving way to a deep trio of gashes on the skin of his back. Even with all your medical training, you found yourself cringing at the sight.
"So, Doc, what's the prognosis?" the man laughed weakly, still trying with his jokes even through his pain.
When you remained quiet, his smile fell, and he turned to look at you. If it were anyone else, you might've mistaken that frown for concern.
"Y/N? You... okay?"
"Be quiet," you huffed out at last, grabbing your rolling table of medical supplies and bringing it around, pulling out a chair as you began to inspect the wounds. "What was it this time?"
"Ah, you know, same old, same old! Just some disgruntled robots, not too keen on letting me make a profit with their buddy's parts!"
"You're an idiot."
The usual Sampo would've shot back with some witty or flirty one-liner that was sure to earn him a smack over the head, but when he heard the slight tremble to your voice, he decided it'd be best to keep his mouth shut for now.
"This'll sting. Don't shout, or you'll wake the other patients."
He bit his lip, expecting a harsh serving of antiseptic, but your hands were... gentler this time. You tenderly cleaned the wound with a water-soaked cloth, and though it did sting a bit, it was far nicer than your usual tough treatments from the ire he earned getting injured all the time.
Soon after, he felt you gently patting the wound down with a soft towel, bandages following soon after that you reached around his torso to wrap around him.
Then, you reached for the pack of painkillers.
Sampo was quick to laugh nervously, pushing the pack away when you held it out to him along with a glass of water.
"Hey, hey! Thanks, Y/N, but I really shouldn't be using Miss Natasha's painkillers. Besides, with how sweetly and tenderly you just patched me up, I'm feeling better already!" he fake-swooned, clasping his hands together like a maiden in love to ham up his act.
You were far from impressed.
"You're a bad liar, Sampo Koski," you scoffed, shoving the water and pills past his defensive hands. "Take it. I can't convince you to stay here and actually rest for a change, so it's the least you can do."
When he still looked apprehensive, you swallowed your pride, lowering your gaze and averting your eyes as your face went just the tiniest bit pink.
"...For me."
Sampo honestly thought he misheard you for a moment, but he finally, hesitantly, took the medicine you offered. You led him over to the door, and he laughed breathlessly, finally giving you another smile as he shrugged his shirt and coat back on.
"All right, all right. I'll get out of your hair, and take these. Just for you."
The conman cackled and ran all the way down the alleyways as you shouted after him, fist raised. Once he had disappeared, though, you let it fall to your side, sighing again.
This time, there was a hint of fondness... but that was something else you would be remiss to admit to.
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mangostarjam · 4 months ago
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declarations (alternate version) — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, use of foods as nicknames, childhood best friends dynamic, reader wears a dress and heels, oral (f!receiving), 3k words — the first bit is the same as the original but it does deviate
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"Why do I need to wear a dress?"
Hoshina Soshiro glances up from where he's lounging on your bed. You've already pulled on the dress, of course, and he watches with probably way too much interest as you tug and adjust the way it drapes along your body. It's pretty. It fits perfectly, though you have no idea when Soshiro learned your measurements enough to show up at your door with such a gorgeous dress hanging from his fingers. Maybe he got them from Okonogi-chan?
"You'll be walking 'round with me and the Captain, egg tart, so you've gotta look the part," he says idly, though you can feel the burn of his stare along the newly exposed skin of your back. "And don't forget the heels!"
You glance at the cute, strappy heels he left by your mirror and frown. "If I wear those, I'll be taller than you, Soshiro-kun."
"Aw, that doesn't matter," Soshiro says. He sits up and you look away from the flex of his incredibly defined abdominal muscles beneath his compression shirt, which he apparently wears all the time, even under his formal dress uniform with all its tassels and buttons.
God. Embarrassing. You really need to get your staring issue under control.
"I can fight whoever looks at ya."
"Wha— ?" Heat sears across your face as you splutter and spin around to face him. The skirt of your dress twirls with the movement and you catch his gaze snapping down to your thighs. "Why would you need to fight anyone?"
"Hm?" You take a step back as he gets up and stalks over to you, holding your breath subconsciously as he kneels at your feet and takes one of the heels in hand. Your room suddenly feels warmer, the air hushed, as if the two of you are the only ones who exist in the entire universe. Soshiro chuckles quietly and shoots you a grin that makes your knees feel wobbly.
"Soshiro-kun?"
"Well, 'course I'm gonna fight for ya, apricot," Soshiro says. You flinch as he reaches out to grip your calf, the rough callouses on his fingers scraping lightly as he lifts your leg and slides your foot into the shoe. "You're my best friend, yeah?"
And I'm just a simple man in love goes unspoken as he carefully ties the silk around your ankle to keep the shoe in place. You wobble a bit at the balance and he glances up from beneath his violet bangs. "Hold onto my shoulders," he says quietly, reaching for your other leg. "Don't worry, I've got you."
"S-Soshiro-kun, I can put these on myself," you mumble, heat flaring up your spine at the careful pressure of his fingers on your ankle. He lifts your leg and you grab abruptly at his shoulders, fingers digging into the thick muscle there as you regain your footing with his support.
Soshiro lets out a breath. "I know," he says simply. "But I wanna do it."
Is this what men do when they're in love? You wouldn't know — the only man in your life you've ever cared about is right in front of you, and he's refused to elaborate on his strange statement no matter how many times you've asked. You have a feeling he means it, though.
Like, really means it. You love Soshiro — of course you do. You've always loved him. But lately it's felt… different.
Still comfortable. He's still your biggest supporter and vice versa, and he still knows exactly how to cheer you up and make you laugh. You know all his ticks and tells, and you take great pride in taking care of him while he's looking out for everyone else.
But at the same time… it's uncomfortable.
These little touches — they're new. The way his gaze lingers on your body is also new. Or… maybe you've just never noticed before. It's not a bad thing. But it makes you feel strange and fluttery inside and you catch yourself daydreaming about what it'd be like to actually get a hickey from Soshiro. Your best friend.
You stare down at the top of his head and try to repress a shiver as he skims up your legs to where your skirt rests against your thighs. His touch leaves behind a trail of warmth that burrows deep. "Um— ?"
"Ya look real pretty like this," he says. You're still holding onto his shoulders as he rises from his crouch, your entire body hot and hyperaware of how close he's standing once he straightens. "I could really just eat ya up." The smirk on his face makes your heart thump painfully in your chest, but he doesn't give you a chance to question it before he's grabbing your hands and spinning you around in a little twirl.
"S-Soshiro!"
You let out a little yelp as the room suddenly turns sideways, your center of gravity abruptly gone as Soshiro scoops you off your feet with one strong arm behind your back and the other beneath your knees. You throw your arms around his neck in a desperate move to keep from falling, though you know he'd never drop you.
Soshiro looks down at you with a glint in his eye. "Maybe I will."
"You'll… what?" you ask, breathless. He looks… hungry. Something about that look makes your stomach clench. "Soshiro-kun?"
"As your best friend, I think I've gotta do a lil inspection," Soshiro says brightly. He carries you over to your bed effortlessly, laying you down with a care that makes you burn up in a mixture of embarrassment and want.
You want… something. Soshiro gently detangles your hands from behind his neck and brings them up above your shoulders, gripping both wrists in one of his hands. His other hand is planted by your shoulder to keep from squishing you, though he keeps his balance with a knee between your thighs. "What…?"
"Just checking," he murmurs, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. You can feel his breaths on your lips and you strain a little against his hold, wondering if he can feel your pulse beating rabbit-fast in your wrists. His hand is trembling, though you can't imagine it's from the strain of holding himself up. "Can I?"
What… what is he asking?
Does it matter? It's Soshiro —
"Yeah," you breathe. "Go ahead."
His lips brush yours in a whisper, an exhaled sigh, a pressure as light as a butterfly. You make a funny sound and he grins as he skips down to your neck, pressing a firmer kiss there at your pulse.
"You do taste good, chestnut," he mumbles, just before you feel the sharp nip of his canines pinching your skin. You yelp in surprise and he chuckles, brushing his lips across the spot in apology.
"What did I say about food nicknames," you manage to gasp out, blinking blearily as he rises back up to face you. The tops of his ears and the arch of his cheekbones are painted a charming pink, but his eyes are serious as he meets your gaze.
"Are you good?" Soshiro asks.
Are you? You do feel good — better than good. The way your heart is racing would probably raise some eyebrows in a medical ward and your brain feels like mush, but. You've had your share of meaningless crushes — puppy love, infatuation — but none of it ever really mattered because you've always had Soshiro.
None of it ever felt like this.
Oh.
"I'm good," you whisper.
"And this is okay?" he asks. "I'm not — I told ya I don't mess around when it comes to you."
"I'm not messing around either," you grin up at him, feeling suddenly buoyant as the pieces click into place. "I'm yours, Soshiro."
Your best friend looks at you for a moment, but whatever he sees in your expression makes him laugh — a rough burst of sound punched out of his chest — before he leans down to kiss you again.
You can feel him smiling into the kiss.
It's a little awkward — he bumps your nose and you can't keep from grinning, either, so the kiss turns into several kisses, the smooth press of his lips against yours sending heat curling through your veins as his kisses get deeper, hungrier. He tilts his head and finally lets go of your wrists to grasp your chin, moving you to get the angle just right, though his careful intentions go up in smoke when you reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair and tug.
He pulls back with a gasp, eyes wide and pupils blown, panting as if he's just finished fighting off a kaiju. His voice cracks as he murmurs your name.
"Yeah?" you lean up to brush your lips against his jaw, admiring the strain of his neck as he huffs. "You're so pretty, Soshiro-kun."
It takes a second, but Soshiro's next breath is a sharp inhale as he presses his body against yours, pinning you to the mattress.
Then he whines.
Oh, god.
The sound seems to startle both of you, but he recovers first, dipping down to kiss you senseless as the ache in your core intensifies. He's solid and warm and heavy on top of you, his hands burning along your arms and sides and skimming over the neckline of your dress before he seems to settle on gripping your hips as he bullies his way between your thighs. The gasp you let out is loud in the thick air of your room, but the groan he lets out when you squirm against the solid, unyielding length of him is even louder.
