#happy 9 years to this fic

[adamprrishcycle]

9 years ago today I made my first post on this blog, a little fic about a dreamer visiting a magician in a tiny apartment over a catholic church…and here we are all these years later and I’m still writing that same story over and over again. End in sight? nope. Let’s get to a decade

[pansysgothgf]

[ladyeyrewrites]

Feeling Hurled Like Hand Grenades

Read from Chapter One

Rated M

4863 words

TW: deadnaming and misgendering, but it is by a character who doesn't know the other character is trans.

Chapter Sixteen: The Night the World Didn't End

Gina woke to an empty house, which should have felt like a reprieve, a return to normalcy after how hectic the last few days had been.

But the silence gnawed like a dog at her arthritic bones. She found no comfort in it, only a reminder of the fact that she was perpetually alone, the one who stayed behind and manned the fort while people so much braver and busier than herself wove their ways in and out of her life at their own whims.

And that was her pre-caffeinated brain deciding to be morose, so Gina forced herself out of bed, called Tabitha to tell her she was taking the morning off to run errands and then made herself presentable. Her fingers ached as she slid her ring splints on. It was probably the cake Evan had made her for the coming out party – too much sugar and gluten always left her feeling inflamed. But it had been a lovely devil’s food cake.

She made herself a coffee to go and then headed to the address of the twenty-four-hour diner where Naomi worked as a dishwasher. Perhaps she should have called ahead to make sure the owner was there, but she could always come by again later and she could get herself breakfast while she was at it.

Ruthie’s was a hole in the wall behind a laundromat a block down from the hospital. Gina had been once or twice before, but she tended to prefer cafes to diners, so it was really only when she was in the mood for hashbrowns that she went – which wasn’t often given that potatoes made her knuckles swell even more than the rheumatoid already did. She’d have to skip the hashbrowns today, but she seemed to remember they had sweet potato fries. Gina’s stomach growled as she pushed open the door and was hit with a waft of delicious breakfast smells: strong coffee, fried potato, sweet syrup, fresh-made biscuits and gravy.

But breakfast was her secondary objective. First, to see that Naomi got paid.

“Just you today, hun?” She was greeted by a tall person who looked to be in their fifties with silvery stubble sprinkling their jawline, died purple hair piled into a bun on the top of their head and stuck through with a cheap pen, and a full face of glam make-up. They wore a classic 1950’s waitress uniform in red gingham and a name badge that said “Ruthie (she/her).”

So, this was Naomi’s boss.

“I’m actually here to see you,” said Gina. She found herself somewhat awestruck by how gloriously herself Ruthie was. She pushed down a stab of jealousy. It wouldn’t be productive comparing herself to Ruthie. Gina had always been quiet in her self-expression and not necessarily out of an effort to hide her identity. She’d just never felt the need to advertise it the way some people in the community did, the way Siobhan had to such mesmerising effect. It didn’t mean she couldn’t admire those who were brave enough to force the world to confront their existence rather than sweep them under the rug and into the shadows of the closet. Or perhaps it wasn’t bravery but acceptance of the fact that they would never fit the mould society placed them in and so they’d taken a hammer to it. She wasn’t sure what Ruthie’s story was, but she found herself wanting to know every detail.

Read more on Ao3 or below the cut

“Oh?” Ruthie tucked away the menu she’d grabbed from the stack when Gina walked in the door. She scanned Gina, taking in her neat skirt and blazer set, her neat chignon and subtle day make-up. “You’re Naomi’s aunt. The one that works for the paper?”

Gina wasn’t sure how Ruthie was able to gather that from a single glance, but she was nevertheless impressed. “The one that runs the paper, darling,” she countered with a playfully arched brow. At least she hoped it came across as playful; Siobhan always said she seemed angry when she was trying to be glib. “Though I haven’t been doing as much of that as I should recently,” Gina admitted with a stab of guilt for leaving Tabitha to deal with the morning’s fires after all she’d done for Naomi over the weekend.

“Sounds like you’ve got a bit of a story,” said Ruthie with a soft smile. “Maybe it has something to do with Naomi sending me a text saying she can’t come into work.” She motioned for Gina to follow her through the crowded diner towards a reserved table at the back. She slid into the booth.

“It’s been something of a week.” Gina set her purse down and sat opposite Ruthie with a tired sigh. Before she could launch into a further explanation, Ruthie motioned one of the other waitstaff over and insisted Gina order herself breakfast on the house, so Gina ordered two fried eggs with the sweet potato fries and glass of fresh squeezed orange juice.

“So you were saying you’ve had a week,” Ruthie prompted once the teenaged server had taken Gina’s order.

Gina nodded with a deep sigh. “First my nephew crashes a helicopter in the middle of a forest fire only to have to hike out of the woods on a broken leg, then an LA cop finally locates the grave of my long-dead lover and my soon-to-be nephew-in-law helps me say a final good bye and throw a coming out party. And after that my niece shows up on my doorstep beaten half-to-death because her father found her estrogen.” Gina took a deep breath. Maybe Michael and Evan weren’t the only ramblers in the family. “I understand you’re to thank for that.” Oh, she hadn’t meant for that to sound hostile, but she was pretty sure it did.

