#fic: a small request

[postracehair]

a small request

max verstappen x reader | 2k

even world champions deserve love letters. after missing the mexico gp, you're determined to see max have a good weekend in brazil. maybe all it takes is a handwritten note.

cw: fem!reader, being in love, softness, a track-side kiss, love letters. and google translate, sorry to any dutch speakers.

a/n: was this inspired by that video from austin? yeah, it was! sue me! also, written/posted before the gp, so. no race details <3 xx

__

You miss race weekend in Mexico. It happens. You can't be there every weekend, much as you'd like to be. You're even more peeved about it after, considering you quite like Carlos and wish you had seen him earn what very well might be his last win with Ferrari. But you're mostly upset because Max, though he won't say so, could probably have used your support.

Years of experience have him calm, cool, and collected despite the team troubles. Flippant, some headlines say. Mad Max, others. But you know he's probably just tired. Tired of the media, of the FIA, of the churning conflict between him and Lando -- something you all knew was coming someday, but maybe not so suddenly. The longest season ever continues to drag and drag and drag.

"Twenty seconds was...Christ, Max," you say. You know what happened, of course. You watched what you could, saw the sharp moves around the corner and heard the radios. It never gets easier, watching him take risks like that. Usually, everyone else backs off, but McLaren can see victory on the horizon and won't let it go. You can't blame them, either of them, you just wish it was all a bit less tense.

"I know," he says, voice raspy over the connection. "I -- well, you know how I feel about it. Don't want to say anything in case the FIA is tapping my phone."

You laugh into your hand so you don't disturb the other people in the airline lounge, not entirely used to places like this, still. Max has told you over and over that it's absurd for you to spend your own money when you're coming to see him all over the world. When you told him you moved things around so you could come to Brazil, he booked you the nicest ticket, per usual.

"Oh, ha, ha," you say. "Don't give them any ideas, Mr. Community Service." You sigh. "Do you need anything? Be honest."

"Aren't you at the airport already? Your flight should be leaving in --" A pause, like he's checking his watch -- "forty minutes."

You glance up at the departures screen. He's right, but you don't give it to him so easily. "Know my schedule, do you?"

"Well, I booked your ticket, so I should think so."

"Your assistant booked it, you mean."

He hums and you picture him in his hotel room, maybe at the window, looking over the city. "I know your flight information. Don't be silly."

"I mean it, Max," you say again. "Is there anything I can do to make the weekend better?" It's a bit of a useless question and you expect him to answer with a snarky get me a new car or apply for the position of steward.

But he doesn't. He clears his throat.

"I'm just glad you're coming," he says, softly. "I've missed you."

You never doubt how Max feels about you, but he must be pretty tired to admit it like this. He's all about actions, this man. Making sure you have what you need when you're at the track, arranging your travel, remembering your schedule. He shows you how much you matter, and that's more than enough. He never wants to make you feel bad for having a life beyond being his girlfriend. And this doesn't, not really. It just makes you ache, fills your chest with the hopeless affection you've felt for him for so long.

"I've missed you, too," you reply. "But I'd like to be useful."

"Oh, I can think of a few things, then," Max says, all of a sudden all cheek. Such a boy, sometimes. A boy in love.

You can't help but laugh, face hot. "Hush, you!"

He huffs. A few beats of silence, the comfortable, well-worn kind. Sometimes, when he's halfway across the world and up late on the sim, he'll call you just to hear you breathe.

"Max?"

"I -- do you remember what you did for my birthday?"

He'd wanted something small, quiet. There was a lot of work to be done with the team but three weekends off meant you had a little time to yourselves. A few days hardly leaving his place, a dinner with some of the guys, a cake you made yourself, hand-delivered in bed. Gifts for a very wealthy man are difficult, especially since Max doesn't seem to want much.

"Oh, the pillow with my face on it?"

Max laughs. The lounge loudspeaker announces that your flight is going to board soon, so you gather your things but keep your phone wedged next to your ear.