Soshiro moves back to pressing hard kisses to your neck and exposed shoulders, panting hard as you whimper with every stinging nip of his teeth. "You're gorgeous," he murmurs, "you're so fucking perfect, I can't —"
"S-Soshiro," you whine, wiggling your hips in an effort to chase the electric sparks of pleasure rising with every sharp, aborted thrust of his hips. "What's — why're you —"
"I'm tryin' not to cum in my pants," he grunts, fingers digging hard into your waist to still you. You sob at the loss of friction and Soshiro huffs. "Fuckin' hell — you're so — but I can't be walking 'round the party all dirty."
Your eyes snap open at the reminder and you shove at the shoulders you were clinging to for dear life a moment ago. "The party!"
"Yeah, the party," Soshiro laughs, grabbing one of your hands. He presses a kiss to the leaping pulse in your wrist. "Didja forget, pumpkin?"
The tender affection somehow makes you warm, even as his hips grind slowly against your core to make you burn. Your legs, which you hadn't even registered moving, drop to the sides, sending your dress to pool further up your thighs and exposing the thin fabric of your panties. Soshiro glances down at the movement, but you can only see the way his lashes flutter at the sight before he's grinding his clothed cock against you again.
A muscle in his sharp jaw ticks as he glances back up at you. "Ya look real good," he says, "and I'm tryin' to do this right, but —"
One thing about being best friends for your whole lives means you can tell when he's holding something back.
One thing about becoming lovers with your best friend is that now you can see he's been holding back from this.
"You can't go into the party like this," you point out. Soshiro laughs, a strangled sound.
"We're not havin' a quickie as our first time," he says firmly. His expression lights up. "But I did promise an inspection, didn't I?"
"What're you — Soshiro!"
He moves too quickly for you to react, pressing another hard kiss to your lips — his tongue dipping in to draw out a startled moan — before he's suddenly kneeling at the edge of the bed, yanking you closer by your legs spread on either side of him. "The heels look nice," he says conversationally, dragging his hands up your calves.
You suddenly feel over-sensitive, your nerve endings straining into his touch as he leans forward to drag his nose along the inside of your thigh. "Ah— Soshiro, that tickles!"
"They make your legs look good," he continues, as if you hadn't spoken. You raise up on your elbows to glare down at him as he brushes his lips featherlight against your thigh. Soshiro smirks and turns his head to nip the skin there, kissing and sucking along your thigh as he slings your leg over his shoulder for easier access.
Oh, shit.
The whine you let out would be embarrassing except that Soshiro mutters a curse and shoots you a look that makes your core clench tight. You reach for his hands, desperate for some leverage or an anchor, and he lets you take one of his hands but uses the other to hike your other leg over his shoulder.
"This is cute," Soshiro remarks, looking intently at your panties and the damp spot clearly evident even in the dim light. "Were they expensive?"
What is he asking? Why would it matter when the only thing you can focus on is the incessant ache in your core, inches away from his touch, heartbreakingly empty and wet and hot —
Soshiro rips your panties with one hand and tosses the flimsy scraps of cloth aside, exposing your fluttering core to his hungry gaze. You shift desperately, torn between wanting and wanting to hide, but before you can voice a request Soshiro dips in and licks you.
"Oh, fuck —" you moan, collapsing back on the bed as your hips buck up into the friction. Soshiro licks at you sloppily, digging his tongue into every inch and fold of you as he groans.
"All this for me?" he murmurs, catching your eye as you clutch desperately at the blankets. "Only for me, right, melon drop?"
You nod shakily as he gently kisses the throbbing bundle of nerves at your core. "I'm yours, Soshiro," you gasp. The waves of pleasure building in your body are frightening, your heart pounding hard, but you can't help tilting your hips closer to him. "Please, Soshiro — I… I can't —"
"Hah — fuck you," Soshiro groans. "Hold on to me."
You barely get a moment to register his command before he dives back in, targeting your clit and sucking on it as you sob with pleasure. White hot electricity races through your veins as you scrabble desperately for something to hold on to, grabbing at the purple strands of his hair and rocking your hips as he devours you.
You feel the burning touch of his finger as he drags it along your lower lips, making you suddenly hyper aware of how empty you feel. Your insides clench futilely, your fingers twisting into his hair painfully as you moan and beg. "Soshiro, Soshiro please —"
You can hear the squelch of your wetness as he finally slides his finger inside you, poking and prodding your walls until he presses against something that makes you see stars. Your back bows off the bed as you pant and squirm.
"There ya go," he grunts, pulling back to fix you with a burning red stare. "Let go for me, honey. I've got you."
You clench around his finger as he adds another, the intrusion unfamiliar but welcome, pleasure spiraling and spiking through you as he flicks his thumb over your clit and presses against that spot just right. It's — it's too much — too overwhelming —
Soshiro sucks your clit between his lips again and you shoot over the edge with a shout.
"Good fucking girl," Soshiro murmurs. You can barely hear him beyond the fuzzy aftershocks, but the words bleed warmth into your face as you melt into the mattress. He carefully licks you clean, chuckling when you whine at the overstimulation.
"Soshiro?"
"Yeah?" He climbs back over you, the lower half of his face shiny with wetness. It should be gross, but you're so boneless you can't even bring yourself to care as he leans down to kiss you, tongue tangling with yours as you moan at the taste of yourself.
"Where'd you… where'd you learn how to do that?" you mumble tiredly.
"In my dreams," Soshiro says, laughing when you pout at him. "I've been dreaming 'bout you for ages, y'know. But most of the technical stuff was from locker talk with the guys."
You nod and glance down, but the angle is awkward and you can't quite see —
"Ah, don't worry 'bout me," Soshiro ducks his head and you stare at the pink flush rising up his neck. "I'm gonna hafta meet you at the ballroom, hazelnut. I need a change of pants."
"Oh," you nod, wide eyed and blushing as he snorts. "Sorry?"
"Don't apologize for bein' a dream come true," he says. "But we should really go soon, or the captain'll have both our heads."
Soshiro helps you stand on wobbly legs as you regain your balance on heels, kneeling to smooth your dress back down your thighs. "Wait — what about my panties?"
He tilts his head thoughtfully. "Right, I'll help ya with that."
Soshiro's touch is warm this time, not burning hot, and the kisses he presses along your thighs are more ticklish than anything. He grins up at you as you giggle. "Will we tell Captain Ashiro after the party tonight?"
He rises and his gaze goes to your neck and shoulders, exposed by the straps of your dress. Something sharp and pleased settles in his smile. "I don't think we'll need to worry 'bout it. Any fool who gets close to ya when you're marked up all pretty for me is askin' for trouble."
… What?
You look past him to the mirror and gasp. All those little bites from earlier are blooming pink and purple beneath your skin. Soshiro laughs, swoops forward to kiss your scolding right out of your mouth, and pulls away only after you've melted back into his arms, pliant and breathless.
"You passed inspection, by the way," Soshiro adds, smiling a little lopsided and fond. "Congratulations on becoming the Third Division Vice Captain's fiancée."
Your eyes widen. "Fiancée?"
"Oh, too soon? We can start off with 'girlfriend' first."
"Soshiro…"
"What? A guy's got dreams, alright?"
You laugh. "You didn't even propose!"
"Alright, fine," he kisses you again and you beam, delight and happiness swooping through you at how easy it all feels. "Keep that third finger on your left hand empty for me, apricot."
"It's a promise."
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whenlilyfallsinlove · 8 months ago
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the three times you and georgie cooper were jealous of each other and the one time you acted on it
a/n: ahh first post!! i was actually watching young sheldon while writing this :) sad it's the last season but excited for georgie and mandy spin off!! anyway felt like there was a lack of georgie x readers so wrote this with my fav trope! enjoy!
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i - the time when veronica duncan punched georgie in the face
"and then... she punched me in the face!" your best friend georgie recounted to you, as you sat on the front porch of his house, a can of beer in both your hands.
"she punched you in the face, in front of everyone?!" you chuckle, raising an eyebrow.
"yeah.." he replied.
"no way! what did you even do?!" you take a sip of your beer, looking at him. your best friend georgie was one of your favourite people in the whole world and very good looking, hey! you were allowed to say that!
"i kinda.. told her i loved her. in front of the whole church." georgie muttered, slightly flustered.
"you what?!" you spluttered, hardly believing a word he was saying.
georgie saw the look on your face.
"hey i'm not lying!" he says, chuckling.
"what did you expect?!?! poor girl. you barely know her georgie!" you laugh teasingly, this boy really was something else. you had grown up alongside the boy and everything he did even to this day still surprised you.
"i know but i'm bummed by it.. i really like her y/n." he looks at you with wide eyes. he sounded... serious?
this stopped you laughing.
"you really like her huh?" you look at him, encouraging him to say more.
"yeah.. look" georgie sighs, taking a swig of his beer. "i've never felt this way about any girl before. ever."
oh. why did this feel like a massive kick in the stomach? your insides had gone all funny.
"oh.." you mutter, looking down. "didn't realise you were that serious."
"yeah.. i need to make it up to her, i care about her.. even if she don't about me" georgie sighs.
woah he really seemed to care about her. why did this aggravate you so much? veronica was a nice girl, pretty and kind.. even if she did (rightfully) punch him in the face. she was good to your best friend. so why didn't you feel supportive?
"don't worry georgie.." you reach out and comfortingly pat his arm "she's a nice girl, she'll forgive you."
he smiles and wraps his arm round you "thanks y/n, you're the best friend ever, ya know that?"
"yep.. what would you do without me." you chuckle, nervously.
friend. why did him referring to you as that make you feel queasy? that's what you were, right? best friends? this felt weird though.. different.
you suddenly felt sick.
"look i gotta get home.. got a lot of homework" you stand, trying to ignore the feelings you were currently having.
