#everything about the episode 3 cold open

[luveline]

Hi Jade ! I loove your sunshine!readers, could I request one for Carmy ? Maybe someone calls her to get to the restaurant when hes feeling anxious to calm him down idk if thats good lol love ya !

ty for requesting <3 fem, 1.4k

Is it The Beef or The Bear? In your head, despite the wishes of everyone who works there (except for Ebra, who seems to have mixed opinions), you always call it The Beef. But the sign brags otherwise, and when you push open the doors, nothing inside is left to remind you of the old restaurant. It was a total gut. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” says a familiar, warm voice. 

You almost walk straight into her table, distracted looking for brown curls through the kitchen door’s little window. “Hey, Tina.” You grin at your second favourite chef. Your most favourite Sous. “You taking a break?” 

She offers you a round butter cookie from a sleeve of them. Her cup of coffee billows with steam. “Uh-huh.” 

“Hiding from a meltdown?” you ask, taking a cookie, fingers oily with butter, sugar grains falling to the floor. 

“It’s not like that,” she says. 

Well, what is it like? you think. 

Richie’s text wasn’t exactly descriptive. Need ur help with the little Bitch, he’d said. Then, when you didn’t answer, ASAP!!!!

You figured it must’ve been another rant. He’s prone to these… episodes of anger where he doesn’t realise he’s spinning out and hurting people who really care about him. You try to bring him out of it, but he’s a Berzatto. They’re all the same, sort of. Everything that’s wrong with them has been stamped into them a long, long time ago. 

He’s been better since Nat steel armed him into AA, but still. You tilt your head to one side, sugar cookie between your fingers, listening for the goings on in the kitchen. “Sydney’s here?” you ask. “I thought she was sick.” 

“Sydney gets sick, but she doesn’t take sick days,” Tina says with a loving shrug. 

You smile at her in brief goodbye for now and make your way to the kitchen, where you push in quietly. All their ‘Behind!’ and ‘Corner!’ and ‘Hands!’ makes you laugh, and you can’t take it seriously so you don’t, but you’re not trying to be dangerous in there either. 

“Hello?” you ask. 

Sydney and Richie look up from a cramped notebook at the table nearest to the door. There are employees you're unsure of prepping vegetables along the wall, but Carmy isn’t anywhere to be seen. 

“Fucking finally,” Richie says, before rubbing his face regretfully. “I’m sorry, it’s just– I texted you an hour ago, babe, you’re letting me down.” 

You laugh. “Sorry, babe,” you tease. “I have a job, just like you.” Your hands are cold where you tuck them under each armpit, crossing your arms. “Hi, Sydney. You feeling okay?” 

“No. He’s stressing me out.” 

“Which one?” 

“Both of them.” She looks like she might rub her face too. “I need him to be in here right now, he should be doing this, but he keeps walking away and– and not saying where he’s going.” 

“He is stressful,” you agree, though usually Carmy’s stress tends to bounce right off of you, “I’m gonna find him and strap him down for you.” 

Sydney just frowns. 

“I’ll see what’s up,” you say more seriously. “In the office?” 

“Out the back,” Richie says. “Smoking like his mother. He’s a fucking steam train lately.” 

It’s like they want to worry you. You give them grateful nods, sorry nods, and start to make your way out of the main kitchen, past the dishwashers and the dessert station to one of the back doors. Carmy isn’t your responsibility. You don’t have to apologise for him, you don’t have to mother him, he should commit to his responsibilities all on his own, but… it’s hard. You like apologising for him because his behaviour isn’t always on purpose, and he struggles with commitment for similar reasons. There’s this aching, stagnated grief in him that’s reawakening, there’s the stress of the restaurant, his business, the scars of the last ten years, and before that. You know it isn’t your job to come here and make him feel better, but isn’t it? When you love someone, it’s half the deal. 

Carmy shouldn’t yell at his friends, or employees. He shouldn’t chain smoke, and he shouldn’t be sitting on the low wall by the dumpsters shaking so hard with his head so low that you can see the first notch of his spine in his shirt. 

“Carmy?” you ask. 

His head ducks further down. You can hear him breathing, not too hard as to alarm you, and yet unrelaxed. 

You smile without thinking. You hate seeing him like this, but looking after him is a pleasure. “Hey, Carmen. Can I sit with you?” 

He forces his face up. “What are you doing here?” he asks. 

Trying to make sure he doesn’t tear another chunk out of Richie. “It’s my lunch break.” 

You perch on the wall beside him and snap your nearly forgotten cookie into two pieces, one side bigger than the other, which you offer him. 

Carmy takes it. Looks at it without expression, though that slowly turns to a dry ire you’ve felt directed your way a hundred times. “What the fuck is this?” 

“Cookie.” 

“I don’t want this.” 

“Could you just eat it?” You put your own half in your mouth in its entirety, all aligned to your teeth. It shatters into sweet, soft crumbs between your teeth. You talk with a hand over your mouth, “It’s not gonna kill you.” 

Carmy looks at it for a long time before he eats it. 

You watch him. He’s more tan than you’d think, that Italian gene kicking in, skin clinging to whatever sunshine it finds. He spends enough time inside that you’re surprised it can muster the energy. He looks better with it though, his curls look gold toned under the sun, and his clenched jaw doesn’t seem so harsh. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask eventually. Almost conversationally. 

“Nothing.” His hand shakes on his thigh. He turns his palm down to clasp his knee. 

“You sure?” 

“No.” 

“That one’s my favourite.” 

“What?” 

You poke toward a tattoo on his hand. It’s a simple flower, same style as most of his tattoos. “I like it ‘cos it’s just a flower.” 

“My least pretentious,” he guesses. 

“Something like that.” 

He tips his head back. 

“Richie texted me. He thinks I’m gonna… like, I’m gonna calm you down, I guess.” 

“You always do,” he says. 

You give him a long, smiley look. “So you’re in love with me?” you ask warmly, pushing up into a knee to wrap your arm behind him, hugging him before he can move away. “You’re totally fucked for me, Berzatto, that’s fucking crazy.” 

“Fuck off,” he laughs. 

You rub his arm, his skin hot in your hold. He touches your waist very, very lightly. “What am I supposed to do, anyway? I can’t cook. You and Syd are on your own.” 

“You already… already did enough.” He grabs your waist where you wobble on the brick wall, grit biting your knees, his hand comparatively soft. 

“Such a crush on me,” you tease in a whisper, his hair crushed under your cheek. 

You’re tempted to kiss his temple, but affection with Carmy is like oil and water sometimes. You give him a last protective squeeze and sit yourself down again. 

“Carm,” you say, “you know you can call me, right? Like, if you don’t feel okay.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” 

“Or text me. If that’s easier. It’s hard to say hard things out loud.” 

He laughs again. “Sorry.” 

“I know, I don’t– I don’t seem like I know what you’re talking about, I get it, but I do understand. N’ even if I didn’t, I don’t mind listening. Or laughing at you.” 

“What’s that about?” 

“The laughing?” you ask. “You tell me.” 

His hand slides behind your back in half a hug. “Guess it’s funny.” 

“Can I change my mind about the tattoo?” 

“The flowers not your favourite?” 

“No. You know which one I like best?” 

His thumb rubs into your back. “The snail.” 

“Absolutely the snail. You’re so fucking silly sometimes, I’m supposed to take you seriously when you’re yelling and red in the face with a snail on your arm?” 

You can’t see his face with your cheek to his shoulder, won’t know that he’s smiling at you with a rare aura of peace. Can’t see the wanting, either. 

[angelichannie]

so! i think is lovely that each member loves in such unique way- dk is so unapologetically clingy while vernon is so nonchalant that i just can’t help but wonder how do 🫵you🫵 think each member shows their love to their s/o? are they the type to scream it from the rooftop or do they just whisper sweet nothings to you in ur sleep?

How svt shows their love to you

genre: fluff

Seungcheol: puts you first in every situation. You’re cold? Suddenly you’re wrapped in his jacket. Feeling down? He’s cancelling his plans to be with you.

Jeonghan: would show interest in your interests. Would listen to you yap about anything and everything for hours on end.

Joshua: very affectionate. Cooks for you, takes you on dates ALL THE TIME. You definitely have a collection on bracelets he’s made for you :((

Junhui: always gets shy around you. Whether you’ve been together for a month or five years he’ll always get flustered when you compliment him, kiss him etc..

Soonyoung: would probably wear a tshirt with your face on it 😭

Wonwoo: loves you quietly. Always looking at you wherever you are. Always listening intently and showing interest.

Jihoon: I know it seems predictable but I do think jihoon would express his feelings through song. He’d have a hard time expressing what he truly feels for you in words so writes music for you and only you.

Seokmin: he’d be very open about how much he loves you. Complimenting you every chance he gets, always caught watching you with the biggest smile on his face.

Mingyu: loves loudly, the complete opposite of wonu. Definitely the type to scream his love from the rooftop.

Minghao: I think he’d be so soft with you. He’d treat you with such respect and care. The type to never let you go to sleep upset.

Seungkwan: does everything with you. Your hand is practically glued to his.

Hansol: remembers EVERY little thing about you and acts normal about it. “Why wouldn’t I know your favourite scene from your favourite episode of your favourite show??”

Chan: always yapping about you. Could be talking about anything and will always bring it back to you.

A/N:

Thank you for the request lovely! I hope you like it <3

[barblaz-arts]

Fellow Chaggie shipper, here and I wanted to ask you a question. Could you please do an analysis post on the Chaggie argument from Hello Rosie. I know this will sound weird but I can't get over the level of icy anger Charlie had towards Vaggie or how despite everything going on, Charlie is more hurt from Vaggie not being honest with her. Just angst all around.

Oh yeah sure I'd love to!

I'm not sure there's a lot I can say about that argument that isn't already super obvious, so I wanna talk about Charlie's anger because of something my brother said as we watched episode 7. He loved that episode apparently because "When they're separated, it's even more obvious that Charlie is the one who's more quick to lose her cool." Which, looking back, is actually true!(To an extent)

Vaggie and Charlie are both quite quick to anger. Charlie is just better at hiding it because she's a chronic people pleaser. Although Charlie wouldn't immediately show her anger at a person being a jerk to her specifically, she's immediately summoning fire and brimstone over anyone who hurts/insults her friends or the cause she's fighting for.

Love this lil bit in "You Didn't Know". How Vaggie is the one telling Charlie to calm down, as if she knows what's about to happen. She knows that if she doesn't at least try to reel in her girl Charlie would be spitting literal fire at a goddamn seraphim.

It would seem like such a surprising role reversal, but if you look at all the times Charlie would lose it whenever Vaggie's not there to tell her "babe, chill", then it makes sense.

But then when their fallout happens, Charlie's short temper is even more apparent. She calls Alastor an asshole to his face even though she considered choosing his support over her father's. She openly glares and rolls her eyes at Rosie when she jokes that her and Alastor look like an item even though she still kept things cordial with Valentino after he licked her arm. She flips the bird at some old lady even though she didn't take visible offense at all the demons that inserted their crude and rude selves in "Happy Day in Hell." While she was cold and subdued even when upset with Vaggie, she was explosive and in ur face when she was pissed at everyone else.

Vaggie reigned in both the girl in Charlie who dreams a little too big and the demon who's waiting to lash out in flames. It really makes me wonder if there's a difference in the kind of person Charlie used to be before Vaggie. Before she had friends to be angry on behalf of and a person to calm her down. And then, in the wake of their argument, Charlie is left with a lot of anger that is easy to ignite.

But I love love love that despite all that anger, Charlie can't bring herself to deny that she loves Vaggie with all of her hurt heart.

This little moment is one of my favorite parts in the series. My brother mentioned that this episode and episode three were his favorites because he liked the beats the dialogues followed. So he looked back--

(the man literally paused the episode to check the opening credits of ep 7 and 3. I was a little annoyed because I just wanted my Chaggie dammit! We'd make terrible youtube reactors with all the pausing and discussing mid-episode that we do...)

--and was satisfied to see that it was written by the same person, Ariel Ladensohn. Apparently she's in a sapphic relationship too and projected her own experiences whenever she wrote Vaggie and Charlie, and it must have paid off because the moments she wrote with them felt so real.

Charlie expressing her fear that even Vaggie's support and love could also be part of the lies she told was understandable considering the betrayal she felt. But immediately following that she goes "Oh that's a horrible to thing to think!" which I love even more. Even when she's understandably mad she thinks about how Vaggie would feel over Charlie thinking that of her. Because although Vaggie lied about who she is, Vaggie was always sincere about how she felt for Charlie. Vaggie's past may have been a lie, but the things she did for, to, and on behalf of Charlie were very real and held dear in Charlie's heart.

I dont have anything smart to say to conclude this. Sorry, I'm not even sure where I went here. Let's all just appreciate the smile Charlie has on her face when she thinks about Vaggie even when she's under a lot of stress I guess.

[greg-montgomery]

Mr. Scratch - Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

a little hurt/comfort inspired by ep. 10x21 - mr. scratch aaron's hallucination is you getting killed right in front of him. pre-relationship <3 words: 1.6k warnings: basically everything bad that happens in that episode: being drugged, hallucinations, blood, feeling paranoid

Aaron stayed unfazed by the sight of the gun pointed at him; his stare cold and unwavering.

“Oh, that was good. Oh, that was so good,” Peter whispered. “That was so impressive.”

His eyes almost sparkled with excitement as he went on, “The way you got into my head…It makes me want to know how I get into yours.”

A sound from right outside interrupted him and Aaron already knew where it was coming from. His team was there, you were there.

“You were right,” Peter said. “They did come calling for you.”

“They’ll kill you,” he threatened him with the same certainty he knew the sun would come up in the morning.

Peter’s next words though made his heart tremble with fear. “Are you sure about that?”

The dead silence in the house allowed him to focus on every little sound being made. His ears despite having been injured in the past could almost hear the door open. They could almost hear the sound of footsteps. He was certain, you were inside the house.

Peter had disappeared in the darkness and he could only pray you would get to him first. What if you weren’t fast enough? What if he drugged you too? What if-

A gunshot from the next room tore his heart in half.

He cursed himself for being unable to move, frozen in the same place as if he was stuck in the middle of a nightmare. Someone was being hurt and he was too weak to help; too slow to save them.

More gunshots followed, he thought he heard someone scream.

And then he heard you. “Hotch!”

Your voice was desperate, scared. But it meant you were alive, and that was more than enough to him.

“Here,” he said with every inch of power he had left in his body.

“Where?”

“Here,” he repeated. “In the study.”

First he saw the outline of your body, moving like a shadow towards him. Your eyes were wide with worry, like every time you saw him in danger. His sweet Y/N, who cared for him in a way he never knew he needed before.

“Where? Where is he?” he breathed as you knelt next to him.

“I shot him. He’s down,” you said.

Before he had the chance to feel relief, before he had the chance to look into your eyes for just a moment of comfort, a body hid the light behind you. He wasn’t dead.

“Y/N!” Aaron yelled, but the bullet had already left Peter’s gun.

You fell to the ground and your hand covering the wound in your neck did nothing to stop the blood from running.

“No,” he screamed with desperation. “No, no, no.”

Tears ran down his cheeks getting mixed with your blood that had been splashed on his face, but he was unable to move. He wanted to run to you, to take you in his arms, to steal you away, but he was stuck watching your terrified expression as you were bleeding to death.

“No,” he cried. “No, baby, not you. Help!” he screamed. “Somebody help!”

His body was shaking, but as if he was under a spell, he couldn’t even lift his arm. A feeling of helplessness took over his body that he had only experienced once before; the day he lost Haley.

“Not my Y/N,” he choked on his sobs.

“Now I know what scares you,” Peter said, towering over him.

The gun he pointed at Aaron turned towards your body again and you were met with a final shot.

“No!”

His eyes closed, his blood boiling with fury. “Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch.”

When he opened them again, he had to blink a few times before he realized that your body was gone. His head was dizzy and his vision was blurred, but he was certain of one thing: you were no longer lifeless, laying right in front of him.

“It’s okay. You can move now.”

He had been fooled, just like all of his victims before. Aaron knew what he had to do now, the fact that you were still alive giving him some clarity.

“I’m about to come through that front door.”

He was lying, but still Aaron accepted the knife Peter gave him and turned to the door. You were about to come in, and this time for real; he had to play along. This time he had a second chance. A second chance to save the person he loved that was so brutally taken away from him the first time.

“My gun,” he asked. “I need my gun.”

“Look. Here I come,” Peter said. “Kill me.”

Aaron reached out for his gun and pointed at the spot he had shown him. As soon as he saw the door open, he turned around and shot Peter as fast as he could.

“Hotch!” you ran to him. “We need a medic in here!” you asked.

“Take it,” he said, terrified, giving you his gun. He didn’t trust himself with it; not when it was you right in front of him. “Take it.”

You did as he said, placing your hand on his arm, trying to figure out a way to comfort him.

“He made me see things,” he cried. And then in a breath he said again, “He made me see things...”

“It’s over,” you said softly. “You’re okay. Look at me.”

Aaron met your gaze and you didn’t seem to think twice before reaching out to him and taking him into your arms. He couldn’t help but melt into your embrace.

“It’s okay,” you kept repeating to him, and it wasn’t the words you used, but the sound of your voice that calmed his shaking body down. “I’m here, I got you.”

“He’s gone,” Spencer informed you.

--

“He looks traumatized,” JJ said, staring at her boss. Peter had just been arrested but it didn’t seem to have calmed him down. His attention was completely devoted to you, as you held his hand and talked to him at the back of the ambulance.

“His hallucinations were probably traumatic,” Rossi said.

“He needs to talk about it,” Derek added.

“I’m sure he will. He has Y/N to talk to.”