It must have done because Ruthie bristled and sat up straighter. “Look, if you’re here to make me feel guilty—”

Gina jumped in, hoping to explain herself before she ruined Ruthie’s opinion of her from the start. “On the contrary, I’m here to thank you.” Before she could stop herself, she reached across the table and took one of Ruthie’s hands in hers.

Ruthie’s eyes widened in shock.

“You’ve been a support for Naomi that I didn’t even know she needed,” said Gina. “You helped her get the treatment she feels is best for her. I’d never blame you for that.” She sighed. “Perhaps this is selfish of me, but I wish she’d felt safe enough to come to me with this.”

“But you said her father found the estrogen and beat her,” said Ruthie. “I got that for her. I wouldn’t blame you for blaming me.”

Gina shook her head. “My brother’s never needed much of an excuse to be a monster. I’m pretty sure he crawled out of my poor mother’s womb that way.”

Ruthie relaxed. “Why are you here and not Naomi? Is she okay?”

Gina shook her head. “She’s not, but she will be. I’m here because Naomi can’t be,” said Gina and quickly added. “She’s safe, but she won’t be able to come back to work. We thought it was best to get her some place her father wouldn’t think to look for her.”

Ruthie’s shoulders sagged with relief and her hand under Gina’s relaxed. Gina should probably let her hand go, but she found she didn’t want to.

“Does she have money? Can she access her account?” Ruthie asked. “I haven’t processed the most recent pay period yet. Usually, her paycheck is direct deposited, but I could give you a check to give to her. Or cash.”

“Not your first rodeo, it seems,” said Gina.

Ruthie shrugged. “My dad never tried to kill me,” said Ruthie. “But he did everything he could to make me wish that I was dead, including control my money. And that was only when he thought I was gay. I didn’t come out as trans until after he died. I have no doubt he’s turning over in his grave.”

“I’m sorry to hear that was your experience,” said Gina. “And to answer your question, we started draining her account the night she came to me,” said Gina. “If you can give me cash to give to her, that would probably be best until she can open a new bank account in her own name.”

“I can do that,” said Ruthie. “Tell her I’ll also be a reference for her whenever she needs one.”

“You’re not going to ask where she is?” Gina asked.

Ruthie shook her head, the pen holding her bun up jostling enough that Gina thought it might slip out entirely, but it held. “As much as I’d love to check in on the kid, it’s enough to know she’s safe and she’s got people looking out for her.”

Gina’s heart swelled with inexplicable fondness for this woman she’d met only minutes before “You really care about her,” said Gina, who was only just getting used to the feeling of people related to her giving a damn about her future let alone people who shared nary a drop of blood. But once upon a time, she had been used to that, hadn’t she? Those few shining years in San Fransisco with all Siobhan’s friends who’d taken her in as their own.

“We’ve got to stick together, right,” said Ruthie. “All us queers and weirdos.”

How had Gina forgotten the importance of community? The question plagued her as food was placed in front of her and she had to let go of Ruthie’s hand so she could eat.

Or maybe it wasn’t that she’d forgotten its importance. Maybe she’d never really understood how important community was until she was all alone, without even a grave to mourn over.

1999

“It’ll be fun,” Siobhan tugged on Gina’s arm as they climbed out of the cab and walked down the sidewalk towards Siobhan’s friend’s apartment.

It was New Year’s Eve, and they were in the Castro District, possibly to celebrate the end of the world, and if the world didn’t end, they’d celebrate that instead. Not that Gina believed that the world was ending, but people loved any excuse for a party. Not Gina, though. It was going to be loud, and people were going to be even more drunk and reckless than they usually were on New Year’s Eve. And they weren’t her friends anyway; they were Siobhan’s.

But Siobhan had somehow talked her into getting dressed up and going out. Somehow convinced Gina that it would be anything besides her worst nightmare. And now here she was, in too high heels and a too short skirt and a hair do that was so tight her scalp tingled, standing on the sidewalk staring at an apartment building that was practically vibrating from all the noise emitting from the doors and windows.

But Siobhan had given up her wonderful, vibrant life in the city to move back home with Gina. She’d grown out her hair, covered her tattoos with high collars and long sleeves, taken out her piercings all so that they could blend in and seem the part of ordinary roommates who absolutely did not share a bed.

Part of Gina regretted not breaking things off with Siobhan when she’d moved back home. Sure, it would have broken her heart, but every day it broke her heart anyway to see Siobhan holding herself back, reigning herself in. Gina felt like she’d taken this majestic, wild creature and domesticated her into something dull and drab – a wild mustang turned mule. Not that Siobhan ever complained. Anytime Gina would ask her if she wanted to move back to San Fransisco, Siobhan would shake her head, give Gina a kiss and say, “Oh, get over yourself. You haven’t ruined my life. Sooner or later, I would’ve wanted to settle down anyway. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Siobhan deserved a night out. A night where she didn’t have to hide, so for all Gina grumbled and complained and protested that she’d rather stay home and watch the ball drop on TV like an old married couple, she hadn’t put up too much of a fight when Siobhan had thrust a slip dress and chunky heeled strappy sandals into her hands and ordered her to make herself pretty.