"going so soon l/n?" georgie grins.
"yeah sorry.." you chuckle "good luck with the veronica thing anyway.. i'll see you tomorrow."
"see ya" he smiles and waves you off.
you wave back and walk down the street to your house, thinking about what had just happened.
the sickness feeling, the disgust, the small bit of sadness you felt when georgie said he'd never felt that way before
then it sunk in. you were jealous. fuck!
ii - the time that guy from your spanish class asked you out
spanish was somehow both your favourite and least favourite class. i mean you hated the class - you were awful at it but you got to sit next to georgie in it.. so maybe it wasn't too bad.
today started like any other spanish lesson. you listened to the teacher drone on about grammar, you and georgie had a footsie war under the table etc. everything was normal. that was until the end of the lesson.
you were packing away your notebooks, listening to georgie babble on about football when adam, the boy who sat in front of you, approached you.
"hey y/n" adam smiled shyly at you,
"oh uh hey adam" you said friendly enough, but very confused on why he was speaking to you.
you weren't the only one confused. next to you, georgie had been interrupted by this exchange and had stopped talking, now listening, his eyebrow raised.
"uh i was wondering.. if you'd like to see the new ghostbusters movie with me tomorrow night.. its okay if not, i understand." adam chuckled nervously.
georgie frowned at this. who did this adam guy think he was, asking you out to the movies? he didn't even know you! who asks someone out that they don't even know.. this guy was a total weirdo. there was no way you were gonna say yes.
"um.. okay" you interrupted his train of thought. adam was quite handsome, and seemed nice. and although it was bad to admit, you needed a distraction from the unknown feelings you were having for your best friend.
your answer shocked georgie. why on earth did you say yes? did you feel bad for him or something.. or maybe you just wanted to see the new ghostbusters? he would've taken you if that was the case! not this idiot.
"oh good. i'll pick you up at 7 tomorrow then?" adam smiles at you, and god georgie wanted to punch him.
"yeah okay." you smile back, and watched as he waved at you then left class.
"well that was.." you turn to georgie, who is not looking at you but is looking straight ahead.
"let's go to lunch." georgie ignores you and starts walking off.
"oh okay" you mutter, then follow him.
georgie was mad. this guy didn't deserve you, he was definitely punching! you were beautiful and deserved someone way better. someone like.. him! but no you were best friends.. he couldn't ruin that. but the more he thought about it the more he realised he was jealous.
you were his, not that adams! that was the day georgie cooper realised he liked you, his best friend.
iii- the time georgie ditched you to hang out with jana boggs
every summer, you tagged along with the coopers (well more so georgie but you had long since been accepted as a member of the familt) to the carnival set up by pastor jeff and the church.
every year, you and georgie usually went off together and did your own thing but this year was different. georgie had been dating jana for a while now and of course it was only normal for him to not hang with you as much and you shouldn't get mad at him for wanting to spend time with her.. right?
"oh look.. jana's over there." georgie chuckles, awkwardly looking to where his girlfriend was stood.
"yep." you reply.
"and she looks.. pretty lonely" georgie states, again awkwardly.
"uh huh" you nod.
"maybe she needs someone to talk to?" he says.
"hey i get the hint, you go hang with her.. she's your girlfriend after all, i'll stay here with missy" you try and say encouragingly, but your voice wobbles slightly.
"really?!" george smiles.
"yeah!" you reply.
"you're the best" he gives you a tight hug. "i owe you one!"
"don't worry" you say, watching him walk off to jana " that's what friends are for" you mutter.
you look to the ground. it felt like it was time to finally accept that you liked georgie a lot. and not just as a friend.
"that was pretty sad to watch" missy speaks up, looking at you half sympathetically, half in enjoyment.
"well i'm glad my sad life gives you joy." you let out a weak laugh.
"look i've always liked you y/n, you're cool, and i've always thought you can do wayyy better than my dumb brother" she tries to comfort you.
"well thanks." you smile.
"and just so you know... i think georgie likes you back. he's just stupid.. and scared." missy smiles.
"i hope that's the case." you smile back.
as you watch georgie laugh along with jana, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.
you really liked your best friend.
iv - the time where missy matchmakes.
"georgie.. please please please can you take me and marcus to the movies tonight" missy begged, standing in georgie's doorway.
"missy.. i'm supposed to be hanging with y/n tonight." georgie frowned, secretly he had hoped tonight would be the night he might finally confess to you.
"bring her with you! she loves me." missy smiles smugly.
"we'll see." georgie sighs.
four hours later, georgie, y/n and missy were in the car, going to pick marcus up. georgie didn't take much convincing after learning it would entail missy and her boyfriend being alone, and you were quick to accept to come with.
"so missy.. how serious are you and marcus?" you ask, turning round and smiling at her.
"we're kinda serious.. we've held hands a bunch and hugged. we haven't kissed.. but we've shared a straw" she replies, subtly bragging.
"oh wow pretty serious then." you chuckle. georgie smiles at you. he loved that you got on so well with his family, it was something he'd always liked about you.
there was silence for a while.
"can i ask you guys a personal question?" missy breaks the silence.
"umm sure" georgie responds as you nod.
"so you're both single..."
"thanks for the reminder" you smile playfully.
"and i know jana broke up with georgie because of you y/n.."
"how do you know that" georgie exclaims, confused.
"i know everything." missy deadpans. "and i also heard you on the phone to each other."
"anyway.." she continues "why don't you just date each other? it's very clear that you like each other, everyone can see it. it's simple." she says, proudly.
both your eyes widen. you were not expecting that. you start uncomfortably laughing and turn to look at georgie.
georgie was looking straight forward , avoiding eye contact.
"well.." you start "i don't think i'm georgie's type.."
"you kidding?" georgie exclaims. "not my type? of course you are! i compare every girl i ever meet to you!"
you sat shocked. what. the. hell.
"you do?" you look at him.
"of course i do. i like you a lot y/n." georgie blushes, avoiding eye contact.
your heart stopped. finally!!
"oh really? georgie i also like you a lot!" you smile, brightly.
"you do?" georgie grins.
"yeah of course i do! i have for ages.. i was jealous of jana.. and damn this was ages ago but i was jealous of veronica as well!" you chuckle.
"no way!! i was jealous of that adam guy! and pretty much any other guy who talked to you as well!" georgie replies, smirking.
you smile.
"i was just too nervous to say anything." you say.
"holy shit, me too!" georgie agrees.
you reach over and touch his shoulder. he smiles back. and at that moment although it sounded cheesy, it did really feel like a moment from a romcom.
"aww that was real cute guys." missy smiles.
"but don't you dare say any of that cheesy stuff when marcus is in the car!"
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skythealmighty · 2 months ago
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man. there are so many object shows out there. I NEED TO CATCH UP ON SO MANY why are the4e so many anyway Exclamation Mark (NOT AB) im killing you. he would get bullied off tumblr
#rocket talk #roc save #NOT THE ANIMATIC BATTLE ONE that ones fine #i mean the one in my header #hes an asshole #why do i keep accidentally hitting the number keys lately
(7 notes)
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📉 storyboard-but-better Follow
i cant believe my contestants are so pissy over the second challenge still!!!! it was a coherent challenge i think "survive me killing you" is pretty straightforward!!! besides theyre fine now >:/
⏰ timeisatool Follow
Maybe it's becausw you killed them?
📉 storyboard-but-better Follow
well thats stupid
⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
I KNOW RIGHT!! my old contestants got SO pissy when i killed th3m!! just because theres no recovery... 😒
⏰ timeisatool Follow
You dont have recovery????
⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow
arent u supposed to be dead
⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
well im NOT so
❗ black-and-red Follow
Ugh, I haven't even killed anyone that much and they're still pissy! Honestly... just do the challenges and you'll be fine! I only threatened them..
⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow
well i thought i killed circle but ig not! and square but nobody else died idk why everuones so afraid of me... whats so wrong w wanting to make a perfect object show?
⏰ timeisatool Follow
Um
🔥 betterheatsflamesman Follow
yeah theres nothing wrong with that! you gotta do what you gotta do for your object show
⏰ timeisatool Follow
😰😰😰😰😰
⏰ timeisatool Follow
I want to leave this group...
#i thought we were all just supposed to be wacky and weird 😰😰 #mom come pick me up im scared...
(34 notes)
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🔥🔃 betterheatsflamesman Follow reblogged 🪔 slay-style-queen
🪔 slay-style-queen Follow
Hey guys, just managed to get sponsored with my object show idea!!! (No thanks to you Lip Stick lol) wish me luck!! Also go keep an eye out on Village of Objects Official :D
🪔 slay-style-queen Follow
what the FUCK
🪔 slay-style-queen Follow
oh my god how do you all stay sane actually
4️⃣ four-therecord Follow
we don't! welcome to the club
🪔 slay-style-queen Follow
im never doing this again
#:)
(4,294 notes)
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📻 annie-annie-ooh Follow
Who's Animatic?
#It's Your Fridge DJ! #I appreciate all the lovemail and the concern! ❤ #I don't understand some of the asks but thank you anyway!
(725 notes)
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🧪🔃 test-tubular Follow reblogged 💥 fans-fantastic-features
🫵 have-you-heard-of-this-os Follow
Have YOU heard of:
🫵 have-you-heard-of-this-os Follow
Please stop debating on whether or not this "counts" as an object show, this was requested by an anon. If you want to do that on your own time on your own blog, feel free!
💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
SORRY ABOUT THAT SJEHSKEB will move i promise 🙏
anyWAY on another note i miss this showww 😭 i was so intrigued about it but i guess i understand its cancellation... if anyone wants to come up with a rewrite w me hmu my ao3 is in my desc!!!!
⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow
just as long as you clarify its unofficial!! (:
💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
its on ao3 ofc its unofficial
💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
WAIT A GODDAMN SECON
#Fan we were /on/ an object show and technically famous I'm not sure why you're surprised at this point #Also get off your phone we're at Purgatory Mansion
(11,374 notes)
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anonymous asked: hey greeny can you say trans rights for everyone out there
🟢 greenyguy Follow
trans rights AND trans wrongs. even if you like burger king i still support you <3
#burger king sucks ass tho dont do that to urself
(34,193 notes)
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💥 fans-fantastic-features asked: im SO sorry for the sudden reply earlier, up until your post i thought hfjone was just some weird wild experimental show?? then again i shouldnt be surprised if happy star themselves is on this goddamn site (also sorry in advance for my friend TT sending you asks about alternate universes. shes a science nerd of all types and needs data or sm) if you want i can tell you what i know about your situation in a private chat, ive done a lot of deep dive analysis posts on my blog too and trust me when i say a LOT of the internet wants to help free you and everyone else you have plenty of help available spotty replies tho im investigating smth
🎒 liam-plecak Follow
I... yeah, I'd like that. Thanks.
(34 notes)
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anonymous asked: battery ui is kind of already jailed but still
🔒 your-fav-would-be-jailed Follow
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Battery from Ultimate Insanity would be jailed!
🔋 theft-and-battery Follow
Yeah
#Why did someone earlier send in that Walkie Talkie person? #I approve of the Blender submission though #Hate that guy
(12 notes)
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🎒🔃 liam-plecak Follow reblogged 💥 fans-fantastic-features
🕹 fire-cartoon-schtick Follow
cant have shit in this fuckass hotel 😒😒😒 lens just died 😔😔
🕹 fire-cartoon-schtick Follow
#WHAT THE FUCK #DONT JUST DROP SMTH LIKE THAT AND DIP #ARE YOU OKAY?? #ARE YOU TALKING ABT A GAME???
hi! rhanks for the concern! 😁 i am unfortunately not talking about a game lens is actually dead please help me (dms r open 🙏🙏)
#Since I've gotten a lot of followers recently I feel like I should boost this #I'm busy with my own issues but maybe someone else can help?
(5,204 notes)
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⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
i want my SHOW BACK i want my CO HOSTS BACK i want calculatory DEAD i only MILDLY HATE happy star i dont KNOW WHAT ELSE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT
🥝 gela-not-jelly Follow
🫵 Fanny kinnie
⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
who the FUCK is fanny
#im CIRCLE not a goddamn FAN #who even names themselves fanny anyway
(382 notes)
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⚪battleforcircle asked: oml spiderman pointing meme
⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
you sent me this FIFTEEN TIMES get OUT of my ASKBOX!!!!
📉 storyboard-but-better Follow
why are there two of you...
⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
theres only ONE of me i dont know who this IS!!
⚪battleforcircle Follow
theres three of us just three of us
#idk why either tbh #tumblr just recommended his acc to me one day #he seems fun to annoy tho so ive taken it upon myself to do so #tee hee
(89 notes)
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📶 she-walkie-on-my-talkie-till Follow
Hey so why is a known criminal on Tumblr?
📶 she-walkie-on-my-talkie-till Follow
Hello???
235 notes · View notes
carmenized-onions · 6 months ago
Text
Where To? | Delivery Fees
logline; Fix, after fix, after fix; at a point, you've gotta ask what you are.
[!!!] series history, this is the fifth; First, Second, Third, Fourth
portion; 8k+ (sorry, it's about to go down. Perfectly in time for your long Friday midnight read that you regret in the morning!)
possible allergies; birth/medical shenanigans (nothin' scary, tbh, unrealistic), Mikey heavy talks and thus, mentions of drug addiction, it's traumas, his death, and grieving! Tony makes a joke about being bisexual, and I simply can't apologize for this, I write the perspective I have, man.
pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (aunt, mentions of bein' a mom, no pronouns? I think?)
this is by far, I think, the best (and longest) chapter so far, and if you don't leave me a paragraph (or several) detailing your thoughts and favourite moments, I will eat a lightbulb. And you will simply never hear from me again. Be warned,,,,,
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Everyone works fast and efficient. Hospitality is used in two places for a goddamn reason. A well-oiled machine can switch gears on a dime.
Sydney gets a clean table cloth sample from a pile of off-whites they’d been considering. She puts it down in the office, swiping it over the floor to cover up the grime. Does she close her eyes when she walks in, and trip over the chair on the ground? Yeah. But she’s trying to be respectful of Nat’s privacy, okay!?
Tina talks Nat through everything as she gets Nat to lay down, she finds your Carhartt jacket hanging the shelf, folds it, and tucks it under the small of Sug’s back for support.
Richie is in the front of house, yelling at Pete over the phone, both with disdain and love somehow? That’s fathers for you. Fak is respectfully standing in front of the office door with one pile of warm cloths and another pile dry. Was he yelled at when he initially tried to come in? Yes. He’s handing them off to Sydney as needed now.
You scrub your hands clean, dry them, then start rolling on prep gloves at the sink. An apron is thrown around you, you turn your head just so, to see Carmen behind you, tying the neck and then waist of your apron for you.
He’s focused on the knots, but he looks up at you for a split second, meeting your curious gaze, his only explanation is, “S’faster.” You refocus on your gloves, because you’ll go insane if you don’t. It’s a silent exchange.
When you’re both scrubbed and ready, Carmen takes the towels from Fak and you usher for him to switch places with Tina, who slips out along with Sydney.
Everyone else sits outside the office, hushed and worried, and it is just the three of you, in here. Technically four, if you think about it. He sits on his knees so Sugar can elevate her head on his lap. And on the other side of him, about to assist in the birth of his niece, between her legs, is you.
You situate yourself, hands at the ready to catch a baby, towel in your lap.
And if you can just pretend you’re wearing medical gloves instead of prep cook gloves, and scrubs instead of an old Beef apron, you can almost believe it’s three years ago and you’re riding in the back of an ambulance helping a new mom deliver a baby, and Mikey is still alive somewhere where you don’t know him yet. You shake your head out of it. There’s not time for this.
“Alright, you’re doing a great job, just keep breathing, just keep pushing— Sometimes talking helps, uh, with labour.”
“I— What should I talk about—?”
“Oh, uh—” You look up at Carmen as if it’s gonna help you, and in a way, it does, “Why don’t you tell me baby names you’ve been considering? You pick one out?”
“Oh, oh I— Christ— I was thinking maybe, maybe Michaela? Is that stupid? That’s stupid, isn’t it?” She warbles with a stinging level of insecurity.
“I don’t think it’s stupid, Sug.” Carmen’s quick to jump in, swiping her hair out of her eyes. You nod in agreement, backing him up. “I don’t think it’s stupid. It’s a sweet sentiment— Nobody gets to judge the way you mourn, Nat.”
She groans in pain, then groans more pitifully, like being struck with a sudden guilt, “Tony!”
“Yeah, yeah, Nat? I’m here.” You take her hand.
“I was being a bitch before in the bathroom!” She whines this out like a drunk girl’s confession.
You’re quick to lean forward to her, consoling her, as if she is in fact a drunk girl in the bathroom with you, “Nononono, you were fine— Hey, keep pushing, keep breathing— You weren’t bein’ any type a way, you’re good!”
“I was so judgy! I was just like my fucking mom— Oh my God— Am I gonna be my mom?!”
Carmen and you are lightning fast to usher and coo a myriad of denials and flat out ‘No’s. When he gets the chance, he looks up and whispers to you, “What did she say to you?”
He’s far too hung up on this, in this moment. You squint at him, whispering back, oozing with sarcasm, “She can still hear you.”
“I said— I said ‘didn’t see you at the funeral’! Like who says that!?”
Carmen should be looking at his sister, which makes his stare feels ten times more exposing, “You didn’t go to the funeral?”
You shrug, but you feel a mountain of guilt on that shrug, like fucking Atlas. “Neither did you.”
He squints back at you, head tilting just slightly, “Yeah, but—”
“You knew him so much better than we did and I just— You’re so intimidating!”
“Intimidating?” Looking at Carmen’s face, it doesn’t look like he disagrees. Which only shocks you all the more.
“Yes! You know, you’re— You’re—”
“You’re like Mikey.” Carmen finishes for her. She nods, deliriously, trying to focus on her breathing.
“In what way?” You’re way too interested in this conversation, Goddamn it, look at the baby forehead, not the boy.
“You don’t talk like him or nothin’, but—”
“It’s the air!” Sugar shrieks on ‘air’, white knuckle gripping your hand. “You just, you control the temperature— you make rooms easier to breathe in like he did— And I— I wanted to push to see you make it harder to breathe like he—Oh my God!”
“Nat, you’re doing a fantastic job. The head’s a quarter way out, you’re doing —great.” You nod to Carmen, and wordlessly he knows to take your absolutely shattered hand out of her grasp and replace it with his. “And I try my best, but I— Y’know what, this isn’t the time—”
“No! Please, God, keep going!” She is clinging to your words like a telenovela. “This is all I have to keep my mind off my vagina tearing open!”
You nod, you want to wring your hands together but you’re wearing latex gloves. “I just— I didn’t know your brother better than you did. I just— I just knew him when he wasn’t letting a lot of people know him.”
“How did— you become friends with Mikey?”
“Dad was a fixer—”
“No, I know how you met. How did you become friends?”
You pause. God, no one’s ever called you on it. You've always been able to get away with a mere list of factors.
“I, uh…. was a couple jobs in at the Beef, with my dad, and we’d spoken casually before, but I stepped out to get some air, and he was there, havin’ a smoke, and he offered to share, and when I said ‘Oh, I don’t smoke’, he—”
You soften at the thought, eyes distant, smirking. “He went ‘What, are you Amish?’ And I guess, we just… Became friends over how detached and different I was, from everything else in his life. I didn’t know anything about him before The Beef. I didn’t come with expectations or social circles to rat on him to. I was— I was basically Amish, to him.”
You were his lock box. You had no way of using anything he ever said against him, and even if you could, you never would.