Their attention turned back to you. You were holding a piece of cotton now, patting it softly over his wound. He kept insisting to the medics he was fine, but seemed fine with you touching him.

Your free hand was still holding his.

“I didn’t know they were…” JJ said before David interrupted her.

“This isn’t the time or the place for a conversation like this. Let’s just be grateful he’s letting someone in.”

“You’re right,” Morgan said.

--

You insisted on driving Aaron home and if he was honest with himself he had no issues with it, since he had also no intention of ever leaving you out of his sight again.

He was thankful Jack wasn’t home. The last thing he wanted was for his son to see him in that state.

Closing the door behind you, you made your way around his couch and sat next to him. You seemed almost awkward in your moves.

The fact that you were a soft spot for him was not a piece of information he had ever shared with you before. But after that night it would be ridiculous for either of you to pretend you were just a unit chief and his subordinate. Your dynamic had shifted.

“Thank you,” he said. “For driving me home.”

“I would never let you drive in that state.”

Any other day your sweet words would have made him smile, but Aaron didn’t have it in him at that moment. He was exhausted and scared.

“Aaron,” you said, reaching out for his hand. The sweet gesture and the use of his first name made his heart flutter. “You can talk to me…about what you saw.”

Flashes of your bleeding body appeared right in front of him. He was back in that house, frozen to the ground, hearing your desperate chokes as you bled away.

“Hotch? Aaron?”

It all vanished the next second, as he blinked to send them away.

“I saw your death.”

His words visibly shook you, and you slightly opened your mouth but without making a sound.

Aaron’s voice broke. “He shot you right in front of my eyes. You were bleeding to death and I couldn’t move.”

His breaths were getting shorter as he sobbed and you moved closer to him, placing your palm right over his heart. “I was too late again. I didn’t save you.”

“You did. You shot him, remember? You saved me,” you smiled sweetly. “You saved all of us. He drugged you and you still managed to shoot him.”

He couldn’t help but let all the tears out. “I’m scared I never woke up from it. I’m scared you’re not real.”

“I’m real. I’m right here, I promise.”

“Y/N…”

Your movements were careful as you lifted your hand to cup his cheek, and the comforting motion of your thumb rubbing the side of his head brought him back to reality. You were real, his inner voice repeated.

“I am terrified of losing you,” he admitted.

“You won’t.”

He tried to speak again but his sobs wouldn’t allow him to.

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s okay.”

Your eyes were watery too, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss your tears away. But you put him back to his place, silently reminding him that he was the one who needed comfort this time, as you wiped his tears away with your hand. “I’m here.”

“Will you stay?”

“Do you think I would leave you here alone? I would stay even if you didn’t want me to,” you answered.

“I would never not want you here, Y/N.”

Aaron fell into your arms and you held him there with no intention of letting him go. “I know.”

[sematarygirls]

      BOYFRIEND!RAFE x DEPRESSED!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ depression, rafe gives reader a bath, but it's not sexual, fluff, the teeniest bit of angst if you squint at the beginning

NOTES .ᐟ this isn't my best work, but i'm writing it more for comfort than anything else, and i wanted to post it just in case anyone out there is also struggling and could use it <3

Something was up, and Rafe could tell. You were usually so clingy, wanting to spend every moment with him, and he was not complaining by any means. He loved having his girl at his side, showing her off at every occasion, but it had been almost two weeks since he last saw you, which was so very out of the ordinary.

You would answer his texts at first, always coming up with some excuse for why you couldn't see him. First, you were sick. He offered to come over and take care of you, but you'd insisted that you didn't want him to catch whatever you had, so he eventually acquiesced and settled on checking in on you periodically.

But then, your responses slowly became more and more infrequent. Rafe was at a loss. Had he done something to upset you? Why were you being so cold and distant? He couldn't think of any fights you two had recently. Everything seemed perfect until you started pulling away out of the blue.

He texted you to tell you he was coming over, but you hadn't seen it by the time he showed up at your house, all but pounding on the door. He was a little angry, very annoyed, and more than a bit jealous. Were you with some other guy in there? Is that why you hadn't been answering him.

Those feelings immediately dissipated, however, when the door slowly creaked open and you peeked out. Your hair was tangled and greasy, haphazardly thrown up and out of the way. You had dark circles under your eyes and a small frown on your face, your brows pinching when you saw him.

His expression softened as he softly murmured your name. You stepped back, allowing him inside, and he shut the door behind him, his eyes never leaving your disheveled form. "Baby, what's wrong?" He asked gently, approaching you like he would a skiddish animal.

"You shouldn't have come," you said quietly, your gaze downcast. You were embarrassed that he was seeing you like this. The whole reason you'd been avoiding him was so he wouldn't see this part of you—the part that struggled to get out of bed whenever a major depressive episode hit.

He ignored your words, stepping closer and tilting your chin up, so he could look at you. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he coaxed softly. "Is this why you've been dodging my calls and texts?"

You nodded slowly, feeling guilty. You hadn't meant to ignore him, but texting people had become a chore as of late. You couldn't bring yourself to do it, to have to explain why you were acting so off. You just wanted to shut out the world and wallow in your misery.

He sighed, his thumbs coming up to caress your cheeks gently. He hated seeing you like this. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to take away all your sorrow and make you happy again. "Why didn't you tell me, baby?"

"I just- I didn't want you to see me like this," you said softly. "I look like shit. It's gross and pathetic..."

"Hey, don't say that shit about yourself, alright?" he said firmly. "You're beautiful, always, and you're not pathetic. You're going through a hard time and that's okay. I'm here for you, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears at his words. He was so gentle, so understanding and patient. He was perfect, and you were... you.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'm gonna run you a warm bath, okay? Gonna wash your hair and get you all cleaned up."

"You don't have to do that," you said quietly. You didn't want to be a burden, for him to feel like he had to take care of you just because you were dating.

"I know that, but I want to, alright? Just-Just let me take care of you, yeah?" He stared at you expectantly, waiting until you gave him a reluctant nod before he took your hand and pulled you toward the bathroom. "Sit," he ordered, pointing to the lowered toilet seat.

You complied, sitting and watching him as he turned the water on, testing the temperature with his hand and adjusting it until it was just the way he knew you liked it before he flipped the drain stopper. He poured in some of your favorite scented bubble bath, waiting for the water to fill the tub.

He turned back to you, kneeling down to take your hands in his. "Okay baby, let's get you undressed and in the tub, yeah? I'll wash your hair for you."

You chewed your lip nervously, looking at him with uncertainty. You were hardly in any shape to be perceived by anyone, let alone your perfect boyfriend. You couldnt remember the last time you shaved your body or did any personal grooming for that matter. You'd just been so physically and mentally drained as of late.

He cupped your cheek, gently using his thumb to pull your lower lip from your teeth. He hated when you did that, always saying you were ruining your pretty lips. "You're always gorgeous to me," he reassured you. "I don't care what you look like. Right now, I just wanna take care of my girl, alright?"

You hesitated but nodded. "Okay," you said softly. You knew he was just trying to help, and you also knew you desperately needed your hair washed before it reached the point of no return. You'd hated how bad you'd let it get, but you couldn't bring yourself to even attempt the attention and effort that detangling and washing would entail.

With careful movements, Rafe helped ease your shirt over your head, revealing your bare skin to his gaze. His expression was non judgemental, his touch reverent as he helped you out of your clothes. "You're doing so good, baby," he murmured, his words soothing the nerves that were bubbling in your stomach. "In you go," he said, once you were finally out of your dirty clothes.

You stepped into the warm bath, the hot water and calming smell helping you relax a fraction. You pulled your knees to your chest with a soft sigh. You were so sensitive and vulnerable in that moment, and Rafe's kindness made your chest tighten and your eyes mist.

He smiled softly at you, the picture of a loyal, caring boyfriend. He would do anything for you. "There you go, sweetheart. Gonna feel so much better after a nice long bath." He knelt beside the tub, running his hand over your hunched back soothingly for a few moments.

He let you get adjusted and relaxed before reaching for your hair tie, gently pulling it out and revealing your tangled hair. You closed your eyes, waiting for some remark about how you need to take better care of yourself or how your hair was a mess, but it never came. "Alright baby, let's get this pretty hair washed for you," was all he said, his tone soft and comforting. "Can you lean back for me?"

You nodded, unfurling yourself from your curled up position and leaning back, letting your hair soak up the water. "There you go," he murmured, making sure your hair was thoroughly wetted before helping you sit back up straight. He reached for the conditioner, coating your hair in an ungodly amount and running it through the strands as best he could to help soften your hair and make it easier to detangle before grabbing a wide tooth comb. "This might hurt a little, baby. I'm sorry, but you'll feel so much better when we're all done."

He worked meticulously, starting at the ends and slowly, carefully working out each knot and tangle, murmuring soft apologies whenever he hit a bad one that tugged at your scalp. He had experience with this kind of thing, having helped Wheezie with her hair a lot when she was a kid. He was so gentle and patient, making sure he didn't pull too hard.

It made you grateful because if you were doing this yourself, you already knew you would've gotten frustrated and started practically ripping your hair out as you roughly yanked the comb through your hair until you were in tears.

The fact that he regarded you with a tenderness and compassion you didn't even award yourself made your heart swell with love, but it also made guilt tug at you. This was the man that you'd been ignoring—this man that was so attentive and loved you so much.

"You're doing so good, baby. I know it hurts, but you're being so brave for me. I'm so proud of you," he said gently, continuing to work through your hair. He didn't show any signs that he was getting frustrated or annoyed, he just continued to hold himself with pure adoration and care for you.

His sweet words made tears well up in your eyes. You didn't understand how you could ever deserve someone like him, someone who loved you completely and unconditionally. His words of assurance were something you'd desperately needed to hear after weeks of listening to your own brain demean and demoralize you.

"There we go, sweetheart. All done. You did so well," he praised you gently as he finally finished up, running the comb through the last of the tangles. He helped you lean back, rinsing the conditioner. He made sure to get all the excess product out before helping you sit back up, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

He squirted a generous amount onto his palm, lathering it in his hands and applying it into your scalp. He washed it out and applied more until it started to froth up, signaling that your hair was finally getting clean.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly as he worked the shampoo into your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp in slow, soothing circles. You felt guilty for a lot of things, for ignoring him, for making him spend his time on you like this, for being this way in the first place. Your brain had convinced you that you were a burden on everyone around you, and you hated the thought of Rafe having to put up with you when he could have any other normal girl.

His hands stilled in your hair, and he tiled your head so you were looking at him. His expression was serious, deadly so, and for a moment, you thought he was mad at you. "Don't. Don't you ever apologize, okay? You've got absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You understand me?"

You nodded, his words and actions meaning more to you than he could ever know. He always knew what to say, what to do to make you feel better. He made you feel important and loved, and you needed that, especially right now. "Thank you."

His gaze softened, a gentle smile spreading across his handsome features. "You don't need to thank me, baby. Caring for you is the easiest thing in the world. I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes—so beautiful, inside and out."

After throughly massaging your scalp, he washed out the shampoo, applying a final layer of conditioner to ensure your hair stayed soft and retained moisture. "Do you wanna wash your body, or do you want me to?" He asked gently. He wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible, and if you would be too embarrassed with him touching you like that, he respected it.

"I can- um- I can do it," you said quietly. He had already done so much for you already, and as much as you loved being doted on and cared for, it didn't erase the nerves and insecurity that were swirling through your mind.

"Okay, sweetheart. Take your time. I'm right here if you need anything at all," he reassured you. You washed up and rinsed the conditioner out of your hair, the water uncomfortably cold by the time you were done since detangling had taken forever.

Rafe was ready with a towel by the time you were finished. "Come on, baby, let's get you out. You're probably freezing," he said, helping you up and wrapping the towel around you, rubbing the material against your skin to help warm you up before grabbing a separate towel to help you dry off your hair.

You let him take care of you, drying you off before steering you to your bedroom to get dressed. He knew your drawer set up by heart, having helped you put your clean clothes away more than once. "You really don't have to do all that," you mumbled, watching him carefully choose some comfortable, clean clothes for you.

"I already told you that I want to," he said firmly, plucking out your favorite pajamas. "Now, we're gonna get you dressed and settle in on the couch because we gotta get you out of this bed. It's not good for you to stay in it all day," he told you, helping you into your clean clothes. You felt a little silly being assisted getting dressed and undressed, but you were so appreciative that he cared enough about you to help you like this.

"Sorry for the... mess," you said, wincing as you glanced around at your dirty room. It looked like a disaster area, and you only just now seemed to clock how bad it was.

"I already told you to quit apologizing," he gently scolded you. "We can clean it up later, together, but right now, we're going to go watch some TV and get some food in you, okay?"

You nodded, mustering a small smile. "I love you, Rafe," you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

"I love you too, baby, so so much," he murmured. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on the top of your head. You inhaled his scent, a smell that was distinctly his and always seemed to calm and relax you, his tight grip on you serving to ground you in that moment, reminding you that there are people who cherish you even in your darkest days.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif

[bad268]

omg im obsessed with your work! could i please request kimi antonelli and a reader who is just kind of sad and cries a lot? or just like some general comfort? xx

Strawberry Margarita Mix (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Menstruating! Reader)

Clingy Antonelli Universe

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Also, combined this with #3, Figure Skating Anon <3 I love both of you and I hope yall don't mind I made this part of Clingy Antonelli)

Warnings: Menstruating reader, midol mentioned, aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1430

Summary: The reader's period makes them a little emotional, but Kimi knows the trick.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It didn’t happen a lot, but whenever you were the clingy one, it meant everything was wrong and the world was gonna end. It was usually only a problem when you didn’t feel good, which was rare. The other common reason occurred every month like clockwork. Your period was one of the worst things you could experience, and it was always a role reversal for you and Kimi. 

He was usually the clingy one, but during your monthly hell week, your level of cling outweighed him easily. It sucked when he had a race, but the summer break was one of the few times you did not have to worry about being separated for races or the like. He made it very clear to any team he signed with that there was always one week a month that he would not be coming in for anything unless it was absolutely necessary. Mercedes was no exception.

Granted they knew about you since you and Kimi had been dating for as long as they could remember, but when he got signed to the F1 team, they continued their original agreement. 

And that’s where you were now. 

You were supposed to be on a boat somewhere in the Maldives, but no. You were curled up in your room, crying because you ran out of strawberry margarita mix. You may have been completely miserable, but you wanted to at least pretend you were on vacation, and when you saw the mix was gone from the last time you wanted to get into the vacation vibe, you just cried.

“I can get you more, amour (love),” Kimi comforted as he wrapped you in his arms, trying and failing to keep the smile off his face. He really wanted to take you seriously, but this was the seventh time you cried today.

The first was because you couldn’t find the remote. Then it was the sunrise was so pretty, it brought tears to your eyes. Then the water was too cold when you took a bath. That was Kimi’s fault, and he apologized. Next, you accidentally stained your favorite pair of sweatpants which were actually Kimi’s, and your throw blanket. You had two separate episodes from that. One because you stained the paints and blanket, and another one because you didn't want to do laundry. Lastly, you cried because you felt like you were missing out.  

This vacation in the Maldives had been planned with a group of your friends, and seeing their posts on Instagram made you feel like you were missing out. However, a small part of you also knew you would be miserable in the Maldives too. You’d rather subject Kimi to your moodiness rather than your entire friend group, but you were experiencing some major FOMO.

Then Kimi had the incredible idea of doing similar things at your apartment like drinking margaritas and tanning, and you planned to go to a beach later in the week. It sounded like a great plan at first, but as soon as you saw there was no strawberry margarita mix, it felt like the end of the world.

“No,” You wined as you hid in his chest. You wanted to stop the tears, but it was harder said than done.”I wanted strawberry margaritas.”

“We have classic lime. Does that work until we can get more?” Kimi tried to offer as he swayed you two back and forth and ran his fingers along your back in a comforting manner. 

“No,” You dragged out again with more tears as you sort of melted in his arms to sit on the ground in the fetal position. You weren’t crying about the margarita mix anymore. Your cramps started flaring up and the last thing you wanted to do was stand. “I hate this.”

I know you do amour (love),” Kimi consoled as he sat on the kitchen floor beside you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He also snaked his hand between your thighs and stomach to place his hand on your tummy as a makeshift heat pack for the time being. “I know it hurts now, but you’ll get through this. You’re the strongest person I know, and I know you always prove to be stronger each and every month.”

“I don’t feel very strong,” You muttered as you turned to bury your face in his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Why does it always have to be so painful?”

“How about this?” Kimi starts, He moves his arm from your shoulders to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him. He gently whipped away the stray tears from your cheeks before placing a light kiss to your lips. “I think you just need some pampering and cuddles, so why don’t we go and watch a movie in our room? We can have all of the snacks you want, and if you’re feeling up for it, we can go out for your favorite pasta later. How does that sound?”

“I think that sounds like heaven,” You sighed as you leaned into his hand.

“Good, you go get comfy, and I’ll grab anything and everything you could want,” Kimi left one last kiss on your nose before standing, holding his hand out to help you up as well. 

“Except the margarita mix?” You joked lightly when you stood up, smirking at Kimi as you teased.

“Except for the margarita mix,” Kimi sighed with a small smile. “Now, go before I leave you in the bed all alone.”

“No!” You shouted as you immediately clung to his arm as tears sprung into your eyes again., “Don’t say that!”

“I’m kidding amour (love),” Kimi chuckled as he kissed your forehead before looking back at you. “I promise, I’ll be in our room in like 5 minutes. You go pick a show or movie, and I’ll get all of the snacks for you. I’ll also get your hot water bottle. Let me handle all of it while you get comfy.”