And now here they were: partying.

At least it was a party in the Castro District filled with gays and lesbians and cross dressers of all types and distinctions, so they could dance pressed up against one another, bodies writhing together, the silky fabric of Gina’s dress fluid against Siobhan’s velvet trousers, heat and sweat and breath mingling.

They drank, cheap stuff that burned its way down Gina’s throat and seared its softening effects into her brain. The noise seemed to dull, she relaxed, draped herself against Siobhan.

They danced.

They drank.

Someone passed a joint around.

Gina sat in Siobhan’s lap, eyes closed, mind drifting while Siobhan held a shouted conversation over the music with one of her good friends – an ex, Gina knew, though they’d never been serious. Gina had been surprised that the thing she was most jealous of when Siobhan had first introduced her to this ex-turned-friend was not their relationship but the fact that Siobhan had any exes at all. Had experience. Gina had always been so focused on blending in and being good and denying herself any pleasure that she hadn’t had anyone, not until that night at Club Q when her entire world had become a tattooed redhead. Not that she regretted her course, but maybe, in another life, it would have been nice to have been more prepared for Siobhan.

“The countdown’s about to start,” Siobhan whispered in Gina’s ear, lips brushing against her earlobe, sending shivers down Gina’s spine.

A moan escaped her lips.

Siobhan chuckled.

Gina twisted in her lap and gazed up into that lovely, familiar face.

Who cared if the world ended if she could stare into those green eyes and map Siobhan’s freckles and taste the tequila and smoke on her lips.

They counted down to midnight.

The world didn’t end.

The new millennium began on Siobhan’s lips, cheered on by a room full of people the world would rather pretend did not exist.

2025

For the first time in well over a decade, Gina wondered what had happened to all those people who’d been there the night the world didn’t end. Siobhan’s friends, her friends.

God, why had she let herself lose touch with them? Those wonderful, joyful people.

Because she’d been afraid that they’d remind her of Siobhan, but maybe they would have helped her put Siobhan’s memory to rest sooner.

Who could say?

It was too late now.

Gina sighed, blinking the past away as she nibbled a sweet potato fry. It was as excellent as she remembered, seasoned with sea salt and rosemary and just the correct balance of crunchiness to chewiness.

“You went somewhere there,” said Ruthie, perfectly drawn brows creasing with seemingly genuine concern.

“The past,” said Gina. She dipped another fry in Ketchup.

“A dangerous place,” said Ruthie in a tone that spoke to treacherous memories of her own. “You can get trapped there.”

Gina laughed. “Oh, I know. I’ve been caught in that trap for a very long time. I’ve been trying to break free. I even made a profile on a dating app.” She shook her head. “Well, my nephew’s fiancé helped me set up a profile on a dating app. He’s something of a reformed playboy.”

“How modern.” Ruthie smiled and her teeth were coffee stained, but perfectly straight, lips framed with lines cut deep by laughter.

Gina shrugged. “It makes me feel old, if I’m honest. And scared. I used to be content with the idea of dying alone. I’d resigned myself to it, but now that I’m trying to explore the possibility of finding someone again, the prospect of never meeting anyone is terrifying.” And this was not the conversation Gina had intended to have with her niece’s bosss, but there was something about Ruthie and how she was so authentically herself, that made Gina want to try to be honest.

“How’d you meet your last partner?” Ruthie asked. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I don’t mind,” said Gina, the memory of that night swirling to the forefront of her mind. “We met dancing at Club Q.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know if people go dancing anymore.”

Ruthie laughed and it was a charming laugh. And it had been a very long time since Gina had been charmed. She had no idea what to do, so she ate the rest of her breakfast as quickly as good table manners would allow and drank her orange juice if too few gulps. “Well, I’d better let you get on with your day.” She slid out of the vinyl upholstered booth and grabbed her purse reaching in for the little monogramed card holder Tabitha had gotten her when she’d been promoted to editor. “Here’s my number for when Naomi’s pay is ready.” She offered her card.

Ruthie took it with a smile, the tips fingers brushing against Gina’s as that tiny paper rectangle changed hands. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Naomi’s aunt,” said Ruthie.

Gina’s eyes widened in shock at her own lack of manners. “Oh God, I never actually told you my name, did I?”

“We seem to have skipped that part, Gina,” said Ruthie, reading off the business card before tucking it into her apron pocket. “Give Naomi my best.”

“I will,” said Gina, cheeks still hot with embarrassment as she made her way out of the diner and to her car.