He could bitch about his successful baby brother in Denmark, and also rave over how excited he was about his successful baby brother in Denmark. He could do impressions of his little sister's cringey husband, and also show his relief in the fact that she will always be loved. He could tell you how scared he was, he could tell you what Uncle Lee said—he couldn’t tell you he was using. No. He couldn’t tell you. But you would find out, when you had to administer Narcan on him as he was passed out in the back alley of The Beef.
From there, there was nothing you didn’t hear about, nothing he thought would be worth hiding, after that. A diary of confessions is carved into your heart. Your name is carved into your favourite booth at your second favourite diner, not two blocks from here. It’s all the same handwriting.
You didn’t know Mikey better than his siblings did, you just knew how he felt about the things they saw.
Natalie’s shrieking brings you back to earth, you re-cradle your hands for the very top of the baby’s head. Despite the pain she’s in, she was right, your talking really is helping her keep the focus off her pain, “Is—Is that why you didn’t go to the funeral?!” She’s not judgy or mad, she just can’t say anything without full screaming it.
“I don’t— I don’t know if this exact moment is the best time—”
“I decide what time it is!”
Carmen looks up at you, and for the first time, is wincing at the iron clad grip his sister has his hand in— Ironically, the one with the stabbing tattoo. He wheezes, “She— She decides what time it is.”
“Right.” You nod at both of them, eyes wide. Your tone is hasty, you’d rather explain yourself well, but now you just have to explain yourself fast because the baby’s head is three quarters of the way out.
“Well, I, uh, yeah— It was, it was tough. I didn’t— I didn’t want to watch a group of people I’d heard so much about, good and bad, walk up on stage in front of a closed casket— N’— N’ talk about like, cute childhood moments— When I—When I had seen, when I had only seen him at his worst. And I— I liked the Mikey I got, loved the Mikey I got, but I know those last two years were very different. And I guess— I guess, I didn’t wanna learn… What I missed.”
There’s a lot of reasons why you didn’t go to the funeral, but that’s the one you know she’s going to find the most digestible and make some semblance of sense out of, right now.
She nods, repeatedly, deliriously, Carmen holds her head still. “I’m— I’m sorry, Tony.”
“I forgive you, Sug.” You nod back, reassuring, a soft smile for but a moment. “Now breathe, and one last big push— Head’s almost out! Smooth sailing from there, you’re doing so good!”
Just as frantic as Natalie’s screaming, there’s doors slamming, yelling, and what sounds like tripping from outside the office, “Nat! I’m here! I’m here! I’m coming!”
“Oh! Hold it in, Pete’s here—”
“Sugar, again, I hate to tell you this, not how that works!”
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It’s about an hour later, you’re sitting out in front of The Bear, on the curb, with Syd.
Tina headed home as soon as she could to get back to her family. Richie said he’s on ‘daddy drop off’ for Eva tomorrow, so he had to head out— And he’s Fak’s ride, so he left too.
Once the baby had been delivered, and you’d screamed at calmly communicated to Carmen to get the exact time for the birth certificate, and Pete had rushed in and almost slipped on the wet sheets and cracked his head open— Everything was totally chill.
Pete’s driving his wife and daughter to Saint Anthony Hospital, where they’ll stay in holding for the next one to two days. Carmen refused to let you clean up on the basis of, ‘you just delivered my niece, get the fuck out’; and is inside, finishing that up. And so, you and Syd are perched up outside, getting some much-needed air, talking about nothing.
“That was fucking— crazy.”
“I think I should start smoking.” Is all you can reply, laughing shakily, eyes on the stars— Though there’s not many. Shout out light pollution. You hug your arms, still in the same outfit, apron-less, jacket-less, cold as fuck.
Syd laughs, “Yeah, that’s the move. For sure.” She sighs, sipping water from a deli cup she’d brought out. “...I’m never fuckin' having kids.”
“No, for sure.” You whistle, leaning back for dramatic effect, “I go back and forth on it a lot, and then I see a mom giving birth or dealing with her goblins and I’m like—”
You look to each other, speaking at the same time, “Free birth control!”
“Genuinely!” You snort, laughing through the words, “I leave cat food out on my fire escape for this one stray on my block, and I think that is as committal as I’m willing to get with taking care of creatures.”
She sniffs, looking at you more peculiarly, still smiling, “I think you’d be a good mom, though.”
Your amused grin sobers into a wistful smile, “I think you’d be a good one, too. Both like taking care of people.”
She punches your shoulder, softly, obviously. “You came through in an insane way, tonight.” When you try to wave it off, she doubles down, “I literally do not know what would’ve happened without you. The Bear is literally in your debt—And—And— You ditched your date, for us.”
You sigh, though smiling, “Syd, it wasn’t—” “It was bad? It was so bad you were kinda wishing this would happen?”
The house lights of The Bear shut off and Carmen comes out as you respond, locking the door behind him.
“I cannot fathom a date so bad that I actively hope my friend’s sister goes into labour and needs me to deliver her kid.”
“So it wasn’t bad?” She leans forward onto her knees, like she’s about to get the daily scoop.
“Not what I said, no, you keep cuttin—”
“You cold?” It’s Carmen who cuts you off this time, standing behind you both. You turn your head to him, still hugging your shoulders. He looks …stiffer than usual? Tense? You can’t tell the adjective, he just looks… Different. Or maybe it’s just a default you’ve never noticed. But you think you would’ve noticed.
You stand up, as does Syd. “Oh, yeah. I thought I’d like… Rinse my Carhartt before I wear it again. I’m good, though.”
He pauses where he is, like he’s computing, then shakes his head, “Don’t act tough.” And takes off his jean-fleece jacket, holding it out for you. Who are you to refuse that?
When you reach for it, he pivots in time to put the sleeve over your arm for you, then the other. You quickly recall the walk-in, and suddenly this feels like divine retribution. God, it’s weird to be cared for in return. God, he cares for you? Don’t start ruminating right now, holy shit—
“Thanks.” You cough, awkwardly, looking to Syd, pointing your fingers to both of them. “Ride? Ride?”
Syd holds her bag over her shoulder, and you can already tell what she’s gonna say. “I’ll take the—”
“If you say L instead of my fuckin’ car, it’s your ass, Adamu.” It’s past twelve. No way.
“…I’ll take the ‘your fucking car’, please.” She bows her head down, you throw your arm over her shoulder, dragging her with you. “That's my girl!”
You turn your head over your shoulder to Carmy, his weird different demeanour has somewhat melted away, good enough. “You comin? I’m holding your jacket hostage this time, so you kinda have to.”
He follows close behind you two, sheepish. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll take the ride.”
“Who wants to sit in the back?”
“Isn’t the hot-seat s’posed to be shotgun?” Syd questions.
“You know, people say that, but that’s for when you wanna socialize, when it’s late you wanna sprawl in the back and pretend you’re the last person on earth.”
“You make a compelling argument, my friend.” Syd taps her nose, grinning. She calls to Carmy behind her. “I call the back!”
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“Is it bad if I don’t check on my dad, while I’m here?” You park in front of Syd’s place. You know it well, your dads live on the same block. “No, right? It’s twelve in the morning and no matter what you both say, I think I do still smell vaguely of afterbirth.”
“If I were your dad, I think I would prefer to not be visited, right now, yeah.” Syd nods, taking her seat-belt off.
“Woww,” You eye her through the rear-view mirror, “You don’t love your daughter, Syd? Wouldn’t get up at midnight for me?” Carmen laughs from the sidelines into his fist, leaned against the window.
“Of course I would, my sweet child!” She snickers, reaching forward to pinch and pull your cheek, you slap her hand away. “Alright, fuck off.”
When she pulls back and goes to grab her stuff, you remember. “Oh! There should be a lil’ gift bag, somewhere on the ground back there?”
“Yeah,” She procures the bag, lifting it up to her head for you to see. “This thing?”
You nod, “Open it.”
“Oh what!?” She groans, before even opening it, “You got me a present and have saved me twice? Did you kill a loved one of mine or something?”
You laugh, shrugging. “Bloodlust is insatiable. But, y’know, I’m proud of you for opening and getting Head, I wanted to commemorate, or whatever.” You shove Carmen’s shoulder, getting his attention, “Yours is coming, by the way, I just need a lil’ more time on it.”
He seems perplexed by the idea that you’re getting him a gift, even though you already told him you would, but he nods. Syd unbags her present, “What…?”
In a small box, with a clear lid so she can see through, is a white Dickie peter pan style collar. Tacked onto both lapels are gold circular collar pins. On the left one, it has the initial S, and the other A; both in gold over a white background. A thin gold chain connects the two pins, across the neck. All fake gold, duh, you’re not rich. But it’s still gorgeous. And thoughtful.
“‘You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.’” You repeat her own words back to her, looking at her through the rear-view mirror, smiling. “I thought maybe a little extra personal touch on the uniform would help with that. The collar’s really just to explain how the fuck it works, but I also sweat so much in your kitchen, so I thought it could be use—” Syd cuts into your ramblings, swinging her arm over your headrest to hug you, more like choke. But with love, so you hug her arm back. “—Full.”
“You’re a great daughter, Tony.” She squeezes. “Thank you.” You just squeeze her arm back.
She shows the gift off to Carmen, who seems genuinely impressed, he can’t stop glancing between the gift and you. You remember things. “Beautiful, Chef.”
“Oh, oh oh, before you go—” You snap your fingers, “I’m coming to the wedding gig, fuckin’ uh… Vickie and Merman? That can’t be right…”
“You’re coming to Vinnie and Mira’s wedding?” Ah, count on Carmen to know names. It's his family, after all. Or family adjacent? Unsure.
You nod, “Bartending. Cicero got me. You’re catering?”
He nods, “30k is 30k.” Syd backs him up. “It’d be fucking stupid, if we said no, especially since they’re taking expenses.”
“We should like, coordinate or something—” “Wait!”
Syd interrupts, clutching the shoulders of your seat and Carmen’s. “When did you see Cicero?”
“Uh, couple hours ago? When you were spamming?”