"No, the other thing," he says. He clears his throat and summons some of that World Champion courage. "The letter."

You'd written him a fairly long love letter, thinking it would be a nice thing to carry to the races you couldn't be at this fall. It was tempting to be embarrassed about it when you gave it to him the morning of his birthday, but his cheeks had gone pink and he'd buried his face in your neck.

"Oh, that," you say. The airport is busier outside the lounge and you push your case in the direction of your gate weaving between. people.

"You could write me another, maybe."

Max is direct. He is honest, at work and at home, but this surprises you a little.

"You do know I'm about to get on a plane to see you, right?"

He huffs, and you imagine his cheeks pink, eyes bright. "You asked!"

"I'll write you another love letter, Max Verstappen," you assure him. "I'll write you a hundred."

"One is a fine start," he says firmly. "You should be boarding soon, and I've got to go to the press conference. Text me when you've landed?"

"Of course," you reply, eyes rolling though he can't see. "I'll see you soon, okay? Love you."

"Love you, liefje."

On the plane, you tear out some pages from your journal. You'd prefer to have some nice stationery like what you wrote on for his birthday, but maybe this is more romantic, more real. Making do with that you've got because he asked.

In the last one, you told him your memories of when you first met. How your stomach swooped when you made him laugh, how his blue eyes wouldn't leave your dreams. In this one you tell him about when you first realized you loved him. How absurdly early you were sure, how badly you wanted to tell him for weeks. The way you remember every second of when you blurted it out -- his face, his smile. His voice in your ear, telling you over and over, geliefde, ik houd van je, zo veel. I love you, so much.

"You're working hard on that," someone says. You look up at your seatmate, a woman a few decades older than you with a heavy accent.

You feel a little like you've been caught doing something illicit, but you just smile at her. "For my boyfriend," you tell her. "A love letter."

She flattens her palm over heart and sighs. "How lovely," she coos. "I hope he takes care of you, too."

We take care of each other, you want to say. You could tell her about how he sends you postcards from every country he goes to after you told him you like to put them on your fridge. You could tell her how sometimes you text him during his streams to make him laugh on camera. How he remembers your favorites, how he saves you his special team gear, how he sends you flowers all the time. How he likes to sit on the couch, your toes under his thigh, fingers around your ankle. How you've been learning Dutch and how he patiently corrects your pronunciation. You could go on and on and on.

"He does," you say instead.

__

The plane lands safely in Brazil, but the pilot tells you that there is no open gate and that you'll be sitting for a while. You text Max.

stuck on tarmac, will be later than expected! :(

He must be in media responsibilities still because he doesn't reply until you finally get off the plane.

go relax at the hotel. i'll see you for dinner!

You find your ride easy enough and take a deep breath. The letter you wrote on the plane feels heavy in your pocket, and you just want to see Max. To be near him again. To give him this small thing he asked for.

"Excuse me," you say to the driver. "Do you think we could go to the track, instead?"

You text Max's assistant to say you're headed there, hoping it's not too much of an inconvenience. You're told he's almost done, maybe an hour left, and when you arrive you're led to his driver rooms. His shit is everywhere, per usual. Max is quite neat except in here -- Carmen once told you that George is the same. Clothes strewn about, his race boots unlaced and left in the way, warm-up equipment in a pile. On the table are a few of his things -- his wallet, a notebook, some papers.

Wait a second. One of those papers looks...familiar. It's been folded in three, the envelope it came in nowhere to be seen. His name is scrawled on the blank side in your hand and when you tug it from the pile you can see that it's creased, the edges a little more worn than when you gave it to him a few months ago. Max Verstappen, three-time World Champion, actually carries around the love letter you wrote him. Brings it to the track. It's darling. You love him so much. You pull the new one from your pocket and set them side-by-side on the table where he'll find them.

You ask to be taken to the pit wall, please, so you can see whatever the drivers are doing on track. Some dedication, you're told. The timing ends up being perfect and you get there just as they're finishing. You lean on a gap in the barrier where, on Sunday, crew members will be holding timing signs as the drivers zip around the hot pavement. The crowd in the stands is loud, as always, and maybe you imagine it but it seems to get a little louder when you look out.