She wasn’t sure she’d be able to focus on anything remotely resembling work once she got to the office and that instinct proved correct. Her mind kept slipping away from the columns she was reading for approval to the low, silk of Ruthie’s voice, the pen poked through her bun, the subtle brush of stubble on her jaw, the laugh lines. The way she’d listened like every word Gina had to say was important.

What a wonder.

#

After work, she had a video call with Thomas, Evan, Naomi, and Athena Grant who was there to advise them on how best to protect Naomi moving forward. Naomi’s bruises were still in that nasty purple phase, yet to yellow, but the swelling around her eyes and nose had gone down significantly.

Athena advised travelling outside of LA to finish emptying Naomi’s account so that the transactions couldn’t be used to track her. She also told Naomi to get a new phone as soon as possible and turn off location tracking on her current one.

“I’ll talk to one of your brothers about getting your car to LA for you,” Gina told Naomi as they were wrapping the discussion up. As she spoke, her phone pinged with a text message. It was Simone. Gina frowned. It wasn’t like Simone to text her. They barely spoke outside of forced family functions, though Gina was fond of the girl.

“What’s wrong?” Naomi asked

“Your sister’s coming to my house,” said Gina. She met Naomi’s gaze as best she could through the screen. “I won’t tell her where you are, but is there anything else you don’t want me to say?”

Naomi hesitated before nodding. “I don’t want her to know I’m trans,” she said. “I don’t know if she’ll understand, and I want to be able to talk to her about it myself.”

Gina nodded. “I understand.” She heard a car pull up in the driveway and a door slam. “She’s here. I’d better hang up.” They said their hasty goodbyes as Gina’s doorbell rang.

Gina sighed and turned her tablet screen-side-down on the table before answering the door. Simone stood on her doorstep in a crop top and low-cut jeans that wouldn’t have looked out of place twenty years ago when Gina and Siobhan had danced together at the end of the world. She even had butterfly clips in her hair.

“Did your mother give you a ride?” Gina asked. Whoever had dropped Simone off hadn’t lingered long enough to see her through the front door which was a black mark against them in Gina’s book.

“Patrick gave me a ride on his way to band practice,” said Simone. “Mom and Dad don’t know I’m here.”

Gina sighed and stepped out of the doorway, beckoning her teenaged niece inside.

Simone entered cautiously, scanning the front rooms. “Is Noah in the guest room?” she asked.

Gina shook her head. She’d been astonished at how easy it had been to slip into using Naomi and she/her pronouns, as though the other name and pronouns had been an ill-fitting disguise eager to be shed. Now, she’d have to be careful not to give the truth away. “No,” she said.

“Where is he then?” Simone asked.

“Safe,” said Gina. “Somewhere your father won’t think to look.”

“But where?” Simone asked.

Gina shook her head. “I don’t know exactly.” And that was true enough, because despite all their months of contact, Gina had yet to visit Thomas and Evan at their house and she still did not have their address. An oversight, but for the moment it gave her plausible deniability.

“But he came here,” said Simone. “I know he did because Dad said you and Tony came over and got his stuff. So, he was here.” Wheels were turning in that brain of hers as her eyes flicked through the empty rooms. “And Buck and Tommy aren’t here anymore.”

“Evan had to get back to work,” said Gina. “And Thomas wanted to rest at home.” Probably not untrue statements.

Simone chewed her lip before huffing a sigh. “Why would Noah leave without saying goodbye?”

Gina didn’t usually hold with using shock and awe tactics against teenagers, but Simone seemed so affronted by the idea that her older sibling hadn’t said goodbye, that Gina decided that perhaps some stark reality was necessary. She led Simone to the table and urged her to sit down. Then Gina unlocked her tablet and pulled up a shared album Tabitha had labelled “For Evidence.”

Simone flinched when she saw the first picture.

“Broken nose,” said Gina, flicking through the images. “Black eyes. A laceration to the scalp. Broken ribs. Your father did all that. He tried to do more.”

Simone’s eyes started to well with tears. She shivered, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Look,” Gina snapped. “Look at what your father is capable of.” She let her tone gentle as Simone opened her eyes. “I know your father is kind to you, protective of you, but this is what he is. What he’s always been.”

Simone’s lip quivered and she looked up at Gina with tearful eyes. “Did Noah do something to piss Dad off?”

Gina frowned and put the tablet down. “No one deserves what your father did for any reason.”

Simone shrank under what Gina knew her nephews called her “Auntie voice.”

“No parent should ever raise a hand against their child, no matter the reason,” said Gina. “And the reason? I’m sure your father must have said something to you about that. Jonathan was never good at keeping his damned mouth shut.”

Simone was shaking now, her reaction to seeing second-hand what had been done to Naomi stronger than Naomi’s own reaction. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Mom and Dad had a h-h-huge fight,” she stuttered. “They were yelling and throwing things so I went to P-Patrick’s.”

Gina let herself relent a bit. The girl was only fourteen after all and scared and alone in a house that wasn’t safe. Gina put an arm around Simon’s shoulder, only able to do so because she was standing and Simone was sitting. “You can always come to me if you need a place to get away from it all. Your brother, Thomas, used to stay with me all the time when your father was at his worst. He’d bring Michael and Anthony along with him when their mother was out of the house.”