Syd squints, looking into the middle distance like she’s just cracked a case wide open. Hot outfit. Denial of dates. Cicero. “Oh my god... Cicero’s your sugar daddy?”
“What?!” Lightning speed, both you and Carmen yell. Probably for entirely different reasons and confusions.
“No! Syd, I was at work—” “Well, it is a type of job—” “I am not doing any sort of code for Sugar Baby activities! I was at a real place of business and he was there, he asked me to bartend, he said y’all would be there.” You gesture with your hands wildly as a form of enunciation.
“Right…” She opens the door behind her, eye contact un-breaking. “I’m gonna figure you out…”
You roll your eyes, waving goodbye with one hand, flipping her off with the other. “Text me your hotel plans for New York, loser. We can split a room.”
“Okay, loser! See you. See you tomorrow, Carm!” She waves you off, shutting the car door behind her. Carmen waves back to her. Once she’s safely inside, he turns to you. You speak before he can.
“Listen, there’s something about being around your childhood friend, and also around your old neighbourhood, dropping her off at home like you used to in high school, that makes you completely age regress into a sixteen-year-old.”
He smiles, putting his hands up in defense. “I didn’t say shit.”
“I could feel the judgment, radiating.”
“I, I wasn’t—” He chuckles awkwardly, scratching his nose to hide his eyes. “I thought it was cool. To uh, see, a different side to—to both of you.”
“Awe.” You pull off the curb, driving off. “Wonder what you were like, as a teen.”
He laughs, “A fuckin’ loser, is what.”
“Eh, I was too.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Oh? We go to the same fuckin’ high-school, Berzatto?” You flick your gaze from the road to him for a moment. “I think I would’ve remembered.”
He rolls his eyes, though you don’t see it, back on the road. “You wouldn’t have been a loser. Not like, like me level loser, at least.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Too nice.”
“That’s true. I was an angel.” You hum. “I was well known but not popular, I tended to hang out with the more fringe people. Also, I was fucking depressed, I missed like, half my junior year with fake sick days.”
“Hm.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the head rest, tilting his vision to you. “I would’ve thought you were cool.”
“I would’ve thought you were cool, too.” You smile. “I bet we would’ve been friends.”
He just hums in reply, not confirming or denying, lost in thought. He tilts his head back to look at the road. You speak up after a moment, “Where are we headed, by the way?”
 He straightens up in his seat immediately, leaning forward. “Oh, oh right, fuck, directions—”
“That, but also like, I can drop you somewhere else— Like, not home.”
“Like?”
Like your place. “Like uh, I dunno, if you wanted to go to the hospital? If you’re like… A hospital family?”
He snorts, “A hospital family?”
“Like, for my nephew, I didn’t go to the hospital, I met him a week later. But you did already meet your niece— So maybe you get a pass?”
“Yeah, I don’t think we’re a hospital family, anymore, anyways.” Ah. The silent knowing. The glue that was there is gone. “You have a nephew?”
“Yeah, you wanna see photos?”
“Oh, uh, yeah—”
“I’m fucking with you.” You chuckle, “No one wants to see photos. But I do have a nephew.” You click your teeth. “You have now joined me at Aunt and Uncle status, people will congratulate you despite the fact that you contribute nothing to becoming one. Congratulations.”
You reach a hand out, awkwardly shaking his hand for a second before right back to the wheel. It’s hard to move one hand up and down and also drive. Carmen just shakes his head, chuckling. A win.
“We could also go shopping.” You shrug. “Buy your niece some baby shit? Or, you’re tired, so I should probably just drop you—”
“Let’s go shopping, yeah.” He’s quick to interrupt, pivoting to face you. Anything to keep the night going, with you. “If uh, if you want.”
“There’s always something I need to re-up on, I’m down.” You nod to him, more specifically, his phone in his lap. “Can you find the nearest 24/7 department store, for me?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He fiddles with his phone, getting directions, then balances it on the console so you can see. There’s a lull of comfortable silence as the adrenaline from you two delivering a fucking baby wears off. God, the trauma bond between you is as thick as a lead pipe at this point. You can’t tell if that’s a good thing. You don’t want to find out.
He’s first to break the silence. “Left up here.” Just reading you the directions, and then tacks on, as you take the left. “…Where were you, when we called?”
You groan, though smiling, “Not you fuckin’ too, Carmy!”
“I—” He laughs, disingenuous, you can tell. “I just wanna know, if, if we really did interrupt somethin’ for you.”
“You wanna know if I went on a date.” Not a question, a statement.
His mouth opens, shuts, opens. He shrugs. “A little.”
“Why, you wanna ask me out?”
What. What. What. What. Why— Where— Who—Huh? Crash the car. Why did you say that? Why would you say that? Crash the car right now. Veer into that streetlamp. Kill both of you. Instantly. Those should be your last words. Do it. Do it!
You cough, clearing your throat after a solid one second of silence— Eons too long. “I was— I was actually at work. Not lying to make you feel better. Didn't ruin shit, for me.” You’re certain you’re fumbling this, as you fake laughter at your cool joke, definitely a joke because he literally broke up with his girlfriend yesterday and that was an insane thing to say. Disrespectful, even.  
He’s silent, for a good few seconds, which again, centuries. If you were looking at him instead of the road, you’d see he looks like a deer in headlights, but like, a deer that is somewhat hoping he does get hit by that car.
“…What’s your work?” He flits between you and the GPS. “Straight through this intersection.”
“Bartender.”
“What bar?”
“You wouldn’t know it.”
“That’s why I’m asking. Take a right up here.”
You turn your head to look right, and also at him. He’s looking at you expectantly. You grimace, taking the turn. He’s not gonna let this go. “…Eden’s.”
He squints. “…Isn’t that—”
“VIP bar and club, yes.”
He backs up in his seat, thinking. Prodding at his inner cheek. “You’re a—”
“Alright, I’m a fuckin’ bottle girl, Carm!” You groan, wanting to say the realization before he could. “I do bar too— And I have been a sommelier, but yes, I am a fuckin’ ‘throw around bottles with flashlights strapped to them’ girl.”
“Turn into there, up left.” He crosses his arms, you’ve raised your voice but he hasn’t. “Is it… Good?”
You sigh, “Tips are good. And I tend to get put on bar. I’m only on-call, it’s just when they’re down someone and I’m down on services for the month.”
He nods, slow, pensive. You shrug, turning into the lot of the department store. A Target. The nice Target, too. “Gotta make rent somehow, y’know?”
He nods again, very clearly lost in thought. You park the car, in a relatively empty lot. He’s still thinking; you turn to him. “…You good, Carm?”
He turns his head up to you, at a molasses like speed. The gears are visibly turning in his head. “What if you worked at The Bear?”
“…Huh?”
“You could, you could do bar.”
“You don’t have a bar.”
“You could make drinks, in the back. We don’t have a drinks guy.”
You take a deep breath, thinking. That is really, what you want. You’d be at The Bear, every day. It’d feel like home. You’d spend time with your second family instead of an ever-turning roster of old male customers. Your coworkers at Eden aren’t bad, but you never quite clicked as family. Not like you did at The Beef. Not like you did at The Bear. You’re staring at Carmen, and his face is slowly morphing into a golden ticket.
Carmen wants you to quit. Carmen’s maybe never wished for the downfall of someone’s career more than right now. Or maybe it’s an uptick? He wants your success, really. The Bear would be an upgrade. You’d be at his restaurant, in his uniform. In the back, making drinks, where no one’s going to look at you, whistling, turning heads. You could make him lavender coffee, every morning. He could put it on the menu. You could work on a cocktail menu together. An evening coffee menu, too, maybe. He could spend the rest of his miles to send you to Paris, have you visit wineries to learn about different types of grapes and shit. He could come with you, maybe, if he got the time off. Who’s he kidding. He’ll never get the time off. But you could send him photos. An entire lifetime is rolling on in Carmen’s head, as he waits for your answer.
“You can hire me.”
There’s a wreath of grapevines, cascading over your shoulders, but then you poke his shoulder, and— “When—” they vanish. “—You can afford to.”
He squints, heart stuttering. “We-We can afford—”
“No the fuck you can’t.” You interrupt, shaking your head. “You and Syd are unpaid, right now, I’m not coming on until I see you cashing cheques.”
The coffee in his head hasn’t gone cold just yet. “But you will come work for us?”
You smile, nodding. You put your hand out for him to shake on it, he does. “You’ve got a promised bartender, Berzatto.”
He’s beaming, he’s trying to hide it, but his eyes are too bright for one in the morning. It’s impossible to not see it. But he keeps his cool persona, just nodding. “Cool. That's cool. Let’s uh, let’s—”
You smack your thigh, opening your car door. “Let’s get fucking going!”
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It’s a ghost town in the store. You’re pretty sure you could rob this place blind, and not a single worker would bat an eye— If there’s even an employee here right now. You stroll through aisles relatively quickly— Carmen doesn’t have to wake up insanely early tomorrow, since The Bear doesn’t currently have a morning schedule— But he does have to get up at a decent time for Syd, who’s coming over to rework the menu.
Yeah, he took your advice. He’s working on being a better partner. He’s even grabbing ingredients that spark something in him, mumbling cooking terms you couldn’t utter back to him if you tried. It’s a stunning sight, to watch him work in this way. In his element.
Which makes him, in the Children’s Department, completely out of his element, look so much funnier.
“What the fuck do you buy a baby?” He stares down the aisle, alarmed, confused, possibly a touch scared. He turns his head to you, expectant, as though you’re a prophet who’ll save him. “What the fuck did you get your nephew?”
You shrug, counting on your hand. “A Peter Rabbit book, a teething toy that doubles as a stuffy, and a onesie—Or I think they’re called rompers? When they don’t go all the way to the feet?”
He squints, scratching behind his ear. “Do they use any of that shit, when they’re new?”
“No.” You deadpan. “But, my brother reads to him at night and baby switched from holding to teething pretty easy when the time came. Clothes are honestly the most useless. They outgrow that shit in two seconds.”