Begrudgingly, you left his side to go take a quick shower to wash off before putting on a new t-shirt and sweatpants, taking care of your products as well. Then you set up in bed. You laid out a towel on our bed just in case a leak happened again before you got comfortable under your comforter and loaded up Netflix. You went to your comfort movie/show and prompted it up for when Kimi came in. Speaking of Kimi, it had definitely been more than five minutes. You gave him a couple extra minutes, thinking he lost track of time, but it didn't take long for him to walk in the room with everything. 

Every comfort snack, drink, candy, and ice cream you had ever mentioned. He had everything for you. He also had a glass in his hand, but you couldn’t see what it was. You assumed it was your comfort drink already poured out. He set all of the snacks around the bed before setting your Stanley cup on your bedside table beside a couple of Midols. He always put water in it and encouraged you to stay hydrated. Then, he put the glass in your hand.

“Thank you, baby,” You said as you took a drink from the glass and immediately made a shocked face. “Strawberry margarita?”

“Don’t be so shocked,” Kimi chuckled as he sat next to you under the covers. “It was pretty easy when you can get things delivered. I have us stocked for a while, so any time you want a margarita, you let me know.”

“Not just any margarita, Kimi,” You graned as you leaned into his side, “A strawberry margarita.”

“Oh, my bad,” He teased back as he played the movie/show. This was what you needed. Just to be held by him. That’s all you wanted and needed in this moment. It was like as soon as he wrapped his arms around you, you were gone. You snacked a little on what was around you, but honestly, crying took a lot out of you. You were ready to just collapse for the next week. You didn’t want to yet, though. You still had one more thing you wanted to say. 

“Kimi,” You whispered as you looked up at him from your place on his chest. He hummed in response, almost asleep but not totally gone yet. “Thank you for putting up with me. Ti amo (I love you).”