Simone stilled, brow wrinkling in thought. “Did Noah leave home for the same reasons Tommy did?” she asked.

Gina didn’t know exactly what it was Simone thought she knew about Thomas’s reasons for leaving home and never coming back, but Simone knew that Thomas was gay, so perhaps she was getting close to connecting some dots. “Perhaps,” Gina said. “Thomas and I have never spoken of his underlying reasons for joining the army, but it was to get away from your father, ultimately.” She sighed. “Jonathan was always particularly cruel to him.”

“Just like with Noah,” said Simone, voice little more than a tear-coarse whisper.

Gina nodded. “There are certain characteristics you father views as necessary for a man to be a man,” she said. “All nonsense if you ask me, which he never has. If Jonathan finds anything outside of those narrow parameters, he tries to beat that child into the shape of what he deems a man to be. It’s what he’s always done.”

Simone’s frowned furrowed deeper into her brow. “Is Dad nice to me because I’m not a boy?” she asked.

“Perhaps,” said Gina. Though she wondered how her brother would have treated Simone if she’d been a tomboy or queer or not a girl at all. Would he have embraced having a boyish girl as a daughter or was the only acceptable form of femineity the type Simone exemplified?

“Is it really safer for Noah if I don’t know where he is?” Simone asked.

Gina sighed. “I can’t say for certain, but I think that anything that prevents your father from finding that child is best.” She quickly added. “I don’t think you would tell your father on purpose, but what if he overheard you, or what if you told your mother and she told him, and your father tried to finish what he started? Would you be able to live with that?”

Simone shook her head. She didn’t even argue that her mother wouldn’t tell her father. It seemed the girl was enough of a realist to know that Veronica would always side with Jonathan, eventually, if only to make things easier for herself.

Simone wiped her face with the heels of her hands, sniffling. “I’m just really worried.”

“I know,” said Gina. “So am I.” She leaned over and pulled Simone against her bosom, rocking her until the girls breathing had evened out, no longer hiccoughing with sobs. She fetched some tissues and a glass of water. “Now. Do you want to stay for dinner? I think there’s left-over cake that Evan baked while he was here.” It had been frosted in the colours of the lesbian flag but there was so little of it left that Gina doubted anyone would be able to discern the cake’s original intent.

Simone hesitated. “Dad doesn’t like it when I eat sweets,” she said. “He says I can’t afford to put on any more weight.”

Sorrow and rage went to war in Gina’s heart, hearing that. She put a hand on each of her niece’s shoulders. “Simone, does your father criticise your weight?”

Simone shrugged. “Only sometimes, if I cheat on my diet.”

Gina blinked, staring at the thin, somewhat muscular girl sitting in front of her. “There’s no need for you to be on a diet. Not when you play sports as often as you do.” She shook her head. “Simone, I need you to listen to me: your body is yours and only yours and no one else gets to have an opinion about what it should look like. And I mean no one. Not your father or your mother or even me. Do you understand me?”

“I guess,” said Simone. And maybe that was a good enough start, but Gina resolved to remind Simone every time they saw each other, and she meant for that to be at a far more frequent rate than before. “Now, do you want a slice of the delicious devil’s food cake that Evan made from scratch.”

Simone nodded.

“That’s my girl,” said Gina and she cut them both a slice from the remains of her coming out cake.

#

She drove Simone home only after confirming that Veronica would be home that night. Part of her wanted to give Veronica a piece of her mind, but she knew that the only thing that would accomplish was isolating Veronica further and that wasn’t a door Gina was willing to shut.

Gina sat in her brother’s driveway and watched as Simone unlocked the door and let herself in, turning back to give Gina a little wave. Gina waved back even though she didn’t think Simone would be able to see.

Right before she went to shift the car into drive, her phone buzzed. Gina didn’t think it would hurt to check who it was before she started driving. It turned out to be a text from an unknown number: It’s Ruthie, from the diner. This might be out of line, but I know a place if you’re interested in going dancing.

[rainofcolours]

it was a day like any other (16535 words)

[ One-shot | Joukai/Puppyshipping | 克也 '25 birthday fic ]

Summary: A cup of coffee, a white shirt, a barista, and a disgruntled CEO crossed paths, literally. And how that confluence of chance precipitated a day unlike any other. Note: Happy birthday to the bestest boy who deserves nothing but happiness! (Even though I keep writing him otherwise...) Also this may have been totes created from a terrible pun of kissaten ha ha ha I'm hilarious

Click below for a few preview paragraphs!

It was a day like any other.

Seto brisk walking down the length of the Central Business District, wearing his signature accessory of what might as well be a patented scowl, billowing trench coat a physical shield, never slowing – why would he need to accede to these plebeians? – passers-by, who knew better, parting like waves bowing back into the ocean at his urgency (or perhaps it was fury, even he couldn’t really tell).

It was a day like any other.