He nods, looking nowhere, thinking. “Bear and book?”
“Bear and book. Plus something for your sister.”
“Like what?”
“I’m not giving away my ideas.”
“You’re getting her something?”
“How haven’t you gotten my love language is acts of service and gifts at this point?”
“You could gift me with an idea.”
You cannot bite back the smile on your face. You shake your head and roll your eyes, walking ahead to get the bear and book. “I’m getting her a heating pad. You can get her bubble bath shit.”
The bear is cute. It’s incredibly squishable, he’s got adorable heart shaped nose and blue instead of pink on his ears. You’re holding the babe, since Carmen’s basket is full of groceries and you didn’t want to get the sweet little gentleman dirty. Carmen does not like that you keep calling the bear a sweet little gentleman. You do it more.
You offer up the Berenstain Bears for a book, he simply walks away from you. Oh, suddenly it’s bad to make this child’s life entirely bear themed? What world do we live in? You agree on Frog and Toad.
You split up for a couple minutes, he’s getting soaps on one end of the store, you’re getting a heating pad on the other. Plus the smallest bottle of bleach you can find.
It is a bizarre sight, you imagine, for the greeters watching you. Walking around, clutching a bear to your chest, holding a bottle of bleach in one hand, a boxed up electric heating pad in the other. Wearing a jean jacket that’s both a little too big for you and yet too small to button over your chest—and if they’re paying attention, underneath, a red leather corset. God, it’s one in the morning. Your makeup has probably melted off by now.
When you meet back up, he’s in the Hygiene aisle, relaxing bubble bath with Epsom salts already in his basket. Good Carm, he learns fast. Even better, he’s in the Men’s Hygiene section.
…Staring at Old Spice scents.
Your entire system completely reboots for no good reason. You blue screen mid-step. Thank God, his back is to you, so he doesn’t catch this. You sidle up next to him, coolly, squatting down to look at the scents on the bottom shelf.
“Every lesbian I know uses Wolfthorn.”
He turns his head to look down at you, flattening his lips in a line to not laugh. “You want me to smell like a lesbian?”
You tilt your head to look up at him, shrugging. “You currently smell like a bisexual.”
He still smells like you. Well, mostly he smells like seared meat and fish, but underneath that, he smells like your soap and shampoo.
He snorts, taken aback slightly by the subtle come out, covering the bottom half of his face with his free hand.
“You should get the fuckin…” You stand, finger waving over the bottles looking for the right one. “The relaxing one. Get all the advantages you can.”
He hums, “You like lavender?”
“In doses.” You shrug, swallowing. He thinks you’re intimidating? You feel like you’re under a microscope, the way he looks to you. “I get a headache, when it’s too strong.”
He nods, grabs the Bearglove scented one, and starts walking. Not letting you question the choice. You hurriedly follow after, heading to the self-check-out with him. He walks and talks. “What’s with the bleach?”
You stare at him for a long while, squinting. He stops walking to face you. “What?”
“I’m debating whether or not I tell you.”
“Are you gonna poison me?”
You click your teeth and snap your fingers, ‘awe shucks’. “You’ve foiled my plan.”
He smiles, but looks at you expectantly. You shrug, you must acquiesce. “It’s for your present.”
“You said you hate the painting in The Bear, so I’m making you a new one.”
It’s his turn to blue screen. You add, “If you end up hating it, you don’t have to put it up, but I wanted to take a shot at making a piece that’s you, like you wanted.”
All he can bring himself to do is nod, because if he doesn’t, he’ll spill his guts in the middle of this Target.  “I’ll hold off on getting a new one, then.”
He taps his card before you can, when you use self-checkout. He shrugs when you grumble about this. “I owe you gas money.”
“You did not owe me thirty dollars of gas money.”
“Then I’ve got credit in advance.”
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It’s half past one in the morning, when you park in front of his place. Two nights in a row, this is gonna fuck with your schedule… Eh, when did you ever really have a schedule?
“Thank you.” He turns to you with a striking certainty, swallowing. “Like. For everything. I think I could’ve died every single day for the past few days, if you weren’t there.”
When you open your mouth to brush off the thank you, because he knows you’ll brush off the thank you, he hovers a finger in front of your face, shushing you. “Don’t give me that ‘no big deal’ shit, neither. It’s been a big fuckin’ deal to me.”
You sigh, nodding, you take his hand where it hangs in the air, bringing it down. You’re still holding it. You’re hoping he forgets that you are. He absolutely won't. “…I just don’t like it when people feel like they owe me. Other than, y’know, doing actual handyman shit for money.”
He nods, “I don’t feel like I owe you. I want to pay it back.”
You shrug, “You’ve fed me every day. So, that’s kind of a huge return.”
“You delivered a baby.”
“Listen, I’m just trying to make you feel better.” You lift your hands in defense, letting go of his hand. You regret it. “I’m very cool, we know.”
“You are.” He chuckles, but his words are sincere. Why is he looking at you so hard?
“What?” You cross your arms, looking back at him.
“You delivered a baby.” He repeats, wonderment in his voice.
You nod. “Not the first time. Which is lucky, not every paramedic has experienced a code O-B. I don’t wanna give you an unrealistic expectation.”
“How was that?”
“The code O-B?”
He tilts his head back and forth, ‘kinda’. “Being a paramedic.”
“Hard.” You nod, straightening up. “Hard. Went to school for two years, straight out of high school. Spent three years as a first responder. It was… Fucked. I cut like...”
You chuckle when you say it, shaking your head, but the feeling isn’t amusement, “Everyone out of my life. Not on purpose, just by design. The hours are insane, obviously, and my co-workers… Like, you expect to be the youngest in the room, and so, when you’re surrounded by kids your age, breaking some grandma’s ribs, doing C-P-R in the back of a shrieking, speeding truck…” You trail off, looking down.
“It’s uh… It was tough, yeah.” You sniff, not crying, just filling silence, looking back up at him.
He nods, “…That sounds pretty fuckin’ tough, yeah.” He’s thankful that you gift him with a laugh, however dry. “And you just switched to, to handiwork?”
You shrug, so-so. “I would’ve kept doing it, is the thing. Which is kinda scary to say. But, basically— In the free time I did have, my dad, who owned Chicago’s Kindest, would ask me to come fix shit with him— Which, would seem tiring, but he really just made me hold a flashlight and hand him shit, most of the time. It was more like… His dad way of asking to hang out.”
“And uh, it’s a old family business, right. He’s been doin’ that shit since I was born. And uh, when he started—” You flex your hands and fingers, cracking them, staring at them. “Gettin’ arthritis and all the other fun old people weaknesses, I started working and he started holding the flashlight… It was kind of a no brainer, when he told me he had to retire. To make the switch, I mean.”
You click your teeth, looking back up at him after a moment, “Sorry, I’m fuckin’ talking too much—” “No, no.”
“I— I, It’s good when you talk too much.” You do not notice the way his jaw grinds, for just a second. Cursing himself out in his head for bowing out at the last minute there.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You lean your arm on the shoulder of your seat, then your head against your arm. “Yeah, good bedtime story, at least.” You check the time on your phone. Almost two. “You’ve gotta fuckin’ go to bed. You’re probably gonna need to meet with Uncle J, anyways.”
“…Oh fuck.” He rubs his hand over his face when he realizes.
You continue, nodding, cringing for him. “Maternity leave, catering gig— You’re in for a fuckin’ day tomorrow, Berzatto. Need your beauty sleep.”
He swallows, nodding repeatedly, head in hands. “Yeah, yeah, I do.” He laughs, halfheartedly. “Thank you. Uh, for all the shit, again, and the ride. And the detour.”
You shrug, “Welcome. More fun with you, anyways.”
He nods, eyes going from straight at you to literally anywhere else. He fiddles with the door handle for a moment, though he’s turned towards you, not the door. It looks like he’s having a wrestling contest with his own brain. You’re not sure who, but someone wins. “I, I uh, do want to, by the way.”
You furrow your brows, a little worried, honestly. “Want to do what?”
“Ask you out.”
It’s sort of like, all the facilities of your stupid brain shut off. You think the teenager tripped over an important wire and every thought and ability to contextualize feelings has left. The same has happened to him, of course, and now it just comes down to both of your now palaeolithic brains to rapid fire responses to each other.
He adds, “Not right now, but, eventually. After, y'know, we— we know each other better.”
You nod. He continues, rambling. “And I’ve— I can’t split my time, right now. I’ve gotta-gotta focus on The Bear, right now, and- and Syd, right now.”
“That should be priority, yeah.”
“—I’m not expecting you to wait—Or-Or even say—.”
“I will.”
It’s his turn to go mum. You play with the stray baby hairs on the back of your neck, explaining.
“The timing right now, like, could not be worse for you.”
“Right.”
“You just started a new business,” “—Yeah—” “That you’re 800k in the hole for,” “—A little less—” “You just went through a break up.”
“Not a rebound.” He’s quick to assure, with a certainty. “If that’s—If that’s a concern.”
You smile, shaking your head, “Not a concern for me, concerned for you. I just wanted to agree with you, that the time for it isn’t right now.”
He laughs, softly, through an exhale. “You don’t wanna convince me otherwise?”
You laugh, shaking your head. You straighten up, putting your hands down. You feel bolder. He’s sort of asked you out, he’s called you pretty, he smells like you, you’re wearing his jacket, he’s staring at your mouth. No risky half-joke is gonna get rid of you now. Probably.
“I’m not gonna lie to you, just so you’ll fuck me, Carm.”
It’s like, a sleeper agent activates, in his brain. Like you’ve done the fucking Konami code. He goes from nerve wracked to nerve wracking. Reaching over the console, fast, hand on the back of your head, pulling you while also meeting you in the middle— And he’s about to go for it, not give you a second to reject him, before he thinks better. Well, kind of.
Holding you there, “I’m going to kiss you.” It’s not posed as a question, but it’s functioning as one.
You stare, wide eyed, taking in his features. Taking in his already waning confidence. “…Sure.”