The guys are talking amongst themselves and a few of them wave at you. You spot Max as he turns away from Charles and you can't help but grin. His eyes meet yours under his cap and his entire face chances, softens, and he breaks into a jog. You lean out over the concrete ledge and meet him in a kiss that's more two smiles pressed together than anything else.

"This is a surprise," he says when he pulls away. Eyes sparkling, he shows no signs of rejoining the other drivers as they head to whatever their next thing is. Photos, probably.

"I missed you," you tell him. "I've left you something in your room."

"Oh?" He straightens the lanyard of your credentials with careful fingers.

You reach for him, palm on his cheek. His stubble tickles and he leans into it ever so slightly. It doesn't feel like there are thousands of eyes on you, not even a little.

"Yeah," you say. "As promised." Someone calls his name. "Go on, then. I'll be waiting."

He kisses you again, a quick brush of his lips on the corner of your mouth.

Later, you'll wake from your nap in the hotel room to those same kisses on your cheeks, your forehead. Max will gather you in his arms and tell you all the moments he almost told you he loved you, how he could hardly believe when you said it first. You'll tease him for how many times he's read that first letter and he'll cheekily say that's why he needs more. And you will write him more, you'll write him as many as he wants. As many as you can, for the rest of your lives.

But now, in front of thousands of screaming fans, he smiles at only you, boyish and pleased.

[haiisx]

Could u... By any chance..... Draw stainmight 👁️👁️

Ask and you shall receive!!

So i decided to do a little research on AO3 on what the stainmight enjoyers are up to, and I found the fic Let's Not Make Promises We Can't Keep. I really, really like it so far, so I decided to draw a scene from the first chapter :))

another sketch + closeups (and one stupid meme) below the cut!

i think they can match each other's freak

[chunniwritesalot]

crashing - ls x vowles reader

uhmmmmm... ANYWAY

ok honestly this is kind of rushed but i still like it- at first i wasn't going to post it but then a few people told me to sooo this one is for y'allll. don't mind the fact i didn't make a banner and have to use my generic one but canva was being a real pain in my ass this morning.

uhmmm i wrote this before monday (so before he was dropped) i must've accidentally manifested something because WOW uhmmm... LOGAN IM SO SO SO SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN IT.

cw: sad logan, cursing maybe because i wrote this like last week and forget, not proofread!!

wc: idk 😆

any gender reader :)

-start-

the soft waves crashed against the cool sand, the salty smell carried by the slight breeze. logan looked out from the damp, cold rock he was sitting on, the moon casting its reflection on the dark sea.

god, what was he doing here?

before he could think again, footsteps echoed behind him. it wasn’t a stranger. no, it was someone he recognized—well.

but did he want to see them now? after everything? their face looked so familiar, yet so foreign.

he felt their warm touch on his back as they settled beside him. they didn’t need to speak for logan to understand what they meant.

the silence between them stretched, thin and fragile, before you finally broke it with four soft words.

“i’m proud of you.” your voice blended into the waves, the breeze, the cold.

logan shook his head, wiping at the unfallen tears threatening to spill over. “everyone says that, but look where i am now,” he said bitterly, burying his face in his hands. he didn’t want to see you now—so why was he letting you stay?

“i knew dad was up to something,” you whispered, disgust lacing your words. “just didn’t think he’d stoop this fucking low.”

logan shrugged. “yeah, we all saw it coming.” he tried to play it off, but the sharp ache of sadness was too much. he sighed, more resigned this time, before turning slightly toward you and letting the tears come.

you didn’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close as he finally let it out. two years of mistreatment. two years of abuse. two years of misery.

he was done with all of it. free from the restraints the blue had wrapped around him. free from your father, who seemed to hate him with an unfathomable intensity, as though he’d committed some unspeakable wrong.