“Ti amo di più, mia vita (I love you more, my life),” He whispered back, pulling you tighter against his chest. “Sempre (Always).”

~~~

Part 4 ->

Series masterlist

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[emeritusemeritus]

I didn’t want to be alone [Eddie Munson X Reader]

Title: I didn’t want to be alone.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader {Established friendship but deliberately vague, can be romantic or not}. Platonic!Wayne Munson&Reader.

Timeline: Non-specified. There’s a brief mention of ‘trauma’ that I’d originally written as events from ST 1-3 but it could be anything. Insert your troubles here.

Summary: When things in your mind get bad, you know you always have a place to go.

Warnings: Brief mentions of trauma, illusions of mental illness. Sadness/ depression. This is a comfort fic. Wayne looks after us. Wayne Munson being the father figure we all need.

Word count: 3.4k

This is a complete comfort fic that I wrote to try and make myself feel better, a concept I came up with to try and get to sleep one night. My toddler isn’t sleeping, I haven’t slept properly for days and I’m losing my mind- keep me in your thoughts as I drown in coffee.

The last thing Wayne Munson expected to see when he pulled up to his trailer at 4am after his monthly half shift was your car; he especially didn't expect to see you sat stationary within the car, staring blankly up towards the dark trailer home. He frowns as he cuts the engine to his beat up truck, grabs his trusty brown thermos and metal lunchbox before he climbs out of the truck. When his eyes fix on you again, he sees that you haven't moved even an inch, not even acknowledging his approach. Your chin rests on your arm slung over the wheel, body slumped down in your seat with a vacant expression on your face, eyes heavy and pained. He can tell immediately that something isn't right with you, your body language completely thrown off as you stare into the void, unaware of everything around you.

He'd seen you look like this only once before, but Eddie had mentioned in passing that you'd had 'episodes' one or two times before, something about trauma, something that had haunted you from a few years back. Wayne was a simple man and didn't pretend to know what any of that meant, nor would he intrude and ask you about it when you so clearly didn't want to open up about what was plaguing you. He figured better people with bigger brains than he would be the only people that could understand what you were going through, but he'd try his best to help you where he could.

Wayne knows better than to make you jump in your impaired state and so he tried to delicately walk over to your car, putting himself directly in your eye line so that you wouldn't be alarmed once you realised he was there. It takes a minute or so for your eyes to focus on him, flicking over at the slow movement in your peripheral vision. Your shock at seeing him makes his eyes pull tight together in a squint, fighting the urge to frown at your unusual behaviour. 

He walks over to your car door and finally takes in your appearance, the crease lines in his face getting deeper as he frowns once again, seeing that you are in no way dressed appropriately for the bitter cold, wearing only a pair of lounge shorts and an oversized band shirt that he instantly recognises as his nephew's.

You wind the window down as Wayne leans in, careful to be gentle with you as he sees the glassy, pained look still overwhelming your face, even after you'd broken out of your trance.

"What're you doing here girl? Got your key don't ya?" He says, trying his hardest to keep his tone balanced and his voice gentle; not an easy feat for a self proclaimed gruff, southern born hick like Wayne.

Wayne cringes as he feels the low temperature inside your car, the cold drifting out from your rolled down window. Somehow the inside of your car was even colder than the crisp, early morning air outside. Only then did Wayne remember you complaining that the heat and the ac in your car had busted a couple of weeks ago, but you couldn't afford to get it fixed right away on account of your 'full time student and part time waitress' salary.

You stare at him for a lingering moment, not even making a single attempt to reply as you usually would, the only sign that you had heard him at all was a subtle twitch of your eye. You eventually turn to look away, averting your gaze from his concerned eyes to stare back towards the trailer which was pitch black inside with no sign of life.

"I didn't know what to do," you said quietly, your voice timid and weak as you fought to push out your thoughts. "I remembered what you said about coming over anytime I needed to not be alone, but then I remembered the date and that Eddie was away at his gig. Then I remembered you said that Eddie didn't even have to be here, when you gave me the spare key. I got in my car and drove here but then I got stuck, not able to go inside because I'd be a burden but I couldn't leave either."

Wayne was quiet at he listened intently to you, giving you the time you needed to explain, knowing how hard it must be for you to speak your thoughts out loud. He silently nods gently, knowing at least partially what you were feeling as he acknowledges your troubles. He thinks it strange how often you said 'remembered' in the sentence, knowing that your words sounded uncharacteristic but he assumes that it is just you voicing your thoughts as they appeared in your head.  His heart breaks a little at hearing your sad words, knowing that you must have felt real bad to have jumped in your car and drove all the way out here without thought of a jacket.

"Let's get you inside, 'fore ya catch a damn cold," he says gently, wanting to get you into the warmth as he sees goose flesh spreading across your skin and the unmistakable bounce of your leg from your body fighting the cold. He expects to be met with more resistance than you offer as you simply nod and reach for the keys that are still in the ignition. He opens the door for you, juggling his belongings in his arms as he leads you up the concrete steps to the trailer and unlocks the door, offering a tiny smile of empathy at you as he steps aside, allowing you to enter first.

As you step in, you're immediately met with stagnant warm air from the trailer being shut up all day, retaining the last slithers of heat emitted by the old space heater Wayne must have had on before he went to work. The trailer smells like home to you and immediately offers a level of comfort that you could never get anywhere else. There's a lingering smell of cigarette smoke which hangs thick in the air, mixed with a hint of Eddie's cheap cologne and old spice, old coffee and the overwhelming scent of both Eddie and Wayne, their warm natural scents mixing to create the personalised blend of the Munson trailer.

You tentatively take a seat on the couch once offered by Wayne, who immediately sets to turning on a few lamps before boiling some water for a warm drink for you both, throwing down his lunchbox and thermos on the counter in the process. He grabs two mugs from the cabinet, but immediately changes his mind as he thinks of way to cheer you up. He walks past you to reach for one of his many display mugs, grabbing your favourite of the bunch and rinses it in the sink before setting the two mugs aside to make a drink. He begins to pull out the coffee but stops himself, knowing that the last thing you need is a blast of caffeine in your system and so he reached for the small box of tea that he kept in just for you, pulling out your preferred flavour as he makes the drinks.

He takes a look at you as he waits for the water to boil, finally seeing you in the light that he'd turned on as you entered. Your eyes look dark and sunken, dark purple circles formed underneath your once sparkly eyes, telling him that you hadn't slept a wink.  Your hair was haphazardly thrown up into a messy bun, faint smudges of mascara were present under your eyes and overall you looked thoroughly exhausted.

When he walks over to you, he's delicate with his approach, offering the tea out to you with a gentle smile. He notices your eyes widening slightly once you spot the special mug and a small smile tugs at your lips which he's thankful for as it means your coming out of your dark place. You mumble a thank you as you cradle the warm Star Wars mug in your hands, the heat rolling through your cold and shivering body.

"You wanna talk about it?" He says quietly, taking a seat and bringing his own mug to his lips. He sees a frown form on your eyebrows before your eyes close and you shake your head no at his suggestion. He simply nods, respecting your decision and giving you the grace of not asking any follow up questions.

"I'm sorry," your little voice says after a few silent moments.

"Don't ever be sorry, you did the right thing by coming here darlin," Wayne replies sweetly, to which you reply with a kind and grateful smile. "You're welcome here night or day."

Neither of you speaks for a moment, though it's a comfortable shared silence rather than an awkward interlude.

"So how come you ain't with Eddie at his gig?" Wayne asks a few moments later, taking another sip of his coffee. Your eyes flash with angst again and he suddenly regrets asking as your face drops slightly, not realising that his question could trigger you.

"I had an exam, couldn't get out of it," you shrugged gently, not managing to lift your eyes up from their fixed point upon your mug, watching the steam rise from the hot tea inside.

"You do okay?" Wayne asks, feeling a little awkward at asking. Eddie had always been a handful, especially when it came to doing his homework and anything academic, and Wayne's questioning of how projects went or finals or whatever else had fallen on deaf ears many years ago.

You nodded gently in reply, a little apprehensive maybe, "yeah I think so, it was only after when things started to go bad."

Wayne knew immediately that you were referring to your episode earlier, and his heart ached more for the girl in front of him who seemed so broken down, the girl he had grown to care for like a daughter. You fell quiet again, staring into space looking so exhausted you could drop down where you sat.

"Tell ya what, why don't ya go lay down in Eddie's room for a while, take your tea with yer," Wayne suggests, leaning forward slightly as he talked, not quiet reaching out to you but feeling a little closer to do so. "I'll make us some grub once you wake up."

You immediately begin to weakly protest, already feeling like a burden but Wayne shuts it down quickly. "Ain't no different then having Eddie here, 'cept you got a better sense of hygiene and noise control," he joked, earning a chuckle from you. "I'll be right through here if you need anything, ain't sleeping yet and I ain't going anywhere." His voice was still gentle but his words held a level of insistence which meant you couldn't question him, knowing he was being entirely honest.

"Uncle Wayne, thank you," you smiled gently, standing up off the couch and making your way through to the familiar back room, carrying your mug, before closing the door.

Stepping into Eddie's room without him here felt a little odd, but the sight of the room alone was enough to comfort you even more. Cigarette smell lingered here too, mixed with the faint whiff of marijuana, Eddie's cheap cologne and a general boy smell which wasn't entirely unpleasant. His guitar, sweetheart, was missing off the wall, along with two of the three amps that were usually littered around on the limited floor space.

You placed your mug on the nightstand, beside the ashtray, and didn't hesitate to throw yourself down onto the bed, pulling the sheets up high so that you were essentially cocooned in them. The sheets smelt perfectly like Eddie. Bringing them up to your nose to scent him, you felt instantly calmer by the second.

You could hear the faint murmur of the tv in the lounge, knowing that Wayne would probably be watching the 5am news or a repeat of his favourite western, the Comancheros. The knowledge of him being right outside was enough to comfort you even more, knowing that you weren't alone anymore.

For the first time since your episode began, you felt like you could actually finally fall asleep; the comfy bed, the lingering scent of Eddie all around you and the soft comforter all equated to your relaxed, happy state. Your tired eyes closed on their own accord, suddenly overwhelmed by the heaviness that pulled at them and without any hesitation or conscious effort, you slipped into a deep sleep, putting the bad day behind you.

Only a few hours later, early in the morning when Eddie's van roared up the dirt road towards the trailer, music turned down only slightly from its usual blaring volume, until it came to a sharp stop right outside his trailer. He frowned when he saw not only your car but his uncles truck parked outside, not expecting either of you to be there when he got back.

He stepped into the trailer and immediately spotted his uncle lounging in his armchair, a western playing on the old tv, without any sign of you.

Eddie nods to his uncle in greeting, before opening his mouth to question your whereabouts until Wayne instantly brings his finger to his lips, attempting to silence the boy from speaking too loudly. He didn't say anything in the moment, merely pointing towards the closed door leading to Eddie's room, hoping that he'd catch what he was trying to say.

Eddie nods his head, frowning a moment later as he realised what must have happened and that he wasn't here to help.

"You're back early boy," Wayne states, reaching for the tv remote to mute it, reaching out to grab a cigarette from the pack before lighting it, watching his nephew do the same thing only moments behind him after placing down the guitar in it's carrier by the small table.

"Gig was cancelled, burst pipe, never even made it on stage," Eddie mumbled, clearly annoyed at the facts he was relaying.

"There's always next time son," Wayne replies, taking a drag of his cigarette, earning a gentle nod from his nephew. "She's asleep, told her to get down in your room."

At the mention of you, Eddie's eyes flicker to the closed door of his bedroom, a warmth filling his gut at the thought of you sleeping in his room, especially without him there. Though he hated the thought of you suffering alone, disliking the thought of it happening when he wasn't here to help a little too much, the fact that you sought out him and his home gave him a little possessive buzz.

"Thanks Wayne, for, yanno," he couldn't quite get the words out that he wanted to say, feeling a little uncomfortable at the emotional weight in the conversation. Wayne understands, he always does and gives Eddie a nod that tells him everything, the look in his eyes conveying his affection for you, especially the way that it silently says 'I'd do it for you too'.

Eddie puts out his cigarette and with one last thankful look towards his uncle, creeps down the hall to his bedroom and slides open the door, trying desperately not to spook you.

It's dark in the room, the only light peeking through the window is from the street light a few meters away that shines rays of light over you thanks to his broken blinds.

He feels a little creepy watching you sleep but he can't resist, seeing you cocooned in his own sheets looking blissfully peaceful, the demons you carried not haunting your dreams. Your hair is spread across the pillow and there's a brief moment where he is genuinely excited that his sheets will smell like you the next night.

He doesn't fully undress, only throws off his shoes and the jeans that were still heavy and filled with ticket stubs and random change that he'd accumulated on the journey to the venue and then straight back. He's delicate as he climbs into bed beside you, praying he doesn't disturb you or worse, frighten you.

He sucks in a breath when he feels you move, no doubt sensing the presence behind you and for a moment he holds his breath, trying to stay completely still.

"Eddie?" You murmur sleepily, the hopefulness in your voice making his heart beat just a little harder at the sound.

"M'here princess," he says gently, pressing his hand delicately to your shoulder. He lets out a little noise of content when you turn over in bed and snuggle down into his chest, bringing your warmth with you. The pair of you cuddling wasn't entirely unheard of, but Eddie was certain it had never been this intimate before, not that he was complaining.

"Wanna talk?" He offers after a few moments of silence, sensing that your breathing hadn't returned to your peaceful sleep pattern. You shake your head on his chest and try to snuggle further down, secretly inhaling more of his scent as you sought comfort that only he could provide.

"How was your gig?" You mumbled, sleepiness still making you slur your words just a little, feeling as if speaking in full was too much effort.

"Got cancelled princess, s'why I'm back," he explains gently. His ringed hand has started to absently rub back and forth across your back and you wish he'd never stop doing it.

"What time is it?" You ask, sitting up just enough to look at him, though you could only really make out his outline in the darkness. You frown, suddenly realising that Eddie was back much, much earlier than you'd anticipated and his words of explanation slowly sunk in. "It got cancelled, why?"

Once again, Eddie feels like the grinch with his heart expanding in significant increments, feeling it grow and swell at your distraught tone. You actually cared that the gig was cancelled.

"Pipe burst," he says with a shrug, a much calmer reaction to the news than he'd had only a few hours ago when he'd gone ballistic and kicked the tyres of his van.

"I'm sorry Eddie, you were really excited." He smiles down at you, even if you can't see it. Suddenly feeling overwhelming affection for you. He shrugs again and pulls you closer, holding on to you just a little tighter.

"So, do you come here often without me? Think I might be developing a complex here princess." Even in the dark you can hear the smirk in his voice and you use your head to jab him just a little in the ribs at his insinuation.

"Better when you're here," you mumble, resting your head again against his soft body. "Just needed you."

Eddie bites back a smile, knowing that you would never dare say that in the light of day but somehow between the darkness and the late, or early, hour, everything said between you both seems like a secret, your own little world created where nothing is out of bounds.

"How did your exam go?" He asks, still slowly running his ringer fingers across your back.

"Sssh, too much talking," you say with a smile, not wanting to think about the day before. He understands, it was a Munson's best quality after all to know when talking wasn't beneficial; when being arrested, in an argument with your woman and just occasionally when the moment was so perfect no words would be good enough.

"Coffees on me in the morning," he says, his eyes closing as he feels your breathing even out again, your body sinking further into him as sleep begins to take over.

"Mmmm, sounds nice," you say lightly, the tiredness and proximity to sleep so clear in your voice that it makes Eddie smile out into the dark room.

"Donuts too," he adds, kissing the top of your head as it rests on his chest, feeling prouder than he'd ever felt before. You'd found comfort in him and in turn he'd found comfort in you too, both of you slowly sailing off to sleep surrounded by each other, the pains of the day before disappearing entirely.

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[bits-and-babs]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐁𝐨𝐲 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Previous Joel Fics: Mule [5.1K], Atta Girl [10.2K]

Summary: Ellie steals one of Bills magazines and you and Joel decide to see what the fuss is about.

Word Count: 3k

CW: Possible spoilers for episode 3, but I haven’t seen it! Based on the game. Heavily inspired by my bestie @foxilayde. A much lighter fic than the last few, a little bit of dry comedy, a little bit of playful Joel, but also a little bashful. Consumption of porn magazine, companions to lovers(?), p in v sex, fingering. Not proof read.

Tease: “Can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna c** for me?”

“N-Now Ellie, that ain’t for kids-“

“Woaaah!” Ellie had exclaimed, holding up the magazine rustling in her hand by her fingertips, her arm outstretched to take in the whole double page, “How- How the hell would he even walk around with that thing?!”

That had piqued your interest, eyes snapping up to the rearview mirror. Ellie was giggling, grinning from ear to ear as Joel turned in his seat to snatch the paper emblazoned with PLAYGIRL in red lettering from her hand.

“Would you jus’-“

“Hold your horses!” Ellie had insisted, “I wanna see what all the fuss is about!”

You hadn’t said anything at the time, chuckling at the way Joel’s cheeks flushed as Ellie asked all kinds of inappropriate questions. It was only when she discarded the pornographic magazine on the floor of the truck at the end of her smutty inquisition and fell asleep on the back seat upon Joel’s insistence that you made a note of where she had dropped it in the footwell.

Joel, having stopped to rest, slept in the front seat. His head tilted forwards; a gentle snore indicated he was out cold. With some courage and a little luck, you managed to grab the magazine without waking either of the sleeping duo and exit the truck.

Settling back in the bed of the pickup truck now and minding how uncomfortable it was to lean against the metal, you set a flashlight against the floor, open up the worn pages of the filthy magazine and chew nervously on your lower lip.

Of course, you weren’t to judge Bill for his sexuality. You never had before the outbreak, and there certainly wasn’t any point in being a bigot when the world had ended. In fact, thumbing through each crinkled page, you can’t help but thank Bill for his impressive collection of smutty male pages.

Each page had a collection of pictures and articles on everything from the ‘best sex positions for your zodiac signs’ to ‘average penis size of men around the world’. Clearly photographed in the 80s, based on the moustaches alone, each man photographed in a multitude of poses was muscular, slathered in oil, and donning the tiniest speedos while exhibiting the most prominent bulges beneath the aquablade fabric.

Ellie was right, how do they walk around with those things?

One, in particular, caught your eye; the sunset-orange speedos sat snug against the globes of his ass. The muscles in his back were defined, rippling with each of his poses. They were so clear beneath his golden tan you could probably label each picture like an anatomy textbook. He was pretty, and he made your face warm up.

“That your type?” A gruff, rumbling voice makes your body jolt in shock, inhaling a petrified gasp.

Joel had stepped out of the truck while you were distracted by the glutes and pectorals of the gorgeous male models, catching you off guard as he walked up behind you. He crossed his arms over his chest, biceps straining the sleeves of his denim shirt.

“Mhm- N-No! No, I was just reading about how standard American men have a less-than-average dick length,” you lie smoothly to cover up being caught red-handed, using some of the data you had read a few pages back. “What about yours? Is your moody personality compensating for something?”

“You ain’t funny,” he answers flatly, refusing to rise to your childish jabs as he climbs up into the truck bed with you. You catch a glimpse of the pistol buried in the waistband of his jeans, and your pulse races faster than it had with any of the round bums you’d seen in the pages.

“I’d say I’m hilarious. It’s the trauma of experiencing The End. It builds chara-cter,” you ramble, only stuttering when Joel manages to pry the glossy papers from your hands. His eyes scan over the page with a look of disinterest.

“But outta date, don’t you think?” He grumbles in that grumpy, man-child way he does that always has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. He’s pointing at the very 80s-style porn staches.

“Dunno, wouldn’t exactly call your facial hair ‘trendy’,” you scoff, watching him flick to the page titled in bold capitals: EXCITING SEX TRICKS TO TRY!

It’s ridiculous. You’re both grown adults, and it’s not as though the two of you were born during the outbreak. You’d both been through high school, and no doubt had sexual partners before Cordyceps took hold of the world. However, the prospect of talking sex with Joel Miller was mortifying.

You can feel the heat creeping up your throat as his eyes scan the sections of information with such indifference that you’re almost sure that he’s bored. Perhaps he was. It wasn’t as though you had caught him taking some time to himself during your great journey.

Joel is so lost in the writing that you allow yourself a moment to take in the slope of his nose, the slant of his cupid's bow framed by his greying moustache. Beneath his creased, frowning brow, his long lashes surround the deep brown of his eyes as they flick back and forth across the page. He was a handsome man. Was there no one waiting for him back in the Boston QZ? He’d never sa-