Katsuya ambling down the length of the Central Business District, a cuppa clutched in his cold hands – his daily treat he deemed more necessary than indulgent after a full shift at some pretentious bistro that was born out of a bored high-society wife’s capricious whims – steps light, relaxing into the hours that were finally his.

Turned out the universe had other ideas. (Universe here meaning Katsuya’s preoccupation with his drink and Seto’s obstinate refusal to step aside for anyone.)

“Oh, fuck—“

A clack of shoulders; a clop of stumbling heels; a clatter of a cup; a single click of the tongue.

A single very displeased click of Seto’s tongue.

(Read the rest of the fic here!)

[babybucks]

wish me one more day to stay

buck/eddie | teen | 1k words

buck-centric + death as a narrator + processing buck's suicidal ideation

Death marks Buck as soon as he takes his first breath. She places a kiss on his head, close to his left eye—a reminder that he is tied to her as much as she is to him. He was made to be a sacrifice. A life for a life. A son for a son. It doesn’t work that way. Or: How Buck learns to live, as told by Death.

read on ao3

[datheetjoella]

You Make Everything Okay

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: M Summary: Unlike most people, Haruka wasn’t very eager to meet his soulmate. Half of the reason was his inexplicable infatuation with a stranger he saw on the train every morning, the other half was the words that were imprinted on his skin; the first words his soulmate would say to him. They were… ominous.

When Haruka’s absent-mindedness got him into trouble, he had to deal with the unforeseen - but not at all unpleasant - consequences. Or, how getting involved in a car accident became the best thing that ever happened to Haruka.

Word count: 5,942 (total: 176,694) Chapter: 28/32 Chapter summary: The thoughts of Makoto moving out plague Haruka until he can’t hold them in any longer and they say goodbye to the Tachibana family.

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

Chapter 28: One Goodbye Too Many

By the time Makoto came back from the vending machine, Haruka was able to regain most of his composure.

He didn’t want the last days of such an amazing trip to be ruined, therefore he’d convinced himself it wouldn’t be that bad. Makoto would be a single train stop away and they could meet up whenever they wanted. Before the accident, Haruka lived on his own for over a year so he shouldn’t have a hard time adjusting to Makoto being gone. After such a busy summer, he might’ve been relieved to have the house to himself, to be truly alone for the first time in months. He always treasured his alone time, so this would be a nice breather - but deep down, he knew he was lying to himself.

Read more on AO3!

[the-amber-raven]

Snippet Sunday

It's just past midnight here, so it is technically Sunday... and when I wake up it will be all about NYE and I have no faith that I'll have time to post so doing it before bed! It's been a hell of a crazy and kind of awful few weeks quite frankly, but I'm proud of myself for completing the first chapter of the 6b fic before the end of year.

I haven't done one in a while, so have a slightly longer snippet where Bobby gets some initial inklings that Buck is perhaps more involved in the Diaz family than he realised:

--

“Are you sure you don’t want to make yourself one, Buckaroo? There really is a perfectly good room for you to stay in.” 

“Bobby said he’d make blueberry pancakes for breakfast,” Harry added enthusiastically. “And I’m working on getting him to do his mac and cheese for dinner!” 

“That does sound amazing, but I need to pick Christopher up from his party tonight so I definitely can’t,” Buck said apologetically. He was genuinely regretful, because the idea of waking up to Bobby’s pancakes and then maybe helping him bake mac and cheese while Athena and Harry hovered near them as they caught up and unpacked Harry’s things was a pretty amazing fantasy that he would have enjoyed indulging in. 

“Christopher?” Bobby said sharply, startled and concerned. “Is everything alright with Eddie?” 

“Of course,” Buck replied, mystified as to what had made Bobby jump to that conclusion. “Eddie dropped him off, I just offered to do the pick-up."

"Eddie didn't feel comfortable driving at night...?" Bobby probed, mouth pressed together in worry. There was a brief period, right after his breakdown, where Eddie had avoided driving at night since he was anxious about potentially getting triggered by something so Buck supposed he could understand where Bobby's worry was coming from.

"No, nothing like that. It just didn't seem like there was much point in him going when I was planning to crash at Eddie's anyway."

Bobby didn't look any less concerned, so Buck expanded his explanation.

"I promised Chris that we could plan out our next zoo visit tomorrow. They’re offering koala photos at the moment plus there’s some new baby gibbons so we need to make some sacrifices and adjust our usual schedule.” 

Bobby opened his mouth, probably to ask for more detail because he now looked puzzled. 

However, Harry jumped in first, his eyes wide with wonder. “As in you can take a photo with a koala?”  

“You can take one holding a koala if you want.” Buck pulled out his phone, handing it over to Harry once he found the screenshot that he’d sent to Eddie which explained the experience and showed a sample photo. He angled it so that Bobby could also see the phone, wondering if maybe Bobby hadn’t been aware that the LA zoo had Australian native animals and that was why he was confused? 