you didn’t say anything. there was no need. you knew logan understood what you felt—how utterly devastating it was to let someone so close to you destroy your love, piece by piece. your father had told you it was for the best, for the team.

but you couldn’t help feeling it wasn’t.

probably because it wasn’t. when did your father ever act selflessly?

and because he was so unrelentingly cruel, you had to watch the people you loved get pushed aside—out of their careers, out of their dreams.

you just had the misfortune of falling in love with one of them. and that guilt lingered, heavy and sharp, as if it were your fault that the love of your life felt like a failure.

your grip tightened slightly as you stayed with logan, sitting on that cold, damp rock until he was ready to face the world again.

and you would be there with him, every single step of the way.

-fin-

my requests are open! feel free to send one in <3

[sukunasbow]

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 & 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐂𝐒, 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝.

warnings: fluff and smut, switch!reader, oral sex, masturbation, mentions of sending nudes, not yet proof read!

✿ cassie often needs to be reminded to put herself first when the two of you are together, as she’s used to her old partners pressuring her during intimate moments and putting her needs below their needs.

✿ she loves dressing up for you and looking good, because it makes you and her feel good.

✿ her ideal date is when the two of you go skating or go to the carnival.

✿ she also loves going shopping with you! sometimes you’ll spoil her and buy her all the clothes she wants, while other times she’ll spoil you.

✿ she loves words of affirmation and physical touch, it makes her feel loved and appreciated unlike past partners.

✿ you were friends with cassie before dating her, you first met through maddy.

✿ lexi and maddy worked together to get you and cassie to finally confess your feelings to each other. it took time and effort, but cassie eventually gained the courage to ask you to be her girlfriend.

✿ cassie’s comfort foods are sweets, anytime she’s upset or the two of you get into a fight, you go to the closest gas station and get her powdered donuts or mini cupcakes.

✿ your girlfriend is also a very sentimental person, so she likes giving gifts like promise rings and flowers.

✿ everyone knows you and cassie are dating, she never stops talking about her wonderful partner.

✿ she also posts you on her social media a lot, showing off her cute relationship with you.

✿ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 ✿

✿ cassie is a switch, sometimes she prefers to be dominate and take control while other times she prefers when you take control.

✿ she’s a very vocal person, especially when you eat her out.

✿ speaking of eating her out, that’s her favourite thing, she loves it so much.

✿ when she’s not with you and is missing you, she’ll send you videos of her getting off at the thought of you and moaning your name.

✿ she always has a new set of lingerie when you see her, whether it’s a matching bra and thong set or a slip dress.

✿ yk those outfits where some of the thong shows past the skirt or pant line? yeah, cassie loves wearing those outfits around you, teasing you until you give into her temptation.

✿ she also loves wearing outfits that make her boobs look good, knowing you’re going to be thinking about her for the rest of the day.

✿ cassie is also a very experimental person, as long as you talk to her about it and you both feel safe. you’ve definitely had threesomes with maddy before.

[plutoispurplw]

The Story Of Us

Summary: Reader and Timothee!Wonka are having relationship problems and reader is questioning is this is the end of the story of them.

Words: 1K

Couple: Timothée!Wonka x Female reader

A/N: I only did this one shot because three things. 1- Two Days ago the light in my house was gone.

2- The request of @riordanness

3- I love Taylor Swift, you can count how many times I write a name of a song or a lyric.

Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ

My relationship with Willy was great, we we're crazy in love with each other, he was always affectionate like it was our last day alive. He was the love of my life and I knew it. I know it sounds bad but he is the only person or thing that I ever needed, It was like he convert darkness into daylight.

Our personalities were the opposite, I never had hope in people before I met him, always prepared to be stabbed by close people, nothing calm my racing thoughts, always overthinking, I felt haunted so I leave my tired hometown just to discover that I was the problem.

He was the sun and I was the moon.

When I met him after being trapped by Scrubbit, I felt more helpless that I ever felt but then I met him, three days later after I arrived, he become my best friend and then my lover, I always help him to sell his chocolates, and I stay with him after my debt was paid, he was my daylight.