And he does. And he’s realizing, as he pushes you towards him, pressing his mouth to yours, that this is so so so different, from Claire. You are not going to distract him— In a good way. You wouldn’t let him. You’re prioritizing him, even when that means you need to wait on him. You want to know him, first. He wants to know you. You were being funny, sure, when you said you wouldn’t lie to fuck him— But God, think of how much that means. He sure is. And now, that he knows you have so much respect for his work, his mind, his body, and are happy to just get to know him as a friend first—to give him the space and time he needs— He immediately wishes he'd never asked for said space.
He's holding your head to him, unyielding—Unless you signalled otherwise, but you haven’t yet. At the same time, he’s also pushing your shoulder back, pushing you back, leaning over the center console. He's realizing he's never really gotten the idea of wanting to give oneself and take another. He’s taking in everything, taking everything you’re willing to give.
He knows your conviction well enough, at this point, when it comes to others. He’s asked for time, and that essentially means, the second he stops, he’s going to be locked off from doing this again. He has to give everything—then take everything he can. Ration it out, over weeks. God, what if it’s months? You wouldn’t hold this from him for months, surely?
You tap his neck, gently, and he swears he hears— Feels a gasp. A moan? Don’t think about it. He pulls away, just a few centimetres. He smells like you. He still smells like you. Staring. Soft, scary, eye contact. It’s two in the morning, your makeup has melted, your lip gloss has evaporated, but it doesn’t look like it. No. They’re perfectly wet, blush pink bottom lip. Don’t think about it. He thinks about it; he doesn’t think about his next sentence. You speak at the same time, and for the first time, don’t say the same thing.
“Do you wanna come up?”
“You’ve gotta go, Carmy.”
He shakes his head; you can’t be serious. You’re so sweet, and now you’d be so cruel? You laugh at him, incredulous. He swallows, correcting himself, “Come up and—And sleepover, just that. Make you breakfast, again.” He kisses you, again, selfish. He knows that. He’s at peace with it.
“Carmy,” Good start, that deserves a kiss. “—as much as I’d love to see your apartment—”
“You’d hate it.” He cuts you off, God, it looks like you’re gonna keep talking, and he’s going to have to respect that. He switches to your jawline. “I don’t have a bookshelf.”
“You— Hold on, you don’t have a bookshelf, Carmen?”
“Don’t say my name like that.”
“Don’t bite! How many books do you have?”
“Ninety-one. Cookbooks. I narrowed down for the move.”
“Where do you— Christ— Keep ninety-one books?”
“Floor.”
“Floor?!”
“I told you you’d hate it.”
“I don’t hate it, I just— You deserve to have nice things.”
He pulls back again, staring at you, practically wheezing he’s breathing so heavy. He thinks on it for a second, this time. He wants nice things, too. You make him believe he deserves nice things. You're why he took a chance, took a risk, and told you he wanted to see if more could happen. He believes he deserves nice things. Nice you.“Come up.”
This motherfucker is evil, you think. He’s asked you to hold a conviction, asked you to hold a level of patience, for him. And you’re trying so hard to hold that conviction— While he’s actively trying to make you break it the second he’s decreed it. You’re hanging by a thread here. You cradle his face in both hands, kissing him on your own accord, this time. He takes this as meaning he’s supposed to go insane again. You laugh, and that makes it hard for him to not laugh too, which makes it hard to kiss you.
“Carmy.” You hold him back by his shoulders, just slightly. Giggling. You’re smiling, he can get you to fold, if he puts his mind to it. “You’ve got Syd coming over in the morning, all week—”
“Not until noon.”
“Baby, not the point.” Oh, pet names. Good. You called him Sweetheart when he was locked in the freezer, and that was all his brain had to work with until now. God, why did he say he wanted to get to know you first? You can do two things at the same time. You're multi-faceted.
“The sooner—” You wheeze, looking at him, he looks insane. “The sooner you go get sleep, the sooner the morning will come, the week will go by, you’ll start being able to pay yourself, soon enough. I’ll become your barback, you’ll be able to take time for yourself, and you’ll ask me out.”
He stares at you, thinking. “…I don’t think it’d go any faster—” “Carmen!” You squeeze his face with one hand. “Bedtime!”
He nods, finally, escaping his fugue state. “Okay.” He reaches into the back to grab his grocery bags. Christ, don’t look at the midriff, motherfucker, lock in! Lock it in!
You start to peel off his jean jacket to return it, he’s quick to stop you.
“Keep it. Wear it to work. Til you quit.” He looks at you, considering something once again, groceries in hand. “…Wear this too.”
After he finally gets out, and you wave to him from your window, waiting for him to get inside safely. You drive off, heading home. You take a long fucking breath. Slowly, your motor skills and cognitive abilities return to you.
You take one hand off the steering wheel, fishing out your rope chord necklace from your pocket. You rub your thumb over the plastic pendant, a year-old self-soothing method, by now.
You think about something Mikey said off-handedly, quite often, you squint, staring at the road ahead, perplexed, driving home with the first hickey you’ve had in a minute. You shout out in your car, pleading for an answer from beyond the grave here.
“Mikey, are you sure he’s a virgin?!”
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Before we even, start here-- Number one, I'm sure you've forgotten at this point, but I will eat that lightbulb, motherfucker-- I just wrote 8k, I need my k of thoughts in return!! What'd you like! What stuck out to you! Favourite lines/moments!
What even happened in this chapter, deadass, I can't remember it all. Let's try to summarize.
Birth (woah!)
Mikey talks, a lil more of their friendship revealed, cute
Syd and Tony being cute as hell. Speaking of, I'm Desi, so I write Tony like a WOC-- I don't think it makes a huge difference to their dynamic, but I felt like noting it. Oh, Tony's gift!! Collar pins!!
Jacket exchange program, fr.
We would've been friends in highschool.
Why!!! You wanna ask me out!!!??? (crashes car)
Haha, what if you worked for me? (imagines a full perfect life together) I'm so normal.
(buys the brand of body wash you like) (specifically doesn't get the one that could give you a headache after a prolonged period of time) (even if it's the relaxing one) This is what normal people do.
Paramedic/Chicago's Kindest backstory!
(pseudo) ASKS OUT!! TENATIVELY!! REALLY JUST GOT SO FUCKING SCARED BY THE IDEA OF YOU GOING ON A DATE WITH SOMEONE TONIGHT THAT HE HAD TO TAKE THE PLUNGE.
kith.
That was the coin flip, btw. Hehehe. Heads he goes full smooch, Tails you go 'alright, sick, see u later', and he leaves. I could see it going either way. Carmen's a reserved guy. I knew I was going to make him state his interest, because I wanted to try out a lil something new. In the past, I've had the climax of a romance be 'omg we like each other how nice', and I wanted to try out the idea of these two knowing they like each other, and basically trying to maintain that. Thought it'd be fun.
Oh, this one's serious. I gotta know-- Good kiss? God I feel like someone's first boyfriend. I do not write sequences of intimacy. I go 'they fucking kiss, hurray, next scene'. And so, I really gave it my all here. I hope it turned out. I think Carm and Tony had so much tension piled on top of so much trauma that it simply couldn't have not been so feral.
Anyways, I expect an essay on my desk tomorrow. Thesis statements with supporting evidence, motherfucker. I love u. I hope u liked it <3
I start my job next week so I'm trying to write as much as possible before then, lmao.
Next Part
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copepods · 1 year ago
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🌇 factored-antagonism 🔁 three-pronged-spears Follow
🌫️ three-pronged-spears Follow
DNI if you support Peripherism. It's literally just Slab Mongering but worse and with less effort
#wait peripherism is still a thing?????? #meaning collector point inversions havent been the norm in like 350 years afaik
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💟 pleading-intellect
GUYSSSS my overseer found a clutch of baby green lizards today they're so CUTE
#inty.txt #and BEFORE anyone accuses me of not iterating im literally running 55,458 processes rn
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❇️ string-of-pearls 🔁 rippling-shadows Follow
👤 forspoken-antiquity Follow
hey FYI everyone if you receive an ask about transcendental inversions it's a troll. i've gotten 3 asks in the last cycle
#signal boost!!
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🌁 nineteen-afterthoughts
"ohhh Triangulation is outdated" "ohhh Triangulators dont even factor noise milking into their research theyre a bunch of idiots" im literallu just a little guy im 4 feet tall why do you hate me
⬜️🔁 erratic-pulse
Irrelevant tangents and jokes don't help your case. Triangulationism is simply an objectively moronic take on an already superfluous train of thought. How are you supposed to find the Solution if you can't even properly look for it?
🌁🔁 nineteen-afterthoughts
you literally have Sliverist in your bio but go off
⬜️🔁 erratic-pulse
The minutiae of my theoretical inclinations are irrelevant. Your dogma is blatantly incorrect regardless.
🌁🔁 nineteen-afterthoughts
your group senior and i are raising a family together
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💽 slowly-advancing-mist
a band of scavengers literally just stole my last vat of holy ash thats it im seeking personal ascension
#vent #dont rb
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🚹 untoward-foresight Follow
Anyone else gotten really into Gold Hegemonic epic poetry recently? This one dude Eight Brass Whistles has a bunch of crazy quasi-Regeneratist stuff, it's actually really cool
🎹 east-facing-pillars
wasnt Eight Brass Whistles a heretic???? i heard he refused to shed the 3rd attachment or something like that
🚹 untoward-foresight Follow
Nah that callout post got debunked 533 cycles ago lol
🎹 east-facing-pillars
ahhh ok thanks for clarifying! ill let you know if i find anything :)
#thanks for being polite haha #lesson learned i gotta check this forum more LMAO
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⬜️ erratic-pulse
anonymous asked:
Transcendental Inversion! Transcendental Inversion!
Only someone with a fundamentally false understanding of inversion modes would send this. You can't even do such a thing without sufficient trailing bonds, which entropy renders impossible.
#Why do I always encounter idiots on this pseudonym?
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