“The fuck is guddlin’?” Joel speaks out, shocking you from your thoughts with a start. You blink slowly, probably looking really fucking stupid as you choke on the words stuck in your throat when Joel looks up at you with a quirked brow.

“I-“

“I mean, I know guddlin’ in a fishin’ sense,” he interrupts, pointing to the page and prodding it with the tip of his finger, “Not in a-… Not in this sense, though.”

“Does-… Does it not explain?” You ask him quietly, your mouth suddenly very dry. Joel gives a light shrug, his eyes wandering over the page in search of a definition.

“Oh- Here,” he points out. He takes a second to read, his tanned skin tinged with pink as the words sink in. “Uhm… It’s- Well, it’s-“

Poor Joel looks as though he’s seconds away from an aneurysm attempting to explain the bizarre sex act without actually saying it. You scoff, snatching up the crinkled magazine and reading over the asterisk in small print at the bottom of the information page.

‘To insert one's finger(s) into a woman's vagina to pleasure her digitally while simultaneously having penile-vaginal intercourse with her.’

You pause, your lips parting as you look at Joel with a weak laugh. He’s rubbing at the back of his neck, eyes cast somewhere on the horizon in an attempt to avoid your own. He’s as embarrassed as you are, it seems, clearing his throat with a weak chuckle.

“Well,” he mumbled, eyes flicking to the magazine, “Must’a been good for it to end up in that.”

You nod slowly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you glance down at the black and white print that appears to all blur together in embarrassment. “Mhm.”

You can feel your pulse between your thighs, your skin tingling beneath what you assume is Joel’s gaze. It’s crude, utterly filthy, but you can imagine the stretch, the feeling of his weapon-calloused fingertips coaxing your g-spot as he slowly sinks into you.

Slowly, with trembling hands, you close the magazine with a nervous laugh, discarding it with a half-hearted toss over the edge of the truck bed and onto the roadside. “Stupid shit anyway…”

Your aimless comment is met with silence, and you’re far too humiliated to face the notion of looking at Joel. You imagine he thinks you’re insane, having caught you reading and enjoying this filth.

“… Take it you ain’t tried that before?” Joel’s gruff voice cuts through the sound of the crickets in the surrounding grass, and you can’t help but laugh, simply shaking your head and avoiding his gaze.

A delicate brush of skin against your ankle sparks something raw up your spine. You look at it quickly, seeing Joel’s fingertips tracing the rough circumference of the joint beneath them. Your skin prickles pleasantly, and you look up at your partner- your smuggling partner- through your lashes.

His expression is firm, but his eyes betray his outward calm display. They’re flickering between your lips and eyes, his exhale slow as he attempts to force out some words he appears afraid to put out into the atmosphere.

“Do you… Do you wanna try it?”

It’s haphazard, delivered clumsily, and so utterly unlike Joel. You can see the cringe in his expression when the sentence settles in the air, and your heart lurches when you see he’s sincere. That he wants you and that he’s letting you know after years of hiding it from you.

God, you don’t even give him another second to doubt himself. You’re scrambling into his lap, straddling it and pressing your mouth to his in a kiss that hurts more than it pleases, his teeth scraping your lower lip and your tongue tracing his own.

You can feel it through the thin, worn denim of his jeans, the jump of his cock when you settle your crotch down against the seam. His hands are vicious, grasping handfuls of your thighs, your ass, your hips. He could bruise the shape of his fingerprints into you, and you’d thank him, would beg him to put you through the pain again to brand you as his.

He groans out your name into your mouth, but it sounds more like a growl rattling in his chest. You’re fumbling in the low lighting with his belt buckle, the clinking of the clasp bringing you relief when you free Joel’s hips from their leather confines. It’s almost frantic, the pace you set as you try and fail, try and fail before you successfully pop the button of his jeans and yank them over his hips. There’s not enough time to rid him of them completely, so Joel settles with the waistband resting just above his knees.

“C’mere,” Joel husks, his lips brushing yours as he speaks and forces your cargo pants over your hips without even bothering to let down the zip. It hurts a little, smarts, but it sparks something desperate in you when you realise it’s pulled down your underwear too, leaving you exposed to his gropes.

One hand grasps the globe of your asscheek, giving a brutally harsh squeeze. The other sinks between your thighs. Joel’s groan of delight when he finds the insides of your thighs soaked causes your cunt to throb before he’s even touched it.

"Is that all me?" He asks you, his voice dipping to a deep, spine-shuddering hum. He sweeps the calloused pad of his index fingertip up the inside of your thigh and through your pussy lips. You can hear the wetness there when he notches against your clit, when he sinks the very tip of his fingers into your entrance. "That all me, or did you like the pornstache more than I realised?"

You usually would scoff in Joel's face, tell him to stop being so ridiculous and self-absorbed, but he's slowly circling your frayed bundle of nerves with his thumb, and your jaw is slack. You can't even think of a witty retort, just grasping feebly at the collar of his denim shirt.

"I'm gonna take what I want from that lack of response," he fills the silence for you, an infuriating smirk settling on his lips as he sinks his fingers inside of you.

The lack of resistance and eagerness from your cunt catches you both off guard, Joel groaning in delight as you take the length of his digits so easily. "Fuck~”

You whimper out Joel’s name, thighs trembling on either side of his lap as he coaxes his fingers towards him inside of you and wasting no time in finding the spot that would bring tears to your eyes.

“Ah,” he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips when he sees your torso crumple inwards as his touch brushes something electric inside you. “Ah- that’s it, ain’t it?”

It’s pathetic. You want to answer him, even sob out wordlessly as the wave of pleasure crashes through you at the delicate touch, but your words are stalled in your throat as Joel circles that sensitive wall inside you with his nimble fingers.

“C’mere,” he growls, seeing your expression contorted desperately and deciding he can’t wait much longer. One hand is still busy with building your orgasm, and his other clumsily pulls down his boxers and exposes his ruddy length.

Joel gives you barely a moment to absorb what it is you see, managing to process the pink tinge to the velvet skin of his cockhead and the smear of precum that glistens under the low lighting before he’s hoisting you over him, knees on either side of his hips.

It’s filthy and disgusting and raw, the way he uses his free hand to sweep his cock across your clit. It sparks something dangerous deep inside your abdomen, another wave of increasingly unmanageable bliss that wraps around your spinal cord and constricts your lungs. You barely choke out his name, your fist punching his shoulder as if to say, ‘stop teasing!’ before Joel sinks into your wet heat with a broken rasp of your name.

Tight. Everything is coiled up so tightly inside you as the width of Joel’s cock-head pushes past your entrance, your walls swallowing him and squeezing him as he sinks in slowly. Your fingernails are digging into his shoulders through his denim shirt, tears of bliss welling in your eyes as he fills you completely. All the while he continues to circle and poke and prod at your g-spot, simultaneously building up your orgasm and wrecking you.

“That’s it,” he husks, breathless as he helps you settle down to the hilt of his dick. He’s nudging your cervix, and you feel so impossibly full that your body is trembling around him, pushed to its absolute limit as your tears stream down your cheeks. They drip from your chin, leaving deeper wet stains across the faded blue of his shirt.

Then he’s shoving his hips upwards and into you, and it’s like you can’t hold onto him tight enough. You’re scrabbling for some kind of grip that can brace you against the simultaneous stimulation of his thrusts and his fingers circling something mind-numbingly raw inside you. The rusty parts of the van creak beneath the motion, and between your slurred curses and weak cries of his name, you’re trying to warn him to be quiet, not to wake Ellie.

You can barely manage to coax him on, eyes rolling back and forehead falling forward onto his shoulder as you give in entirely to the creeping orgasm that picks up your spine.

“C-Can feel you,” Joel stumbles over his own words and laughs, his cock twitching inside you as he continues to drag in and out of your abused pussy, “Can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna cum for me?”

You want to slap him. Want to make him walk to Pittsburgh with this cocky attitude, this cavalier facade that is so unlike his usual brusque persona. Instead, you’re keening for him, nodding your head against his collarbone and squeaking out your best impression of a ‘yes, Joel, please, please!’

Shit- it’s coming. You feel it racing through you before he even delivers his devastating blow. You think it can’t get any more intense, that it can’t feel any better than this, until he’s pushing his hips upwards and manoeuvres his hand to brush his thumb against your swollen, sensitive clit.

The print of his thumb doesn’t even make it a full rotation before your orgasm comes roaring forwards, slamming through your body to the point it’s almost painful in the best way. You’re quick to smother your scream of his name, biting down hard on the denim fabric at Joel’s throat and releasing the devastating shout of his name into the fibres between your teeth.

Poor Joel stumbles with how hard your body clamps down on him, his galloping thrusts reduced to sloppy stutters of his hips as a grating, pained groan rattles through his ribs beside your ear. Distantly, you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you until his cum is spilling down the sides of his cock.

“God-“ He chokes out, voice catching in his throat as you heave for breath. It’s not as though he has the energy to lift you from him, still buzzing. You’re somewhere else entirely, vision blurry and consciousness far outside the dermis walls of your body.

Slumped against Joel, you focus on breathing. How do you do it again? In and out… In and out. It’s embarrassing, the way he’s left you unsure of essential bodily functions. The ease with which he’s numbed your mind and body.

Ironically, though, he makes it easier to find your way back to yourself. His steady, albeit heavy, breathing ticks like a metronome, easing you down from the impossible high you’ve ascended beneath his touch. He smells like salty sweat, like mud that cakes his boots and the truck's tyres.

“You think maybe we should pick that magazine back up?” Joel mumbled into your hair, oddly quiet and almost shy despite the blunt delivery of the query.

Pausing, you glance up at him through your lashes and catch a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks. He’s staring down at the sidewalk next to the tyres, no doubt eyeing up the pages strewn across the cement flags.

“… Well,” you whisper, voice hoarse, “You never know what survival skills we might need. With your blueprints for Molotovs and upgrading weapons and my articles on ‘bizarre sex positions’, we’re bound to survive the apocalypse-“

“Alright, darlin’,” Joel attempts to speak you down from your amused ramblings, made awkward by the crudeness of the conversation once again.

“I mean, what the fuck is the ‘Pretzel Dip’?”

“Fuck if I know,” he admits with an air of chagrin.

“… You’re not much of a playboy, are you Miller?”

“Shut up and put your pants on.”

END

@hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @hold-our-destiny @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina

[david-talks-sw]

Woah there. Coming in a little hot. Take a step back, take stock, and chill. Even when we're discussing (read: "arguing") about stuff, it's Star Wars. It's a fictional universe. We're talking about movies and TV shows and comics aka... having fun.

(Which is advice that applies to me too, for the record)

That said, you trimmed out what I said, so I'll copy-paste it below (blue text) before expanding.

For context, someone said that (paraphrasing) the clones are referred to as “property of the Republic” by Shaak Ti in an argument with Nala Se regarding Fives and there is no rejoinder, so this acknowledgment of the clones being property of the Republic makes the Jedi complicit in their enslavement, as they partake in a flagrantly immoral command structure that sent slave soldiers to their deaths.

My response:

Tone and context are everything. There's an intonation on the word "property" when Shaak Ti says it. She isn't saying:

"Fives is property of the Republic."

She's saying:

"Correction! Technically, Fives is 'property' of the Republic."

She's taking Nala Se's cold, callous term and turning it around on Se with a technicality to score a point and pull rank, in order to save Fives' life. The subtext isn't "Fives is my slave," it's "you don't get to take this living being's life without my say-so."

Ti is regurgitating Nala Se's lingo to tell her to shut the fuck up.

In-universe, "there is no rejoinder" because Fives is aware of this subtext and knows Shaak Ti's in his corner. His life was on the line and Shaak Ti saved him.

Out-of-universe, "there is no rejoinder" because it's the ending of a 22-minute episode from a children's TV show 😃 and the point of the scene isn't to argue semantics about the ownership of the clones it's to save Fives' life. The beats of the scene can be boiled down to:

Nala Se argues fervently for Fives to die.

Shaak Ti is like "stfu no, I'm taking him to Coruscant"

Fives is grateful that Shaak Ti saved his life.

If the argument Nala Se used was, I dunno... "he must be terminated because the virus is contagious" then the beats of the scene would play out the same. Because again: the narrative, the story being told in this episode, ends with Shaak Ti coming in with the clutch and saving Fives.

The lore/sci-fi-ness of it all are mere details to move this children's story along.

You can read the rest of my response here, but since then, the user expanded on their point, explaining that while they acknowledge that Fives knows Shaak Ti's in his corner, what they meant is that there is no rejoinder from Nala Se. If it wasn't true that Fives was "property of the Republic", Nala Se would have said so in her cold and clinical terms.

Thus, for them, the point still stands.

And, uh, I'm not sure it does. Because the episode right before, Nala Se does counter Shaak Ti's argument by saying "nu-uh, the clones are property of the Kaminoans and we're leasing them to you."

So at some point, we either:

Point and go "IT'S A PLOT HOLE, BAD WRITING!" and acknowledge the point is thus moot.

Headcanon our way through this, theorizing that this point of semantics was argued by Shaak Ti and Nala Se and subsequently solved off-screen, in-between the two episodes. In which case, Shaak Ti's word on the subject is indeed final.

Acknowledge that this is a 22-minute story for kids, it was the end of the episode, and they needed Shaak Ti to come up with a technicality so as to save Fives without seeming unreasonable, and this is the best the writers could come up with.

I'm gonna go ahead and take option #3.

But, anon, this reaction of yours does open the door on a bigger point I've argued before.

All I did was bring proper context back to Shaak Ti's words, when they had been taken out of it.

And in discussion about the Jedi, this gets done very often. A sentence - or even words within one - will get plucked out of context and lore or fanon will form around it.

Here's some examples.

"Obi-Wan said that Anakin is pathetic!"

Context:

A pathetic life form.

He's comparing Anakin to Jar Jar, y'all.

AKA someone who had been exiled and was later about to be executed when they found him. AKA someone who has pathos, who inspires pity. Aka someone PATHETIC.

George himself describes Vader as pathetic.

That's because "pathetic" isn't just a judgmental term.

Resulting interpretation: Obi-Wan isn't saying Anakin is "ew, pathetic!" he's disagreeing with Qui-Gon's tendency to pick up strays and fails to see the point of them tagging along on the mission. He is proved wrong later and this ties in to his character arc about learning to see the value in listening to Guide archetype characters like Jar Jar or Ep. 1 Anakin.

"Yoda said the Jedi are arrogant."

Context:

Obi-Wan is bitching about Anakin being arrogant due to being so skillful, and Yoda tells Obi-Wan:

Resulting interpretation: Yoda is speaking in riddles, as per usual. He's being cheeky and implicitly telling Obi-Wan that he can be arrogant too sometimes, in his own Yoda-esque way.

Yoda is not "lamenting how far the Jedi have fallen". It's just another way of saying "we're all human, nobody's perfect."

"Mace said he doesn't trust Anakin."

Context:

Obi-Wan: “Anakin did not take to his assignment with much enthusiasm.” Mace: “It’s very dangerous putting them [Anakin & Palpatine] together. I don’t think the boy can handle it.”

Resulting interpretation: Anakin - not, by his own admission, the most subtle Jedi - is being asked to secretly spy on someone he considers a close friend, a mentor, a father even... aka someone who'll read Anakin like an open book (which is exactly what ends up happening).

Would you trust Anakin with that mission?

Because I sure as hell wouldn't. And that's what Mace is saying.

If it's "fucking disgusting" to point out the context in each of the above situations, during a Star Wars analysis or discussion, I fail to see why.

[siriusly-the-best-bi]

wow so I have like 3 analysis in progress that touch on this topic but I really need to just talk about it rn with its own spotlight.

Aziraphale has this entire life that he's built for himself on earth, after armageddon he's thriving. When we catch up with him in Season 2 his first scene is literally him going to check in with one of his tenants, and throughout the season we see that he has a decent relationship with nearly Everyone on the block. He has an entire life for himself all hashed out and pretty.

Crowley... does not. His cold open in Season 2 is back in St. James park, checking in with Shax, finding out the gossip on Hell. He doesn't have his apartment, he only has his Bentley and the few plants he could fit in it. He doesn't have any other human friendships. His entire life and everything he loves to do is built entirely around Aziraphale.

This is something that I just find so fucking thrilling because when it comes to their characters and where exactly they are in their arcs right now, it's essentially like looking into a mirror.

Aziraphale knows exactly who he is when he's on his own. He nurtures his own relationships with humans he sees often, he's a nice landlord, he loves books and classical music, and hot cocoa. But, Aziraphale still holds onto the ideals of heaven. He still cares about doing good and being forgiving. He still cowers and jumps at the opportunity to help heaven, not because he wants to but because he's supposed to because he's still an angel.

Crowley has nothing. He has his car, which he drives to a secluded location to park every night, only to drive it right back in the morning. He's only even vaguely recognizable because people associate him with Aziraphale and this is fine for him, he could care less. He doesn't really need to know who he is or process his traumas, why would he when he can put all his attention and focus and love and care directly into Aziraphale? His friend, who has always been his friend, the one person who has always stood by him. Who cares about heaven and hell, he has Aziraphale.

When we finally see them on their own and without the influences of their head offices, we see the opposite of what we'd expect, and nearly the opposite of the outcome we see in episode 6. Crowley is the one constantly checking in with Hell (wether he likes it or not), and Aziraphale is the one who's living care free without even thinking about heaven. When he does something good that he wants to report, he just calls Crowley.

this whole dance of Crowley not knowing who he is without Aziraphale and Aziraphale knowing who he is fundamentally but not knowing how to break free from the confines of Heaven that stop him from truly embracing Crowley in the end, it's just so delicious.

[eevees-hobbies]

HIHIHI may I request some Sakura please, your greatness 🧎‍♀️ who despite his tough boi act, absolutely worships the ground his lover walks on and showers them in love (before, during AND after sex) oooou it’s rotting my brain i need him to cuddle me stat

Author’s Note: Ah, so you’ve come to me with a Sakura request, I see. And a cute one like this, too? I get it, anon…I do. I get it because you and I are a lot alike. Sometimes you like the idea of Sakura bending you over and delivering loud, nasty, toe-curling backshots to you as he talks shit in your ear (same, same), but other times you crave a different version of him. You crave a soft Sakura, a comfortable Sakura, a tame Sakura that doesn’t flinch when you touch him but instead leans into your touch and looks at you with absolute devotion, right? Me fucking too. So you want broken-in, house-trained, and domesticated, Sakura? My pleasure. 

Content Warning: Fem!ReaderXHaruka Sakura. Business (fluff) in the front & party (smut) in the back! Smut will be below the last divider. Sweet Sakura, who shows you love through some love-language type things. And then intimate love-making. You make love while half-asleep (mmm). Tame smut. Eve mentions Bridgerton again because there is now continuity in my stories, and I’m not sorry about it (don’t ask me about the show; I’m on season 1, episode 3, but I love the idea of it). Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 2K

Divider by Saradika. Banner by me.

Sakura had watched you all day, and he hated what he was seeing. You two had planned a beach day on a rare day off for him and a light work calendar day for you. But when the universe hears about plans, it often laughs aloud and offers a wrench.

He couldn’t quite understand the intricacies of your work-from-home job beyond that shit was hitting the fan. You sat dutifully in front of your laptop, answering constant pings coming from god-knows-where and from god-knows-who to the point that Sakura felt he could time them perfectly. 

Ping

…

Ping

Yup, perfectly timed. 

And with each call or message you answered, he saw your shoulders rise closer to your neck, the tension making you hunch in a way you’d certainly feel later.

And he couldn’t help you with whatever the fuck KPIs or logic models were, but he could help you in other ways. So, he grabbed his keys and set out for the day.

As your workday concluded, your fingers found the bridge of your nose in an attempt to massage away the tension migraine that was rearing its head. Not only was today stressful, but as you looked around your empty apartment, you found Sakura to be gone. You hoped he wasn’t upset about not going to the beach, but you’d understand if he was.

As you stood out of your ergonomic office chair to stretch, ready to open the refrigerator to cook something up quickly, the door to your tiny abode opened. 

You let out a breathy laugh—Sakura is blocked from your line of vision, and only a few single tufts of black and white hair peek over the various restaurant and grocery bags in his arms. As you croon your neck to watch him struggle his way inside, you also see that he’s carrying a bouquet of flowers with an unmistakable logo tucked firmly under his armpit.

He’s grumbling as he sets the items down on the kitchen island; something about hating living so high up, but you can’t bring yourself to dial in on his ramblings as you read the names of your favorite places on the bags.

“You got us ramen, kitten?”

“Yeah. Miso with extra beansprouts like you like, with some Gyoza on the side. It’s probably cold since it’s like climbing a fuckin’ mountain to get up here, but I can heat everything back up.”

He begins removing food, snacks, face masks, popcorn, and drinks from the bags. Your heart pangs with remorse at even thinking he was upset about your inability to go to the beach. Sakura is complicated, but he’s not childish.

“Also, Umemiya said something about the flowers, but you might have to text him about that. I zone out when he starts talking plant-talk.”

“Same,” your arms find his waist, your cold hands sneaking up his shirt and rubbing at his prominent v-line as you wrap yourself around his whole person. “Thank you for this. I love you so much.”

Sakura blushes, a personal trait he’s tried to stop fighting long ago. “Sure, but go ahead and sit on the couch. New episode of Bridgerton tonight?”

You rub your palms together excitedly, “I’ll get the fuzzy socks, kitten!”

After getting through half an episode of Bridgerton, Sakura noticed you were fighting a losing battle with your sleep needs. Heavy eyelids and your head growing slack on his shoulder were all the signs he needed to turn off the TV and scoop you up in his arms.