The work of managing the fabric and his store had him tired all the time and stressed out and that when it happen, our bedroom that was our secret oasis become a battle ground, this was a war that neither of us could end without fighting over and over again.

The only thing I could thought before falling asleep was that if this was the end of the story of us. The fairytale was slowly dying and I couldn't bear witness it.

How long can we still be a sad song? How long the silence would last until one of us leave? I didn't even remember the last time we kissed, or cuddle, or even talk in a affectionate way.

One night I was exhausted of this, I needed to feel again his caress and his lips against my collarbone, we were laying on the bed, the silence was still there, I got more closer to him and I tried to hug him but he only pulled away from my hold and got up from the bed.

I finally explode like a volcano. "I'm tired of this, why are you avoiding my touch or hugs like I'm something poisonous!" I yell at him while being sat on my knees on the bed.

"Stop, I don't wanna fight tonight, just stop."

He said with a very annoyed tone, his hands running through his hair.

"I'm tired of the silence, I miss when you cuddle with me while whispering sweet nothings against my hair." Tears streaming down my face, memories replaying like broken records. I got up from the bed and walk towards him. "I know that you're stressed out and that you don't wanna fight but we have to fight, if we keep like this out love is gonna die."

"You adore to fight, don't you? You're always want to fight." His voice sound more frustrated, his eyes fill with a anger I never seen before in him, maybe he was like the rest of the people after all.

"This is the last time we fight and I'm gonna go away, this is your last chance to give me a reason to stay because you're losing me."  He stay quiet and didn't say anything, I just change my clothes and pack my things, he didn't do anything to stop me, I wish he would.

When I left the house, I went to a friend's house, the whole way I was crying, did I ever meant something to him for him to try to fight for me?

I stayed the night there waiting for him to come but then days passed by and then one week and then became almost a month without seeing him.

This is how the things end? My love story never got a happy ending? It was my fault? I was the problem in this situation too? Thoughts like this filled my mind before falling asleep, my dreams were memories of him.

That day I needed to get more clothes and things so I went to our house, when I came into our bedroom I saw him seeing the ceiling, the room look messy, his expression full of sadness when he He saw me, he got up from the bed and walk towards me.

He look like he wanted to talk but how we could talk without screaming at each other? Without yelling that was the others fault. The problem was that I was bleeding and I could just runaway and live but my heart wanted to stay, to try to resolve things even if I bleed more, even if I died.

"I'm sorry, I should have fight or talk with you but I couldn't, I didn't want our love to die but in the end that's what happen." I started to cry, part of me wanted just to kiss him but I was still hurt.

"If you don't want to forgive me, don’t do it but please just understand that I love you and that I never wanted to lose you, why would I? You're perfect and you're the love of my life, since I meet you I meet you that day, I knew that it was fate that brought us together." Tears falling from his eyes, his eyes full of sadness, the happiness and daylight was almost gone.

I don't know who did it first but we were hugging each other like we would die if we didn't, my face against his chest wetting his shirt. He whispering apologies against my hair, his hands caressing my back as I cry.

I pull away to see his face, he was crying too, I stood on my tiptoes, my hands cupped his face and pull him closer to close the gap between our lips, when they touched it feel like heaven. The battleground was back again our secret oasis.

This wasn't the end of the story of us, it was just the start of another chapter in our fairytale

[what-have-i-unleashed]

a little something before bed :]

so some time before killer leaves the gang, when cross has only been in it for a short while (couple weeks maybe). killer sneaks into cross' room (the doors in the palace are never locked) and sits on the bed next to cross' sleeping form (cross is wide awake the moment he hears killer enters and killer knows it but pretends to not know anyway). and killer starts to talk. about his plans. his future. his... regrets.

basically cross is the first one to know that killer is going to defect. he doesn't tell nightmare or anyone else of course. and near the end of the one-sided conversation, killer drops the bomb.