--

Hope y'all have a Happy and Safe New Year's Eve! And may the muse be stronger than ever in 2024 ;)

[sherl-grey]

quick fic for the immortal rose girlies 🥰

[spinelesswrites]

i mean. i definitely could go for a second prequel series. don't get me wrong i wish all the actors have wonderful varied careers and i understand why stories end etc but. you know. morse still has to become inspector and chief inspector.... meet lewis.... etc... i'm just saying........ lots of things have been rebooted these days......... maybe let's just see where everyone is at in ten-fifteen years you know............................................

[badolmen]

I didn’t know reading fanfiction could feel like this <- has waited all week, working in mud and mosquitos and eyes blurry from staring at bark fragments, to read 7k words of the most tender and beautiful writing known to man

[crossbackpoke-check]

a game of approximation

luka dončić/miro heiskanen :: 2k :: part of There’s Only One You

It's a trick shot, really. An illusion to create space. That’s what falling in love with Miro feels like: a fadeaway, graceful exit, a swan dive backwards into nothing but a swoosh, the sound of Luka’s text sending and then him turning and running back the other way.

[amoryeonjun]

It's my 9 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

aww would u look at that 🥺🥺 almost to the 2 digits

[mrs-lockley]

jake being happy and celebrating his birthday is everything to me

Leap Year

Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader (mentions of Steven Grant x gn!reader and Marc Spector x gn!reader)

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Jake has never celebrated his birthday. He didn’t even have a birthday, until you urged him to pick a date. Of course, he picks the most chaotic date possible.

Content: Fluff, one use of a pet name (honey)

A/N: I was thinking about the fact that it’s a leap year, and this idea sort of just came to me. I don’t have much else to say about it. Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

“When’s your birthday?” you ask out of the blue one day over dinner.

Jake pauses, forkful of pasta halfway to his mouth. Carefully, he places the fork back on his plate and says, “Don’t have one.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Jake shrugs. “I know Marc’s is March ninth. I didn’t exactly check the calendar on the day I first showed up.”

“What about Steven?” Your food is now totally forgotten.

“Same as me, I guess,” Jake says. He looks into the reflection of his glass, likely listening to one of his alters.

You sit there for a few moments, deep in thought. Finally, you look up at Jake. “Well, then you’ll have to pick one.”

“What?”

“You and Steven should pick your own birthdays.”

Oh, boy. Jake knows that look in your eyes, knows from the way they’re sparkling that there’s no way you’re letting this go.

“Look, I dunno—” he tries.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” you encourage him.

Jake knows there’s no getting out of this. “Fine,” he relents, pretending to be more annoyed than he actually is. Really, he thinks your enthusiasm is adorable, and he’d do just about anything to make you happy.

You cheer. “Great! Do you want me to help you pick a date? I should have some astrology books around here somewhere—”

“Astrology?” Jake scoffs. “I don’t need astrology. I already know what date I want.”

“Oh? Which one?” You lean forward in anticipation.

“February twenty-ninth.” Jake sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“February twenty-ninth?” you repeat. “Why?”

Jake shrugs. “Why not?”

“I don’t know, I—” You sigh. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ll put it in my calendar,” you say with a smile. “Now, we just need to find a birthday for Steven.”

“He’s already blabbing on about it.” He rolls his eyes fondly. “I think he’ll take you up on the astrology book offer.”

“Perfect!” you say. He can see the moment you get that faraway look in your eye, no doubt already analyzing which sign would match Steven best.

Seasons change, time marches on, and Jake completely forgets about the birthday conversation. Sure, Steven had made a big fuss over choosing his own date for a while, but, once that was settled, there was no need to think about the matter anymore.

So, it comes as a shock when, on a random winter day, Steven has called out of work and insisted that Jake take the body. Jake tries to argue, to get Marc on his side, but it’s no use. His alters slip deeper into the headspace, leaving Jake alone for the time being.

He notices you’re already out of bed, and it’s at that moment he hears movement coming from the kitchen. He throws on a t-shirt and sweatpants and gets up to investigate. Sure enough, there you are, singing to yourself as you stand at the stove.

Jake has spent a lifetime creeping in the shadows, so he’s gotten very good at sneaking up on people. Silently, he moves across the kitchen and wraps his arms around you from behind. You startle before laughing and leaning into the touch.

“Good morning, Jake,” you say brightly.

“Morning, honey,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck. “What’re you doing?”

“Making pancakes.”

Jake perks up at that. “What’s the occasion?”

You laugh. “Don’t you know what today is?”

Jake thinks about it. “March first?” he tries.

“It’s a leap year, silly,” you correct him, “so it’s February twenty-ninth. Happy birthday!”

Oh, right, that.

“You didn’t have to do anything special,” Jake protests.

“Are you kidding? This is the first-ever birthday you’re celebrating. We’ve gotta make it special.”

Jake feels something warm blooming in his chest, a feeling that is occurring more and more often when he spends time with you.

You plate the now-finished pancakes—banana, his favorite—and lead him over to the kitchen table, which has already been set. You dish out the pancakes and pour two glasses of juice before joining Jake at the table.