“Bath,” you mumble against his chest. 

“Bath,” he offers in return.

“You sure?” he mumbles against your lips, “your eyes are barely open.”

“Mmm, but my legs are open, baby. See?” You wrap your thighs around his midsection, trapping him in and pulling him closer.

The heat radiating from your clothed cunt is undeniable, you’ve probably wanted him all night, and fuck, he felt the same way.

Sakura’s lips trace the curve of your jaw with gentle kisses and flicks of his tongue until his face is nestled in the crook of your neck. Your pulse is calm—so slow that he wonders if you managed to fall asleep until you shift under him and let out a sigh.

“Sakura...need you.”

“Yeah, babe. You got me. I’m right here.”

As he pulls the seat of your underwear aside, the slit of his cock already giving way to shiny droplets of precum, he sinks into you with a sigh escaping his lips at the familiarity of you. He can’t help but think of all the ways he loves you. Moments like this make him feel like the best version of himself—someone worthy of being loved and giving love. 

He briefly presses his forehead into the valley of your breasts, letting your slick walls adjust to his girth. You’re wearing one of his white tee’s and smell so unmistakably like him that he’s positive you put on his deodorant after your bath. The thought of being so connected that you dress and smell like him while still maintaining your own smell makes him want you more.

His cheeks rub against your breasts, soft and heavy even through the pesky fabric, and because even one barrier is a barrier too many, he is now lifting the shirt over your head and tossing it to the corner of the room. 

His cock twitches at the erotic sight of you, fully naked except with your panties shifted ever so slightly to the side, puffy pussy lips wrapped around his cock, and hole stuffed to the brim with him. He’d call it a fantasy if this weren’t his real life. 

His feather-soft touches—reserved only for you—cascade from your stomach down your hip before the idea of not moving and not making love to you becomes too unbearable. His hand grips one of your thighs, and he pulls his hips back slightly, dragging the length of him against your silken walls and then forward, your pussy so wet, so creamy, and welcoming for him.

In his mind, he’s giving thanks, thanks to the shitty universe that finally felt enough pity for him that he was blessed with you. 

He has to steel his resolve, however, because when he begins to think like this—think about how lucky he is to have you, to be buried inside of you—he’s prone to lose himself to you far earlier than he’d like and he wants this tryst to last. 

“Haru, feel so good.” your words are slurred and dripping with the slow drawl that comes with sleep, but your body is deliciously reactive for him. The creamy sounds of his cock mixing with your thick slick fills the room so lewdly and loudly that it makes both your cheeks heat up as your love is audibly personified. 

“You do, too. P-pussy feels amazing.” 

He loves you so much his heart hurts. His other hand finds yours, entangling his long fingers with your own. And the way you rub at his bruised knuckles, fresh from a fight, doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Even in your half-awake state, you still care for him and want to ease his discomfort. 

He slots his lips against yours where they belong, wishing that he could give you a more heated kiss, the kind that you like where he lets you suck on his tongue, but this is perfect, too.

You open your mouth, ready, so willing to accept him. He’d never say no to you, and he’s not going to start tonight. His tongue eagerly slips into your warm cavern and is immediately greeted by yours as he traces and flirts with it. 

God, the taste of you is perfect.

If he could drink every bit of your saliva, thick and minty, he would. 

Sakura pulls back, his chest aching a bit as he does so, but this question is important.

Breathy, soft whispers from a mind and body that is so lost in his lust for you can’t stop him from checking on your well-being. “Is this… you ok?”

“Mmmhmm”

His thrusts are steady and deep, practically slow, as he pulls out until the head of his dick stretches your tight hole to the thickest part of him. He’s then languidly pushing back in, savoring you and how you feel around him. He knows the feeling so well, yet it feels novel every time.

His eyes watch your face as your brows furrow; your tongue darts out past your lips to moisten them, the way your mouth falls open when he grinds the tip of his dick against your g-spot.

You’re so beautiful. 

His hand travels down and finds your clit. His thumb gently pushes the hood back, flattening the pad of his thumb he gently flicks at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re so warm and drooling with want from him that he lets out a whimper.

 “I love you.” 

Your breathing quickens, but you lap up his words like they are a scarcely available resource. When Haruka Sakura tells you he loves you, he means it. 

“Love you too, Kitten.”

“I want to make you cum. You think you can be a good girl for me and cum?” 

“Yes, baby, I’d love that. Almost there, please don’t stop, Haru.”

“No, never.” 

He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, moaning as your fingers rake through his hair. Every part of you is his favorite, but your breasts hold a special place in his heart. He sucks on them maybe a bit too eagerly, but you don’t seem to mind; as he pops each nipple out his mouth, they glisten with saliva and stiffen into needy peaks.

Your pussy is clenching him more now; he can tell that you’re close, and he loves that he can do this for you. 

His thrusts have picked up slightly in speed, but they’re harder—communicating more want—the headboard now bucking against the wall and making consistent banging noises. As your cum splashes out of you with every flick of his hips, your inner thighs and his abs being coated in nothing but your slick, you pull him down flush against your soft body.

You see your orgasm before you feel it like fireworks exploding in your brain and setting off each pleasure sensor as your eyes dilate. You get that wonderful lightheaded feeling that comes with taking too many rapid breaths in a short amount of time.

Sakura moans as you clench around him, your walls gripping the head of his cock and massaging that sensitive spot on the underside of his dick. He can feel hot, white streams of his cum pouring into you, filling up every inch of you until your walls are painted white with his seed. He gives you a few more final, deep thrusts to ensure that his nut is deep and buried in what’s his, his thighs trembling at the idea of you being stuffed to the brim with his love, making him absolutely weak.

“Mmm, pervert. Did you just nut inside of me?”

He pulls away, leaning across the bed to grab a towel that’s settled nearby—first to clean you up, dabbing at your folds and thighs, and then himself.

“Sorry, should have used your face for target practice. Go pee so you don’t get a UTI.”

He helps you up; your eyes are still half-open as he guides you to the bathroom. As he hears the click of the door and the sound of a steady stream hitting sitting water, he turns to continue his routine. 

Sakura grabs the previously discarded white tee, places it on the bed for you, and then heads to the kitchen. He grabs a glass of water and a granola bar, just in case, and places both items on your side of the nightstand. 

He looks down at the sheets and briefly considers changing them; streaky, white, wet stains stand out as evidence of your lovemaking, but he hears the sound of water coming from a faucet, and he doesn’t want to hinder your sleep any longer.

You exit the bathroom, rubbing your eyes and yawning. 

“Here,” he says, getting up with the shirt, pulling it over your head and down your body, and then guiding you back to bed.

You snuggle up next to him, and you drift off. Typically, Sakura might spend this time staring at you, wondering what you’re dreaming about as your face gives way to adorable expressions in your sleep, but this time, he joins you in your slumber instead. 

[sxeraphfic]

SFW ALPHABET W/ DONNIE DARKO

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Hey everyone! decided to do the sfw alphabet thing, i got rid of a few that felt unneeded or like id already partially answered them. hope you enjoy my loves <3

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Donnie as a very socially awkward and emotionally repressed person would be awkward with affection at first, i think he’d want to hug and kiss you and be cuddly but get nervous of freaking you out or scaring you. He has the mentality that he’s abit of a freak so he’ll project that unfortunately. However as time goes on and he learns to trust and feel your love he will become very affectionate.

He definitely enjoys hugs from behind whether it’s from you or him, not only is it cozy feeling but he occasionally likes to surprise you and give you a little scare because he’s a tease

Donnie also and obviously enjoys handholding and kissing, he’ll make sure to hold your hand wherever you go!

He isn’t particularly scared of PDA, he won’t do anything extreme but i feel like he’s a little unaware of his surroundings sometimes so he’ll happily go for a kiss or a hug in the middle of the street.

Donnie feels most comforted at home, away from people and with you. He’ll be extra cuddly then, whether it’s laying on your chest or getting his hair stroked he’ll love the attention and warmth you bring to him and he’ll do the exact same for you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Donnie would probably be abit emotionally unavailable as a best friend not going to lie, i think he’d have a hard time differentiating between why a best friend is different to a normal friend… “shouldn’t you treat your friends all the same?”

However after awhile it’d be clear to him that you’re a trustworthy and good person, he’d open up to you about a few of his more… complicated problems and may even impulsively tell you some weird things during his episodes

The friendship would begin probably with you initiating it through some sort of party or maybe at school, at first he’d be a little distant and non chalant but after awhile he would have a genuine interest in your hobbies, life, personality etc

He’d probably feel most comfortable just hanging out in his room listening to music or playing video games maybe even reading or studying together.

He’d be loyal aswell, and open to listening to your problems as he out of all people would know what it feels like to have problems.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddling with friends or family? absolutely not. But with a lover it’s a completely different story.

He’ll try to smoothly initiate it but end up accidentally saying or doing something silly and you’ll both laugh it off

He’s clingy aswell, not at first but as time goes on it’ll show, even during the hottest of summer nights he’ll try to link hands together as you sleep.

He looooves when you initiate it first, not just because he’s shy but it shows you want him and that’s all he needs to feel appreciated

I can imagine you two both standing together at a bus stop on a cold snowy day, cuddling together with his face buried in your hair to keep warm.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Donnie definitely wants to settle down at some point, i don’t see him having commitment issues but more so the complete opposite. Once he’s found the one he won’t let go and will do his best to be a good boyfriend OR husband despite his mental health.

Donnie would be a little messy about cleaning, he’s not lazy (most of the time) and i think he’d want the cleaning and cooking duties to be equal on both parts so he’d be happy to learn to cook for you.

During possible depressive or psychotic episodes he would require you to be a little more understanding on why he may not be perfect at keeping everything clean, he’d apologise in embarrassment but surely you’d understand <3

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Donnie would be terrible at breakups, i think he’s the type to dump and ghost and never speak again unfortunately.

He’d do the right thing by at least talking it out in person, but it would be an awkward conversation for sure and relatively fast paced as he wouldn’t know what to say afterwards.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Donnie would probably not really actually care at least too much about marriage, he wants it but he won��t be asking to marry you straight away.

That being said that doesn’t mean he’s not committed to you, he’s all yours and he expects the same from you!

I can imagine it wouldn’t take long before he pops the question out, maybe at a pretty looking park or dinner date where he makes the effort to have everything be lovey dovey and romantic.

I can imagine late night conversations in bed with him, and him suddenly bringing up the idea of marriage. “do you see us together in the future y/n?”

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Donnie is an absolute gentle soul towards you, he’s never violent or rough and is absolutely terrified of hurting or scaring you.

He gets easily frustrated and annoyed but is quick to apologise and stop if you tell him he needs to calm down

Occasionally donnie will enjoy a little play fighting or a little pinch to give you a shock, but most of the time he prefers to just be gentle with you.

Emotionally donnie tries his best to be gentle, however he’s filled with sarcasm and is a little bit of a meanie, it’ll show and if you tell him you don’t appreciate it he’ll try his best to repress himself. Otherwise if you enjoy it he’ll probably like that and ramp it up a little more for the banter factor.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Donnie’s hugs depend on where you are.

In public places his hugs will usually be casual and quick, he’ll probably give you a kiss on the forehead too during it.

In more private places he’ll be much more relaxed and give you long and heartfelt hugs, kind of bear hug like in a sense. He might rough up your hair and give you lots of kisses during it aswell.

Donnie is always happy to receive a hug from you too, he won’t mind how long they are or how intense you are about it. He just likes that you want to give him one in the first place!

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Donnie doesn’t really understand social norms like waiting 3 months to say i love you, if he’s with you in the first place that means he loves you. So it’ll probably take less than a week for him to announce it to you, maybe even on the same day you get together. He’s fast paced with his emotions and words and is quite blunt about it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Oh boy do i have opinions on this.

Donnie will get jealous and he’ll definitely ruminate and stress on it, HOWEVER he will not blame you for it unless you’re showing signs of cheating.

When he’s jealous it’ll take him a few days before he really admits it, in the mean time he’ll be a little distant and more sad looking than usual. He’ll ask for validation from you like a sad little puppy whilst not even being open about why he’s asking for it in the first place. The next stage will be him getting a little snarky about whatever’s made him jealous which is where you’ll realise what’s happened.

Donnie is a paranoid person, but for you he knows to try tone it down. If you realise he’s jealous and just comfort and explain to him that he doesn’t have to be, he’ll immediately feel comforted and better about it. Just don’t keep him waiting on it.

I think during his episodes he’ll be a little more aggressive about it but as i said all he wants is the confirmation that you only want him.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

It’s hard to tell with donnie whether his kisses are going to end up in a rough and steamy make out sesh or if it’s gonna be just a quick little peck. Either way he’ll make sure to kiss you on the regular!

Donnie’s favourite places to kiss you are

Your lips (ofc) your forehead your cheeks your neck your stomach and thighs and literally anywhere else. lol.

Donnie personally likes to be kissed in those exact places too, especially his neck. it gives him butterflies.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Hmmm as a teen obviously he just likes to tease and make fun of them, especially his little sister.

But as he gets older and as he’s stated himself he definitely wants to have kids, he’d only have them if he was mentally well enough to handle them though.

That being said if he did have them and was mentally well, he’d been a kind of “cool dad” if you get what i mean. Not afraid to be honest and direct with his kids about the world, maybe occasionally make a silly more adult joke or swear around them. He’d want them to be emotionally intelligent and know how to navigate though their world, so he’d be cautious about the media and information they consume.

He’d also defend them against school authority probably lol. Even if they’re in the wrong and they’ve done something stupid he’ll be the first to say it’s not a big deal.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

“Nooo ten more minutes” type of energy here. you will not be leaving that bed until he’s ready!

If hes in his bed cuddling you he’s as happy as can be, he loves to stare and admire how you look when you’re sleeping so he always hopes to wake up before you.

Once he’s out of bed he’s abit of a grump for the next hour or so, he enjoys it if you happen to make breakfast for him but it’s not a big deal if you don’t.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

There’s a variety of things donnie wouldn’t mind doing at night, he’s kind of an all cards type of guy when it comes to it since the vibes of night just suit his needs perfect

Watching movies in his room or at the cinema Listening to music Reading Cuddling and kissing Other.. not so safe for work stuff.. Night walks and star gazing

Donnie loves any time he can spend with you really, he’s not in a rush to go to sleep so he’ll stay up all night with you if that’s what you want.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Donnie is not one too get easily angered, with you that is. Normally he’s very easily riled up about how the world is cruel and everyone in it sucks. But with you he has an unbelievable amount of patience, he’ll retort with sarcasm but is a natural problem solver and is always ready to talk it out.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Donnie comes off as absent minded, but he will remember every single little detail about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a little notebook or journal filled with information about you and your likes, dislikes, random facts and etc.

Donnie’s the type of person to know and remember facts about you that you’ve long forgotten, he’ll buy you a t-shirt of a band that you mentioned liking three years ago and haven’t said anything about since.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Donnie is definitely a protective boyfriend, it comes from his paranoid outlook on the world. He would never forgive himself if you got hurt and he wasn’t there to protect you.

Although he isn’t a bodybuilder or anything he’ll speak up for you and maybe even resort to a little violence. (or if he’s feeling really crazy he’ll pull a gun out like in the movie)

As for you protecting him.. he’d appreciate you standing up for him but insist he doesn’t need it, if anything it’d make him a little embarrassed.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Donnie would definitely put effort into you, the fact that you’re with him in the first place amazes him and he doesn’t plan on losing you to laziness.

Most dates will be casual, if he feels like he wants to treat you to something nicer he’ll work hard for it. His love language is primarily physical touch and gift giving imo, so when he works he has a tendency to work just so he can provide for you since he has such simple needs himself.

As for everyday tasks, he believes in equality surrounding that type of thing. But if he notices you’re in a poor mood or feeling sad he’ll put in the effort to make sure you don’t need to strain yourself.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

The most obvious one here is his fluctuating and poor mental health, mental illness isn’t pretty. There’ll be times where he needs you at his lowest and he might push you away during it. That’s when you need to be there for him the most.

He also tends to be absent minded with your feelings, he might say or do something that makes you upset and not realise until you say something about it. This isn’t personal, he’s just very straightforward.

He’s definitely a little possessive too, not to the point where you’re unsafe but he’s terrified of losing you.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

This one is an interesting case.

He isn’t really worried with his looks but definitely has abit of a freak complex due to his illness and unpopularity at school, he’ll appreciate when you compliment him. he needs it.

He might ask you what he can do to be more attractive, or if you’re really into him, the answer is obviously yes but he really could do with an ego boost.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Donnie isn’t interested in superficial people, if you can’t have an interesting discussion with him he’ll be turned off immediately. He also enjoys someone who’s at least somewhat reliable, you can have your own issues and mental illness but at the end of the day if you’re a complete mess in all areas he may just end up feeling like he can’t give you what you need.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Besides the obvious sleep walking, donnie is a heavy sleeper. He doesn’t snore or anything but he definitely mumbles and grumbles throughout the night, he also will unconsciously hug and cuddle you for warmth.

Donnie may also experience frequent nightmares, if he wakes up from a really bad one he might wake you up for comfort

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Annnnnd finished! i hope you guys enjoyed. If anyone is interested in an NSFW version please head to my ask box!

partially proof read ;9

[thenationofzaun]

Flashbacks in Arcane

Remember the flashback cold opens in many episodes of Arcane Season 1? Each flashback was focused on a specific main character, and it provided further context for the character's arc or their storyline in that particular episode. Examples: Episode 1 - Vi and Jinx on the Day of Ash, Episode 2 - Jayce and the mage, Episode 3 - Silco drowning, Episode 5 - Caitlyn and Grayson, Episode 6 - Viktor and the toy boat, Episode 8 - Mel and Ambessa. The only ones that didn't have them are Episodes 4, 7, and 9. What's interesting is there was originally supposed to be a flashback of young Ekko attempting to rescue Powder from Silco, only to discover she goes by Jinx now and doesn't want to leave him. This flashback was cut and instead, we got the Misfit Toys music video in episode 7. Little did we know this was foreshadowing for Season 2 doing away with flashbacks completely and going full throttle on flashy musical montages at the expense of storytelling. So here are some flashbacks I would liked to see in Season 2:

- That same Jinx and Ekko flashback. Since they removed it from Season 1, they really should have included it in Season 2. Rather than an AU episode of Ekko romancing a different version Powder, he should have had more organic development with the Jinx we actually know. Grappling with the past of her rejecting him for Silco, then the present of her warring with Piltover and gaining followers, and debating whether he should ally with her against topside. Whether he can bring himself to after everything she's done. Give the Firelights a voice too. Have them all have differing opinions, with some of them taking Sevika's stance (topside is the real enemy) and others being more reluctant (Jinx has killed too many of us, we can't ever forgive her). Of course, this would require Ekko to be involved with the sisters' and Piltover vs Zaun storylines rather than fucking off to deal with the Hexcore and multiverse mumbo jumbo.

- Caitlyn and her mother. Considering how much grief over Cassandra plays a role in Caitlyn's arc this season, there should have been scenes of them actually bonding. All their screentime in Season 1 showed a strained relationship with not a single happy moment between them. Then in Season 2, she only tells Jayce about how they used to go to their secret garden together and it's one of the few places they never fought. Would have been nice to actually see that.

- Vi's time in prison. For a character that was going to join the enforcers and throw other Zaunites in jail, her own past of being imprisoned by an enforcer should have been relevant. I would have liked to see a young Vi fresh after the events of S1E3, thrown into a cell and desperately fighting to get out. Show us a time lapse, how after multiple escape attempts and the subsequent beatings and torture, her resolve broke. Show how present Vi is actually affected by prison trauma. Show us how she reconciles her past with becoming an enforcer in the present. This show acts like Vi went on vacation to the Bahamas during the S1 timeskip. That's how irrelevant her time in prison is treated.