"dusty... he's a bit of a loner, you know. always so broody. always a recluse. when i'm gone..." killer trails off, and cross strains to listen, anticipating. "when i'm gone, take care of him for me, okay?"

[nightdrawz]

Not sure if you read fanfiction, but there is also a fanfic on ao3 called Endearing that is Blue/Yellow. Its very cute, and if you end up liking it, then the author has 2 more Blue/Yellow ones posted on their account. I'd love to see your interpretation of any of the scenes in the fics. ⭐ https://archiveofourown.org/works/49479862 <- link to the fic

“Would it be wrong to say endearing?”

This is the only old art request i kept because i couldn’t get myself delete it (T_T)

I love it too much

Actually read the fanfic before they requested

And the other 2 fanfics ofc

[lululawrence]

x

[barisistill]

can we have some more snippets plz

yes obviously but your punishment for not asking for something specific is that you get my vanity project 'barisi mpreg SNL babymoon skit AU'

Thought that he forgot this dude He's sending him his pregnant nudes

[nimblermortal]

Fic Request

(this one is an actual request, I don't think I want to write it)

Protector of the Small AU in which Jonathan and Wyldon say, "Alanna, you have to stay away from Kel or people will think that you are magicking her to success"

and Alanna answers, "Fuck that. If they think I'm magicking her to success, tell 'em to send their own daughters to get magicked. If they think I'm cheating, have them send so many girls I can't possibly magic them all. Sort it out at the Ordeal."

So Jonathan's official policy is, "Not my business." And the first year is just Kel, and everyone goes, "Alanna is making that happen" and Kel is deliriously happy that Alanna is taking an interest in her and teaching her how to kick bullies in the nuts

And then the second year there's this flush of girls, most of whom go home after they realize Alanna is in fact not magicking them all to success (just Kel)

but by the time Kel is half way through squirehood, there's enough - based on Alanna's recruitment strategy of come on if you're hard enough 'if you think I'm cheating send your own girls and overwhelm me' - that the conservatives are starting to wonder if this might in fact not be a trick. Some of them are good. Some of them are bad. Most of them are in a study group and walking each other between classes.

Kel is still the first openly-a-lady knight, but the second is only a year behind her.

[underwater-i-will-go]

very selfish question here but i need answers. to those who regularly read my fics. tell me which ones you liked the most.

[stxar-pvnk]

Hi guys, I'm in an angsty feel and I REALLY am begging for this to reach the right people :)

I want fics where:

1. Dean finds the voicemail "he" left

2. Maybe some suicidal!Sam/selfharm fics? Preferably the early seasons

3. Any angst Sam fics tbh I'm just in an angsty Sam feels

[chunniwritesalot]

the ‘haas’bunds - km20 and nh27

what a god awful piece of writing this is!! i had to rush it because im going on vacation and want to finish my requests beforehand! i've never wrote this type of trope before so its not my best! i might rewrite this when i get back and post it again. this was a request! cw: fem reader, nico and kevin are both love interests, horrid writing, pictures not mine but i made the banner

wc: 200

‘wag’ is a funny abbreviation. is it pronounced WAG or w-a-g? well, it’s hard to tell.

but you were a wag, technically you were nico's wife, but really, you were haas's wife. how could you be a team's wife? easy, have kevin magnussen on the team.

"nic!" you exclaimed, running into your husband's arms, he had scored points, finally. but obviously, as soon as you congratulated nico, you had to congratulate... kevin, or as everyone calls him, your boyfriend. "good job kev" you cheered, detaching yourself from nico and flinging yourself onto kmag instead, "proud of both of you" "but you're prouder of me, right?" nico teased towering over his teammate and wife. kevin scoffed, "obviously not, mate." you sighed, pushing yourself off of kevin with an amused smile, "okay, you two... kiss it out" the two of them cringed disgust but held the same amused expression. they both shrugged and embraced one another, grinning stupidly. "aw i love seeing two gay men winning!" you exclaimed, clicking a photo. kevin and nico let go of each other and nodded, "thanks girl!" kevin said, "maybe one day you'll find true love as well" you rolled your eyes, "one can dream..."