- Jinx being raised by Silco. Jinx spends this season mourning Silco and debating whether to continue his mission of fighting Piltover for Zaun's independence. Would have been nice to see her reminisce on her past with him - him lecturing her about the Nation of Zaun, encouraging her to keep developing her talents, telling her to believe in her own strength, reassuring her that she isn't worthless. Was thinking it'd be cute for it to take place in his underwater lair with him showing her the shark-like monsters and telling her how beautiful he finds them, then cut to her holding Fishbones in the present.

- Jayce and Viktor's bond. This was the season of Jayvik divorce and remarriage. Also the season of Hextech Getting Out Of Hand. Would have been cute to see their past working together on the early days of Hextech. And how for a long time they were the only ones who understood each other and each other's only real friend. "Remember the Innovator's Competition?" :')

Of course for all this to work, a lot of shit would have to be cut from this season and the plot would have to be focused on Piltover vs Zaun.

[unsolved-duvall]

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 - 𝐞.𝐦.

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary you're falling apart and no one can see it. apart from eddie, and he wants to do whatever he can to help you. but you're used to doing everything by yourself. (3.9k)

warnings mental health, anxiety, talks of depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts, brief talk of body image issues, crying, lots of emotions, fluff, brief kissing, this is kind of a heavy one so please bear that in mind <3

It was never pretty when you finally let all of your emotions out. It’s why you rarely let yourself feel them. 

But if you didn’t let yourself feel them you worried you would drown in them. They would take over your whole being and there wouldn’t be enough of you left for you to recognise when you looked in the mirror. 

Everyone always told you there was nothing wrong with you. That you weren’t broken like you insisted each time their monotone voices tried to snap you out of a bad episode. You almost wanted to be broken, you wanted there to be a reason you felt like this. Because if there wasn’t, and this was just how you were. Then you weren’t sure you could live like that. At least if there was something wrong with you, you could blame everything on that. You could blame the way you push people away on that. You could blame the way you self-sabotage on that. 

You could blame the way you find so much comfort in sadness on that. 

You had felt yourself slipping into that mirror-image version of yourself this whole week. The version of yourself that was there, but wasn’t really there. Your voice wasn’t your own. Every word you said felt like you were reading it off a teleprompter, saying precisely what everyone around you wanted to hear so they could convince themselves that you were alright. 

So you did just that. You smiled when you had to. Spoke only when you couldn’t avoid it. And no one noticed. 

Apart from one. 

Because Eddie always noticed. 

You hadn’t been together for very long. You certainly hadn’t been together long enough for Eddie to see you like this. But he knew nonetheless that something was wrong. 

It was why he had asked you to come round tonight. Wayne would be at work, as usual, and he wanted to spend the night with you. 

When Eddie had told you that, he quickly clarified through blushing cheeks and a peal of nervous laughter that he didn’t mean ‘spend the night with you’ in that way. He just wanted you there. 

So you said okay. Told him you would be there at seven. He smiled an almost sickly-sweet smile and pulled you in for a hug, too tight to be casual, and told you he’d see you then; his hand resting on your arm even after you had pulled away from the hug. 

You knew he knew. You knew he’d ask you about it. About why you were so… you didn’t know what you were. But it wasn’t you.  

.

.

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It was a cold night. The bitter air bit at your face and tried to fight its way through the layers you were wearing. The sharp pain that shot through your hands at the coldness was almost therapeutic. It distracted you for just a second and was enough to make your mind go quiet. Which was something you had never been able to do. 

You knocked on the trailer door and took a step back, waiting for Eddie to open it. But instead, you heard his voice ring out from inside, telling you to come in. You were sure the whole trailer park must have heard him. The boy did not have a quiet bone in his body. 

Pushing the door open you were met with a comforting warmth and the yellow light from the lamps dotted around the trailer lit up your face. You dropped your bag to the floor and pulled your sleeves down, tucking your hands away in them, letting the heat sink deep into your bones. 

Eddie appeared a few seconds later, popping his head up from where he was knelt down behind a kitchen counter. 

“Angel!” 

He always called you that. And even so, it still made your heart swell whenever he called out to you. 

“Hey Eddie,” your voice came out much quieter than you intended it to. You were trying to put on a brave face, or whatever the fuck your counsellor had called it. Apparently, you had a bad habit of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. You didn’t need a professional to tell you that, but sure. Thanks. 

Eddie’s face dropped slightly, his smile fading for a second before he composed himself. His face lit back up if only slightly more forced than before, and stood up. 

“I uh- I was trying to find your popcorn. You know the one with the chocolate and stuff mixed in?”

You nodded, taking a seat on one of the chairs that hadn’t been pushed back under the table, pulling a leg up to rest your chin on your knee. 

“Yeah but I can’t- I can’t find it,” Eddie’s brows scrunched up in confusion and he spun round a couple of times, his eyes darting across the kitchen. 

You couldn’t help the smile that tried to tug at your lips. He looked like a lost child. But you loved him anyway. 

Not that you had told him you loved him yet. It seemed too soon and, if you were being honest, the idea of telling anyone, even Eddie, that you loved them scared the shit out of you. 

So instead of saying “you’re an idiot you know that? I love you though.” 

You said, “I think I finished it last time I was here.”

Eddie stopped abruptly, his hair flying around him as he halted his movements and flicked his eyes over to meet yours. 

“You did?” He sounded genuinely upset, you weren’t sure why, it was just popcorn. 

“I think so,” You watched as Eddie leaned against the counter, and you switched your legs around, dropping the right one to the floor and resting your chin on your left knee instead.

“Remember last Tuesday? It was storming outside so we stayed in and watched all those films. I ate it then.”

“Oh- I don’t remember you eating it?”

“Yeah, that’s because you fell asleep ten minutes after you lay down next to me” 

“You were playing with my hair! It is completely on you that I fell asleep” Eddie laughed between words, and you wished you could laugh too. But you couldn’t. 

Eddie picked up on whatever it was you were feeling and his laughter died down as he cleared his throat, a not-so-subtle tell that he felt unsure of what he was meant to say or do. 

You hated that it was you who made him feel like that. You hated that you were such a burden to everyone around you; you hated the way you could make even the happiest people feel sad, just by being in the same room as you. It was like you were draining to be around. 

“I’m gonna go and uh- go and get changed if that’s okay?” You stood up and waited for Eddie to respond, he seemed to be distracted now, his eyes almost looking through you rather than at you. 

“Oh yeah- yeah, of course, sweetheart. I’ll order a pizza for us, yeah?” 

“That sounds good, Eds” 

Eddie smiled at you. It was a painful smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. As you walked past him he reached a hand out and let it rest on your back until you were too far away. 

You made your way to his room and heard him shuffle around behind you. You should say something, right? Tell him you were okay. Reassure him? 

You wanted to. You were going to. But then your hand was on the door handle and you had walked into Eddie’s room without saying anything to him. It was like you were fighting a constant battle with your own mind. You knew what you wanted to say and do, but you still couldn’t manage it.   

Eddie made sure you knew very quickly into the relationship that you were welcome to wear any of his clothes. In fact, he encouraged it. So, instead of bringing pyjamas with you, you had made the executive decision to wear Eddie’s clothes tonight. 

You flicked on the lamp in his room and knelt down by the dresser, pulling out some of his clothes.

You settled on an old-band tee (if you were being honest, you didn’t recognise the band. You were getting better at knowing Eddie’s music, but you were still learning. And Eddie was more than happy to tell you everything about them). 

You threw on the already oversized tee and pulled on a pair of his clean boxers over your underwear to wear as shorts. 

You already felt safer. His clothes smelt like him. They wrapped you up in a warm hug and told you everything would be fine. You just wished you could believe it.

You turned on your heel and noticed something you had somehow not seen when you walked into his room. His bed. It was made up with fresh sheets on it and smelt like… flowers? Almost as if someone had sprayed perfume on the bed. 

And there was a toothbrush and toothpaste lying on the pillow, as well as an eye mask. You walked over to it and ran your fingers over the pillow. Fuck. 

You didn’t realise you were crying until your vision went blurry. Your head started spinning and in a moment of upset, you sank to the floor, sitting with your back resting against the wall and you let the tears fall.

Before you could wipe them away you heard the bedroom door open, you spun round and saw Eddie standing there, his eyes flicking between you and the bed. His face filled with dread and you could physically see the internal battle he was having with himself over what he should say or do first. 

“Baby- baby, hey don’t cry. It’s okay”

You hid behind your hands. It was a childish move, but it made you feel safe. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You heard him moving around, his footsteps carried across the room as he made his way over to the bed, sitting down on it, giving you as much space as you needed. 

“Sweet- hey, I didn’t do it for that.” 

Huh? 

“I- I told Wayne you were coming to stay for the night and he told me I should make sure you were comfortable here. He took me out to buy you some toiletries and fresh sheets for the bed because apparently mine are too old and even he doesn’t trust them, which I think is rude to be honest- but anyway, that’s- that’s what all this is.” 

Eddie took a much-needed breath before he picked up the eye mask and twirled it around in his hands. 

“It’s all for you so it’s like being at home. You have one of these, right?” You didn’t answer, still crying and not even looking at him. 

“I can sleep on the couch, I was going to! There are blankets and pillows out there for me. I don’t want you to feel like you staying the night meant- fuck. I just wanted it to be nice, I’m so sorry” 

Oh.

Oh, you loved him more than you could ever tell him. 

“It’s okay” Your voice was small but you needed him to know that was not why you were crying. At all. In fact, that idea hadn’t even crossed your mind. Eddie had made sure you knew there was absolutely no rush, no pressure, to do anything that you didn’t feel comfortable with. 

“I wasn’t- I’m sorry I wasn’t crying because of that,” You still weren’t looking at him, but you had dropped your hand from your face. You now stared at the floor, anywhere but looking at him. 

“Well- oh. But, baby? Why were you crying then? Are you… does something hurt? Do you need me to get you something?” Eddie’s soft voice hit every nerve in you and brought the tears back to your eyes. You let them fall down your cheeks freely; there was no point in hiding them anymore. He had already seen what a mess you were. 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine” 

Fine. 

You didn’t believe it, and evidently, neither did Eddie because he said your full name and that grabbed your attention. Because he never did that. 

“You need to talk to me.” His voice had changed. It was still soft but there was something lining it that made you feel like you had disappointed him. 

Of course, you could never disappoint him. But he was worried as hell about you. He had barely slept last night because of you. He had picked up on your change in demeanour for a few days now, but he wanted to give you space. But he couldn’t do that anymore. 

“You need to talk to me because you’re scaring me.” 

You were scaring him? 

“Eddie I-” 

“I have tried. I have tried to give you space but- baby, I don’t know what to do anymore. I thought you would come to me, talk to me. But you haven’t and I can’t just sit back and pretend I don’t see you slowly killing yourself.” 

You had one hand picking at a loose carpet thread and the other one resting on your knee, digging your nails in until you knew you had have crescent-shaped scars there tomorrow. 

“I’m sorry.” It was all you could say. All you could force yourself to say. 

For a beat, Eddie didn’t say anything, and you worried you had annoyed him. You were ready for him to get up and walk out. 

But he didn’t- 

“Come here,” He moved back on the bed, leaning against the wall to give you space to sit however you wanted. 

You thought about staying where you were. But something inside you had you moving to sit next to him before you could think about it for very long. You climbed onto the bed and sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder. You didn’t look at him, and you didn’t move when he tried to pull you against him. 

You didn’t know why you wouldn’t let him love you. 

“Talk to me, baby.” His voice was as quiet as yours had once been. 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“Say whatever you need to say.” 

“I-” 

Fuck why was this so hard. You should be able to talk to him, if there was anyone in the world you could talk to, it was him. And yet, here you were. 

“I just want to feel okay again.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” You had just pulled his heart out and broken it in two. He had never heard you speak like this. He had never heard you speak and have your voice break from the raw pain you were feeling. He wanted, no needed, to make you feel safe. 

“I’m so sorry. What can I- what can I do? Tell me, please.” He was all but down on his knees begging you to tell him how he could help you. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know Eddie because if I knew I wouldn’t feel like this, would I?”

Shit. You didn’t mean to say that. You don’t even know where that came from. 

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t apologize. It’s good, this is good,” Eddie placed a hesitant hand on your leg, and when you didn’t flinch away he let it rest there. An anchor to keep you here with him. A gentle reminder that you weren’t alone. No matter how alone you felt. “Showing emotion is good, sweetheart. No matter what it is.” 

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I don’t know why I did that.” 

“Maybe because you feel scared. Maybe you don’t know how you feel right now and that’s really scary, to not understand our own emotions.” 

God, if anyone ever called him dumb again you were going to dropkick them because he may just be the smartest person you have ever met. 

You leant into him a bit more, your head resting above his shoulder. It felt good to be close to him. He made you feel okay again. 

“I just feel- I just feel so… numb. I know I’m not okay. But I don’t know why, I don’t know why I feel this way but I do. I feel this weight in my chest and it-” your voice broke as you started to cry again, but you pushed through, because it was Eddie. 

“It feels like I can’t breathe. Because I wake up and I don’t even get one second of calm before the anxiety hits and my heart is racing and I have these horrible thoughts. And I feel like that all the time. I overthink everything and I convince myself that everyone hates me and- it’s so tiring. I hate myself. I hate what I look like like, I hate my own brain, I just hate myself. I feel so uncomftorable in my own body. And I’m not important, I’m not interesting, I’m not…anything. I feel like everyone else is okay and I am just drowning every second of every day and I have to pretend I’m okay because there are people who have it way, way worse. And every day I wake up and I wish-” You cut yourself off abruptly. 

“You wish what, sweets?” Eddie asked you, his hand on your leg now rubbing soothing circles into it. 

“I wish I didn’t have to wake up.” 

In a split second Eddie had pulled you into him and had his arms wrapped so tightly around you that you weren’t sure where he ended and you began. You buried your head inbetween his neck and his shoulder and let yourself need him. 

You let yourself need someone else for the first time. You clinged to him like a lifeline and let him breathe life back into you. Your hands went under his t-shirt and you let them run up and down his back. Eddie was holding onto you too tightly to even move a limb. You heard his little shh shh shh’s and I’ve got you’s before you noticed you were crying. 

And the you let yourself feel everything you had pushed so far down you almost forgot how much it hurt. 

“It’s so hard. Everything is so hard and I don’t think I can do it. I don’t think I’m strong enough.” Eddie had to fight to hear your words through the gut-wrenching sobs you were finally letting out. But he did listen. He would listen for the rest of his life if you needed him to. 

So that’s what he did. He listened to you. You told him everything, you told him everything you were feeling and he sat and he took in every word. It was hard, for both of you, but it was desperately needed. Because it wasn’t until you truly spoke the words out loud for the first time that you realised how close to the edge you had been. 

Eventually you ended up curled into Eddie’s side. Your legs were tangled together and you had your arms wrapped around him. One hand slid under his t-shirt to rest on his chest, it grounded you somehow, to feel him. He kept a tight hold on you the entire time, his calming hands rubbing up and down your arms and his lips pressing delicate kisses on the top of your head every few minutes. 

Whenever he could hear you getting emotional again he would cut in with some comforting words, “You’re okay, I’ve got you” and  “I’m so proud of you, baby”. 

Eventually your words died out and you lay in slience for a few minutes until Eddie said “Can I say something?” 

You nodded against his chest and he gently tapped on your arms before pulling you up to look at him. 

“You are the most incredible person I have ever met. Every day you just amaze me. The way you talk- shit, the way you talk about the things you love? Oh my god, I could listen to you talk about your interests for hours. Because you get this little gleam in your eye and you do thing where you don’t even finish your first thought before you’re moving onto the next thing.” You watched him talk, you let him talk instead of cutting him off and insisting he was wrong. 

“Baby you are so fucking strong. You just keep fighting and I don’t know how you do it. Because you do it on your own, and it kills me to watch. It kills me to watch you close yourslef off from everyone else and fight on your own. I just- I just want to be there for you. I want you to come to me when you need help, and I know you won’t do that just yet- maybe not ever. Because you’re not used to having that, but that’s okay because I will wait for you, i will always be here ready to catch you or fall with you or sit and cry with you, if that’s what you need.” 

You were crying again and Eddie lifted a hand to wipe away the tears that were staining your flushed cheeks. 

“And you’re so beautiful it kills me that you don’t see that. There is not one goddamn thing I would change about you. Nothing. I swear on my life, fuck I swear on Wayne’s life, I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Everything about you makes me feel week in the knees baby I swear.” Eddie’s saccharine sweet voice found it’s home in you and calmed something inside you that you thought could never be calmed. 

“I love you.” It was all you could say. Those were the only three words you could muster that encapsulated how you felt right now. And it scared you to death to say them, but you figured that if loving someone scared you that meant it was the real thing. 

Without missing a beat Eddie said, “I love you too.” 

He pulled you to him and kissed you. It was gentle, sweet. You breathed him in and let his lips say everything else you weren’t ready to hear yet. You kissed until you had to pull away reluctantly to breathe. 

Eddie rest his forehead against yours and you both closed your eyes for a second, simply being with each other was enough. 

Until- “Wait, didn’t you order a pizza?” 

“No. I knew something was going on with you and I couldn’t do anything until I knew you were okay.” 

“Oh.” 

“Oh I’m sorry did you want a pizza?” Eddie’s voice was laced with sarcasm as he pulled away from you to stare at you. It made you laugh. 

“No, I just want you.” You told him, pushing him down flat agains the bed and moving to rest your head on his chest. Eddie let you move him, he let you lie curled into the side of him, half on top of him, before he pulled a blanket over both of you. 

“Can you stay in here tonight. I don’t want you to sleep on the couch.” Your voice was muffled by the way you buried your head against his chest, but he still heard you. 

“Yeah angel, I’m not going anywhere.” 

That’s how you fell asleep that night, with Eddie’s arms wrapped around you and so close to him that there wasn’t even room left for air to get between the two of you. You slept so deeply that night that you knew you didn’t ever want to sleep without Eddie again. 

Which was good. Because Eddie wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

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authors note i wrote this last week during a very difficult time. this is very self-indulgent. the writing is not good, i wrote this with no outline, no plot, nothing. i know this is not my best work at all but i still wanted to post it. you've been warned <3

taglist @joeschains

(tumblr please don't delete the last line of this babe i love you)

[bisexualbrainrots]

for my 911 what if, I once mentioned to @a-mel0n how I'd like for bucktommy's first kiss + time to happen in 3x09 because it just fitted with the theme of the episode (fallout) so I came up with this (long) snippet of their scenes from the ep (1/4). i also wrote this while sleepy so sorry if there are any inconsistencies <3

they're in tommy's place btw!

also, with some help I decided to keep the abby thing, but here it's way juicier! also yeah I'd like to tell y'all about andy sometime, he's the best.

The fridge made that sound again as it was opened, two cold beers being pulled out of it “And I’m sitting there thinking to myself “I have to run, I cannot be a second more with this guy”, that’s why I texted you, actually” 

Buck nods as Tommy gives him one of the bottles, open by the time it reaches his hands “Oh so I was just the distraction then” he smirks at the older, tilting his head, giving the beer a sip as the bottle reaches his lips and Tommy rolls his eyes, taking a sip too.

“Pretty much” he said deadpan as he leaned against the refrigerator.

His date had been horrible, and Tommy was ready to curse at one of his basketball buddies who suggested a blind date. The man wasn’t ugly by any chance, even making Tommy feel weak in his knees when he saw him, but it was his personality that made him want to run towards a cliff. The guy was negativity incarnate, complaining about anything and everything: the place was too quiet, the music wasn’t that great, the waiters were too slow, and the food wasn’t so good. But the last straw was something Tommy could never accept on anyone.

“He said he hates sweets Evan, I mean, What the hell?” Tommy moved towards the living room with Buck following him behind.

“To be fair, I don’t think there’s anyone who has the same sweet tooth as you, Tommy” Buck chuckled when the older shot him one of his looks, and shook his head as they sat on the couch.

“And it’s their loss then” he drank another sip of his beer, resting his head on the cushions “Hating sweets… What else does he hate? Rainbows? Fun?” he nudged Buck's shoulder when he heard the, very loud, laugh come out of his lips “Don’t laugh at me Evan!”

“I… I'm sorry” he had to take deep breaths to calm himself down “But you have to admit it's kind of funny that you're so worked up about a guy not liking sweets, I don't even eat them so often”

Tommy leaned in closer to Buck “That’s just because you try to get on ketosis every year, Don't forget I've seen you on cheat days too!” A second of silence happened before the two men were laughing, shoulders shaking as they tried to compose themselves again “Okay, okay… maybe I'm thinking too much about it, but it's just that I wanted my first time back in the dating scene to feel… special? I guess? I just… I wanted something good, not a date from hell” he sighed, taking another sip.

Buck tilted his head, a comforting smile on his lips “Was the guy at least cute?”

Tommy left the bottle on the coffee table to cover his face with hands and groaned as he sank his body into the couch “He was, and so hot too, which I don't know if it makes it worse that he was such a… pessimist, if I want to be nice” 

Buck whistled “Jeez, I don't want to imagine what you would call him if you weren't nice” he snickered when Tommy's fingers revealed his, very, annoyed eyes “But I get it, after Abby…” he stiffened, not knowing if it was appropriate to continue.

They hadn't really talked about Abby yet, besides that one time before Buck moved out of her apartment, and the younger didn’t know how to approach the subject either, not wanting to make Tommy uncomfortable.

The older gave him a sympathetic look, gesturing at him to continue “It’s okay, we can talk about her”

Buck took a breath, leaving his bottle on the table before speaking “After her I didn’t feel ready either, and it didn’t get any better when I realised I wasn’t the same guy I was before, like… I didn’t want to have something meaningless just to fill a void” he looked down when talking, avoiding the older’s gaze as he fidgeted with his fingers, “I’d say she was… transformative, in a way” he exhaled deeply, furrowing his brows “If I’m honest, a part me feels like I wasted so much time wishing for her to come back, and I regret it, you… You shouldn’t regret this Tommy, a bad date it’s better than stalling” 

Tommy held his shoulder for a while, squeezing a little to give him comfort “Hey, you’re better now Evan, and I could see back then how you weren’t ready to move on so, I don’t think you stalled, not really and… Thank you, for everything”

Buck lifted his head, a question in his face as he looked at the older “Tommy I… What do you mean “everything”?”

Tommy gave him a soft smile, shifting his body and resting his head on the heel of his hand “You helped me when Andy…” he took a deep breath, looking up for a few seconds before turning his gaze back to Buck “When he left, and you were the only to actually ask me how I was doing when nobody wanted to”

Buck frowned “They wanted to, Tommy, it’s just… they thought it was best for you to come to them when you were ready, Chimney almost caved once too” it was his turn to squeeze the other’s shoulder now, stroking the fabric “The only difference between them and me is that I don’t care that I get into everyone’s business” both men chuckled, the air feeling much lighter.

“Okay, but still, thank you for that I… I really needed someone then and I’m glad it was you, even though at the time it didn’t feel like it”

“Oh I know it, I had to fight the words out of you Kinard” he grinned at the older, who once again rolled his eyes at Buck, pushing his shoulder lightly. He looked at him for a while, a question popping into his mind suddenly, “Hey, can I ask you something unrelated?”

“Yeah?”

“Were you ever uncomfortable with me before I dated Abby?”

Tommy was stunned, not expecting the question, but also not understanding the point Buck was trying to make, or insinuating “Uhm, what do you mean Evan?”

Buck exhaled looking away, knowing the explanation could make it worse “I mean… I know I was a bit of a player before, new girl every night kind of guy and I fear… that it was one of the reasons you hated me so much” he brought his left leg closer to his chest, caressing the knee to soothe himself.

“Evan… I, I never hated you, not really” Tommy moved his body closer, chasing Buck’s gaze to make sure they were eye to eye “I mean, yeah, you were stupid and reckless and I really didn’t like it when you called me Thomas but real hate? I couldn’t really, and about the sleeping around thing…” he looked down for a few seconds before turning his gaze back on Buck, an embarrassed smile accompanying it “I can’t really judge when I used to do the same”

The younger’s eyes were wide open “W-what? How?” 

“Well, there’s something called dating apps, where you—”

“I know what a dating app is Tommy, I just” he exhaled through his nose, a nervous laugh coming out of his mouth “I never thought of you as the type to hookup, not that you couldn’t, I mean… but I just, you seem like such a romantic too”

And he was. Everything about Tommy screamed hopeless romantic.

“Who says you can’t be both?” he let out a short laugh, looking at Buck softly “I’ve always been in love with love I guess, it’s just, after Abby I turned to sex as a sort of self-destructive behavior” Tommy didn’t like to think about that time of his life anymore, the painful realization being too much for him sometimes “I slept with a lot of guys and I mean, a lot, but it never made me feel good or like I deserved to have anything good, it was more like a reminder that I, that I wasn’t allowed to be happy after what I did to her—” whatever he was gonna say next was stopped by the feel of two arms wrapping themselves around him “Evan?”

“I… I’m sorry” the words came like a whisper in his ear, which would make Tommy shiver in any other context but here they were overwhelming him.

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t… You never…”

“I’m sorry you felt that way, Tommy… I know I was a pain in the ass then, and I probably still am” he grinned against the skin of the older’s neck “But you deserve love, you may have hurt people but you are good, Tommy” Buck moved his head back, looking at Tommy deep in the eyes “You are a good person, even if you don’t believe it sometimes”

Tommy wanted to cry, his eyes glistening but not daring to go beyond that. For so long he hated himself so much, and let himself be used to prove that point. One-night stands that made him feel empty, bathroom and alleyway hookups that kept the momentum going, shame overpowering his body. Opening himself to love wasn’t easy, not even with a guy as good as Andy was, but he didn’t want to live in a lie anymore, he didn’t want to let hate burn him from the inside out and consume him.

Tommy gripped Buck’s back, not wanting to let him go just yet “Sometimes I think it’s funny, that my own self-hatred was projected onto many of my relationships, ours included”

Buck arched an eyebrow, intrigued “What do you mean?”

Tommy’s hands left the younger’s back almost as an instinct, feeling a heat reach his cheeks as he pulled away, embarrassment crossing his face “I… okay, don’t laugh please” when Buck reassured him he wasn’t going to he took a deep breath and leaned to take a sip of his beer, pretending it would give him courage “Alright, I… when we met I actually thought you were pretty cute, like I could’ve asked you out kind of cute”

Buck heard the record scratch in his brain, there was nothing else but those words.

‘I thought you were pretty cute’

“And that lasted exactly five seconds until you called me by my name” Tommy hid his face on the back pillows, groaning as his words were muffled by them “I can’t believe I just told you that”

“Tommy, you… you aren’t playing with me, right?” the older looked up, confused at the hitch in Buck’s voice. He looked different, something in him had changed in the way he was looking at Tommy, the older could swear he was seeing a glimmer in his eyes, but shook his head internally, thinking it must be the alcohol.

“No, why would I?”

Buck’s body shifted, his side resting on the back pillows as he leaned closer to Tommy, without invading his space “Okay, this may be funny too but… I sort of got jealous when you told us about Andy”

Tommy tensed up, a million questions popping on his mind as he locked eyes with Buck “Wait, jealous? Why?”

Buck tilted his head, a shy smile appearing on his lips “I… I started to feel like that when you probably started seeing him, y-you changed the way you behaved around me, almost as if… I wasn’t worthy of your time anymore” he remembered how it felt, that strange sensation in his chest the first time Tommy stopped fighting him back, making a passing comment instead “Now I know that’s a stupid way of thinking of course, but, I didn’t realise how much I secretly liked getting your attention”

Tommy looked at him wide-eyed, a thought— a desire crossing his mind “My attention?”

“Yeah I guess so” he chuckled, a soft look in his eyes and a warm grin settling in “I… I was so envious of how easy it was for Andy to get your atten—” suddenly all thoughts were replaced with static when he felt the older’s fingers grab his chin and pull him in.

Tommy was kissing him.

Tommy Kinard was kissing him, on the lips. And Buck was returning it.

It was so gentle and sweet, warmth flowing through their bodies as the few seconds the kiss lasted stretched until it felt like hours, hours none of them wanted to end. Tommy’s hands were in different places, one resting on the younger’s chest while the other landed safely on one of the thighs, simply laying there. Buck’s hands were another story, not knowing where to put them, they gravitate around Tommy’s shoulders tentatively, never landing them anywhere before the kiss broke.

Buck opened his eyes first, looking at Tommy like he was from another planet, and with that a light-switch turned on his brain, a realization with it.

When Tommy’s eyes opened he saw a vision: a pair of glassy blue eyes looking back at him, pink lips agape, and a blush across the cheeks he desperately wanted to kiss now.

“Like that?” his mouth was faster than his head, letting him say things unfiltered.

“Yeah… yeah, that works” Buck was dumbfounded, one phrase crowding everything inside his brain: kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

Tommy gave him one of his scrunchy smiles, the ones Buck had only seen directed at the older’s ex, and he felt good about it. He felt like he was the object of Tommy’s attention, and that was making him feel giddy inside, yearning to keep that going for as long as the older would want to. Buck got closer, their chest almost brushing the other’s.

“So that was okay?” the older asked, and Buck just wanted to jump him and join their lips again, but he held back even though his skin was itching with want.

“Tommy that was… better than okay, I…” Buck’s brain was officially scrambled, trying so hard to make neural connections and actually work to get the words out “I want to— I need to… God, I can’t think straight” he chuckled, leaning his head on Tommy’s shoulder, who proceeded to sink his fingers into his hair, playing with it. Buck was actually in heaven.

“Metaphorically or literally?” he let out a small laugh when Buck admitted to both, and let him lean back to look into each other’s eyes, Tommy’s hand traveling to cup the younger’s face “Hey”

“Hey”

Tommy nudged their noses together, enjoying the moment without getting to kissing just yet. There was a tenderness in the way he was treating Buck that he had never once tried on him before, and it was giving them whiplash. All the time disliking each other didn’t matter, not when Tommy had just changed Buck’s entire life.

“Tommy…” the neediness in Buck’s voice left the older feeling like all the air was out of his lungs, not knowing how to breathe properly.

“Yes, Evan?” The hitch in Tommy’s voice was making the younger feel like his skin was on fire, desperately wanting the other to put it off.

Buck gave him a peck, and then another, and another one as they leaned on the cushions, Tommy’s head resting on the armrest. Buck deepened the kiss, the feeling of Tommy’s wet tongue driving him to the edge in a matter of seconds, nothing else existing. The younger cupped the older’s face with his hands as the kiss continued, looking more like a makeout session at this point. He bit the other’s lower lip, getting a soft moan out of Tommy.

“I need… I need… more, Tommy, I want more” he said between kisses, and sighed against the older man's mouth when he felt his fingers digging inside his shirt, settling on his waist.

“I want that too, but… Are you sure Evan?” Tommy had to ask, even though he just wanted to have Buck all to himself and touch every inch of his body, a heat settling in his belly.

Buck nodded, a playful smile on his face “I’m sure, I want, I only want you now Tommy” and that did it for him, next thing he knew Buck dived back in, their tongues fighting as the younger started to grind against him, sighing with content.

If there was anything like Heaven, Tommy knew he must be in some version of it. And he was loving it.

[sofs16]

ripples in our love

part 1: paddock day , part 2: our leclerc win, part 3: our love in photos, part 4: our home — next

not proofread and lots of text / paragraphs ahead:)

“are you sure you don’t want to come with me” charles asked as he was putting on his shoes.

“charles, i’ve been with you all year and break, have fun with your friends.. just not too much fun” you laughed, clutching your robe closer to your waist as a shiver went down your spine from the ac.

“but i love spending time with you, amour” he sighed, standing up, holding your face between his palms, and kissing you.

“what, you don’t wanna drink and be manly?” you raised a brow “i mean… i do…” he thought about it “go” you whispered with a reassuring smile. you weren’t one for parties and a part of you was worried charles was being restrained to hang out with his friends because of that, so you encouraged him to have a night out before the races.

“i’ll be back by 12” he kissed you for the last time and you giggled “you better come back home to me, leclerc” you scolded “of course, where else?” and then the door shut.

2am, that’s what the time was. you were sat on the couch in your shared apartment. it was 2 hours since you saw that nightmare of a post. you have been getting multiple texts by the minute.

a part of you wanted to be childish and run away, never facing him. but that wouldn’t be right at all.

you heard the keys jingling on the other side of the door and heard a grunt and stumble. you gulped but trained your eyes on the tv, not really watching the episode of gossip girl.

“amour! you’re here!” charles replied with a cheer in a sluggish manner. he frowned when you didn’t turn around to look at him, or greet him with a kiss or hug as you usually did.

“amour?” he mumbled, stumbling over the couch, clearly drunk. his eyes lit up once they saw your face and he trained to kiss you but you held his face in between your hands before he could. “are you thinking straight right now, charles?”

no nickname. the gears in charles’ head weren’t fast enough at the moment.

“of course, let’s go to bed” he smiled “charles, you kissed another woman” you said quietly, as if you didn’t want to believe it

“No! That’s crazy. I only love you. You only. You’re my everything. I dont like anyone else. You’re my girlfriend. I’ll make you my wife one day” he said against your chest, shaking his head

you found yourself to be someone who cries when they’re frustrated or overly happy. “let’s talk in the morning and get you into bed, ‘kay?” you helped him up as he tried his best to sober up.

unlike the many showers you had together, you left him to shower on his own, making sure he was balanced enough before shutting the bathroom door.

the shower sobered him up quickly. cold water tricking down his body as he revisited the events of tonight. oh how he had messed up.

he stepped out of the shower to see his favorite shirt out, though all his favorite shirts were yours, it was his that was put out. he walked out of the bathroom to find you setting down the trashcan beside the bed, just in case.

“amour, can we talk please?” he held your hand but you dropped it. “tomorrow charles, okay? let’s get you to rest first” you pulled the covers over him, made him take headache pills.

“you… are not sleeping beside me?” he asked as you made your way to the door. “not tonight, charles” you whispered, turning off the lights and shutting the door.

though he was overthinking that night, the alcohol helped him sleep throughout that night, unlike you.

he woke up and frowned at there being no dip on your pillow and side of the bed. he rubbed his eyes, taking his cellphone and that’s when he remembered it all.

he jumped up the bed and rushed in getting the door open, in hopes to find you. you were sitting at the dining table, staring at the floor below you, tiredness evident through your eyes.

“amour?” you looked up “do you remember it?” you asked and he nodded, taking the seat adjacent to you. “why” you turned to him, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“i- i don’t know. i swear- amour i thought she was you” “i’m fucking blonde, charles” you furrowed your eyebrows

“you know how i am after i drink” true “i don’t- i don’t know what to do, charles” you shut your eyes closed

“amour please, you mean everything to me, you are my everything. if i could take it back or if i had stayed at home with you that night, i would. please don’t leave me” he held your hand quietly. you couldn’t say anything.

silence greeted him.

“tell me what you are thinking. call me names, scream at me, i do not care— just let me in” he asked.

when he said that, he thought you would burn him to the ground and pick on every flaw he had, even hearing you say you wish you had never dated him. your words… were not that.

“i think…im thinking if i’m enough for you” charles was shocked. “i think about all the girls you could have who are prettier, more famous, kinder, and everything more than i am but you’re stuck with me” you groan in frustration as tears start to well up. “and i can’t help but see you with someone else and it hurts” there they were, tears falling too quick for you to see. charles had never seen you cry, truthfully. “it hurts knowing— you could just leave me and maybe even be with that girl you were kissing last night” you sniffled

“yn,” he said quietly, wiping your tears away “i don’t want to be with anyone else. only you. and i don’t care if they are the models of the year or what. you are the prettiest girl to me and- i cannot let you think that low of yourself. i am so sorry, amour. please, let me fix this somehow. anything, i will do anything”

“i think i need space and time, charles” you looked up to his face. he knew if it weren’t serious right now, you most likely would’ve made an avengers infinity stone joke you were thinking about it, but no words came out

“i- yes. i understand. i’ll go out for a whil-” “i mean, i’ll go back to the house in paris for some while” “what?” his heart sank. “it makes sense right now charles. i need space to think and plus, i was going to go there anyways for fashion week” you rubbed your eyes.

charles knew your relationship with your parents were wobbly as you moved away from france to live in spain. but going back to them? that was how bad this was.

“are you breaking up with me?” he wobbled. “no, i just- i don’t know! i need to think charles” you stood up “please, yn! you- you are the only one for me please do not leave me” he pleaded hugging you from behind.

he hugged that girl from behind.

“you were in this position when you kissed her” you said quietly and charles shuddered at the thought of being with someone who isn’t you. “i’m sorry” you nodded and made a beeline to your bedroom.

30 minutes later you came out with 2 suitcases in hand. it was real. you were leaving. “will- will you be at the gp?” he asked quietly. maybe a little selfishly, but you were his comfort especially during nerve-wracking times like gps. you shook your head no. and he nodded, in understanding.

“do you want me to drive you to the airport?” he asked and you shook your head again. “good luck charles” you sighed, kissing his cheek. you meant for the gp— but so many things were going through his head. ‘good luck living a life without me’ was one of them.

yn.charlesupdate

liked by 2,438 others

yn.charlesupdate No yn at the paddock. Oh we’re done for. view all 7,337 comments

lestappen12 what did you think? she just saw the love of her life kissing another woman 2 days ago…

ferr4ribae im tired. august 25, 2024

charles_leclerc

liked by 3,449,494 others

charles_leclerc P2 for you :) Shame for what happened to Lewis on the first lap, we were lucky to finish the race even with the damage we had. See you next year, Zandvoort.

view all 2,484,399 comments

charlesyn17 He really got guts to post this like he didn’t just CHEAT on yn.

chachahaa cant believe you cheated on yn. she treated you like a king. that’s what’s a shame.

checheco1 Lewis deserved that P2 after what you did to yn.

nightleclerc … i can’t keep defending you charles

alphmercedez i hope you dnf 😊

august 26, 2024

yn instagram stories :

viewers — 3,595,606

❤️ charles_leclerc liked

❤️ maxverstappen1 liked

❤️ landonorris liked

❤️ yourbsf liked

and 1,832,584 others liked this story

yns_love

liked by yn, and 473 others

yns_love yn actin like he didn’t just cheat on her… but ok mother we love& trust u and will stfu

view all 1,494 comments

august 30, 2024

yncharle

liked by 6,373 others

yncharle 2 races with no yn. charles p3. 2 weeks radio silence from yn. bye.

view all 1,474 comments

september 11, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 10,484,484 others

yn 💌

view all 2,585,686 comments

leclerc_pascale Beautiful ❤️

⤷ yn merci maman 😆

⤷ ynlelllerc STOP 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹😭

landonorris You look cool in that 3rd photo 😎

⤷ yn cuz i am cool, landito! like u😊

⤷ carlossainz55 thats not true

⤷ yn dont be mean carlitos, youre cool too🫀

⤷ wagsgrid her interacting with the grid is so wholesome 🥹

ynsbeaut SHES BACK BITCHES!!

[liked by yn]

dior 🤍

charlesbae jesus did she buy the whole dior show?

⤷ yn GIRL IM NOT THAT RICH 😭 it was for fashion week 🤭

chachaaaa Are she and charles still together?

16s55love why is she just ignoring what happened.. she seems unbothered, did she even love charles :/

⤷ yn we’re handling this privately so please respect that and dont make such assumptions. and i do love charles, dearly :)

[liked by charles_leclerc]

⤷ ynscharles I CANT. THEYRE MY PARENTS YOUR HONOR

softwags._ will you be at baku?

september 12, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

august 21, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Amour, I am so sorry and I hope you know I never meant for this to happen and you are the only one for me.❤️

y/n/n🤪🤍💒

thanks charles but i just need time, okay? :)

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Of course, yes. I will just be messaging you every now and then, would that be alright?

y/n/n🤪🤍💒

mhm. good luck on sunday, charles

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Thank you, belle. I will do my best for you❤️

[yn reacted ❤️]

.august 22, 2024

sharlie brown🫀🏎️

Hi belle❤️ If I am being honest, I am nervous for tomorrow and I wish you were here. I hope you are doing alright there. [yn reacted ❤️]

.august 24, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

hello ynn! I got P2 in today’s qualifying though I hope I can turn it into a win tomorrow. We miss you here at the paddock

.august 26, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Hello amour❤️ Remained P2 today but unfortunately took Lewis out:/ I’m sure I’ll be getting an earful from the Mercedes fans but it is alright. I miss you and love you

.august 28, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Hello, love! Thank you for the story you posted. I hope you are alright and doing well there. Don’t over work yourself, please. I have just landed in Monza and as usual, the fans are crazy! I wish you were here to feel the love they share for you as well. I miss and love you

.august 31, 2024

sharlie brown🫀🏎️

hi love:) I am quite stressed at the moment since the car engine almost gave in during the last turn. I feel it is my fault… anyways, I do not know if you have been watching. I hope you are doing alright. I love and miss you ❤️

september 1, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

P3 today. Disappointed to say the least because if I pushed more I could have won for you.I saw on twitter you are in fashion week already?Do what you love:) ❤️

forgot to say hi… Hi! I love and miss you

y/n/n🤪🤍💒 Don’t blame it on yourself, Charles. You can’t always be perfect or always P1 even if you want to. The most you can do is try your best next time and enjoy. You’re world champion and leading the world champion points now:) Fashion week is stressful but I can manage. Stay safe, Charles. I love you.

september 3, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Hello my love, thank you. I really needed that. I wish I had replied sooner but I have been sleeping a lot.. haha. You will do great, I know you will. I love you, amour and miss you more than you know😘

september 5, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Hello, beautiful! How is France?:)

y/n/n🤪🤍💒

hi charles:) france is good as always

sharlie brown🫀🏎️

Amazing photos! I miss you and love you❤️

september 10, 2024

y/n/n🤪🤍💒

would you mind if i went to baku this week and we talked?

#SOF: thoughts? :)

thank u btw for all the support in this lil series<3

@glow-ish — your tag! lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part! feel free to also send in messages thru the ask box hehe