[jamiesfootball]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

From today's sprint, have this bit from Jamie Murders Zava

He never realised how little he knew about the prison system until he had a body to hide.

With his web browser set to incognito, he skimmed through Wikipedia like a man possessed.

This was what Gail did, wasn't it? With her strange podcasts that gave Ted 'the heebie-jeebies?' She could rattle off the ten most fucked up facts he'd ever heard in a row before they'd even gotten to his traps -- so surely, if she could look it up, then Jamie could do it too, and it wouldn't be suspicious or anything and the police wouldn't come knocking on his door because he was using incognito mode and that meant the government couldn't spy on you.

Right?

He considered typing 'when can the government spy on you?' in the search bar. Then he remembered Moe saying something about how MI-6 used prison labour to spy on people through the webcams, shrieked, and slammed the lid of his laptop closed so fast his Mary Berry Tea spilled over the table.

Jamie stared down at the pooled liquid in horror. That was a specialty blend; Simon made him that blend.

Spread across his kitchen table and seeping onto the floor, it looked like blood.

Would Simon even be allowed to bring him prison in tea?

The blood seeped into his socks.

He was pretty sure that was a no.

[icy-book]

I miss writing things

[mmuffncakes]

For the request thing, can you draw Nick FINALLY meeting Keith? (at least how you think Keith looks like in your style)

Nick was not one to want to meet Keith. After all those stories from Ellis and how many times he shut him up, how many times the others shut him up about it, he wasn’t exactly excited about this get together. Nick wasn’t a good man. He knew he was about to see one of the most scarred men in the world. Burns? Skydiving accidents? Wedding explosions? Rabid racoon attacks? He wasn’t positive on how true any of them were and, honestly, he wondered if Ellis had just been talking to talk—making shit up as he went.

But this was important to Ellis. So, Nick had to go through with it.

“Aw man! Yer gonna love ‘im!” Ellis seemed too excited. Though he was always like this, Nick shouldn’t be all that surprised. “And he’s gonna love you too! This is gone be great!”

They had walked their way to some random neighborhood that Nick didn’t recognize but Ellis clearly did. The whole time pointing out little cracks in the road, or specific dents in fences that he knew was from Keith, or reciting some of his stories that Nick was sure was different the second time around hearing it. And finally, they walked up to a house. More like a shack if you asked Nick. And he wasn’t the one to hide it on his face. “This is the place!” Ellis beamed as he spoke, rushing up to the door that was attached to the wall with… dear lord, was the door a truck door? Maybe Ellis’s stories weren’t all that off from reality. But he bit the inside of his cheek as he watched his husband get into a… some fucking weird stance, his “crab” stance as Rochelle had called it, and banged on the door with a little beat. Like, an actual beat. Drummer shit. And then he honked with his voice.

…sometimes he wondered why he married this strange, strange little southern man.

Ellis looked back at him with another grin that Nick attempted to match. He knew that it was strained and unwilling. This is important to Ellis, he had to remind himself. No sass, no rage, no bitterness or coldness, just be… civil. He could be civil. He was great at being civil. He could even be kind if he wanted to, watch this: From Ellis’s stories, he could tell that Keith was a genuinely nice g—he nearly vomited in his mouth a little. No. He couldn’t be kind if he wanted to. At least not this.

There came a response to Ellis’s call from inside the house as Ellis turned back and started to vibrate with excitement. The truck door window rolled down and up popped…

Huh.

Nick expected Keith to be… a destroyed human walking. From the amount of injuries he sustained from all of the stories that Ellis exclaimed. Sure there was some clear scarring, but not to the amount that Nick had placed in his mind. He looked… normal. Just another southern hick.

“Well if ain’t my bestest buddy in the whole fuckin’ she-bangin’ world. The hell you doin’ out there and not in Keith’s castle? Get in here!”

…who sounded almost exactly like Ellis.

This was going to be a long evening…