“Is this why Steven and Marc were being weird this morning?” Jake asks as he cuts into his pancakes.

You chew thoughtfully. “Probably. I swore them to secrecy.”

Jake grunts. “Really, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Oh, Jake,” you say with a grin, “we’re just getting started.”

Jake hates drawing attention to himself. It’s the antithesis of his being; at least, it used to be, when he was still keeping himself hidden from his alters and working for Khonshu. Now, even though he can be more present, it still makes him uncomfortable to be in the spotlight. So, being the center of attention, the “birthday boy,”  isn’t really his style.

Of course, you know all this, and you plan the day around it. There will be no impromptu singing of “Happy Birthday” by waiters and random patrons in a restaurant—not on your watch. Instead, you spend a nice, quiet day together, walking around the city like a couple of tourists. It’s a mild day, not nearly as cold as it could be, so you even get to spend some time in the park, one of Jake’s favorite spots to relax.

It’s rare for Jake to get to spend a whole day with you like this. Sure, he and his alters have figured out a pretty fair schedule, but between work and life, it doesn’t always work out. Some days, he only catches glimpses of you in the morning, and come evening you’re so tired that he practically has to carry you to bed.

On the way back to your home, you make a quick stop at a little building with a pink awning. “Lily’s Bakery,” the sign reads in looping cursive. You pop in quickly and return moments later with a matching pink box.

“What’s that?” Jake asks.

“You’ll see,” you say with a glint in your eye.

After you’ve cooked and eaten Jake’s favorite dinner, you bring out the pink box again. You tell Jake to close his eyes, and, with a little eye roll, he complies. There’s some rustling, the sound of a box opening, and the click of a lighter before you say, “Okay, open!”

Jake uncovers his eyes, and he’s shocked by the gasp that leaves him. In front of him is a chocolate chip cookie cake that you’ve added candles to. Blue letters spell out, “Happy Birthday Jake,” and there’s even a little taxi cab drawn with frosting.

“I hope this is okay,” you say quickly. “I know you’re not the biggest fan of cake…”

“Are you kidding? This is perfect,” Jake assures you, blinking back the tears in his eyes.

When you sing “Happy Birthday” to him in the comfort of your home, Marc and Steven join in from the headspace.

“Okay, blow out the candles and make a wish!” you say.

Jake doesn’t need any wishes. He already has everything he could ever want right in front of him.

“What about next year?” Jake asks as the two of you lay in bed that night.

“What do you mean?” You roll onto your side to face him.

“My birthday next year. Do we skip it?’

“Of course not,” you say. “We’ll just celebrate the day before or after.”

Jake hums.

“Is that okay?” you ask.

If you had asked Jake that a year ago, the answer would have been a flat-out “no.” He hated drawing attention to himself, hated being fussed over. He felt like he didn’t deserve it.

What a difference a year makes, though. Instead, he smiles at you and says, “That sounds nice.”

“Happy birthday, Jake,” you whisper, leaning over to kiss him softly before returning your head to the pillow. “I love you.”

By the time he murmurs back, “I love you, too,” you’re already asleep.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! Also, I have some ideas for follow-ups with Steven picking his birthday, plus celebrating Marc’s birthday, so let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in! :)

[yujateaandpi]

Gravity Falls Thirty More Years AU and Art Masterlist

Here's all the pages of the comic in order plus some of the other GF stuff I've made. I'll keep updating this list to make it easy on y'all.

Edit: I have a new tagging system! All asks will be tagged #thirtymoreyearsau without spaces, and all comics and fic updates will be tagged #thirty more years au with spaces. If you want the whole story together, then you can filter using this tag on my account! Filtered link here.

If you like the comic and would like to support it, here’s my tip jar! Donations also appreciated for this family's fundraiser!

Thirty More Years AU Comic:

Page 1

Pages 2 and 3

Page 4

Page 5

Page 6

Page 7

Pages 8 and 9

Page 10

Pages 11 and 12

Pages 13 and 14

Prequel Multiverse Mini Comic

Epistolary Prequel Companion/ Dipper's Diary Entries:

"Dear Mabel, I Miss You"

Answers to Common Questions:

What is the Thirty Years AU?

A Gravity Falls fan story and comic about what would happen if Mabel and Ford both fall into a leftover multiverse rift at the end of summer. They experience a week of silly adventures but return to a world where 30 years have passed and Dipper + co have aged without them. Told as both a comic and a companion fic.

2. How old are the characters?

Answer

3. When does the story take place relative to the show?

Answer

4. Where's Bill?

Answer

5. Where else can I read the comic? Will you distribute it on a site?

Releasing it on my Instagram (but Tumblr gets the pages earlier cause y'all are special). As for releasing it on a site, answer here.

6. How many pages/ how long will the comic approximately be?

Subject to change, but here's my answer for now.

7. How often will you post/ when will you post again?

Here's my answer for now, but if there's delays between posts please don't spam me with questions on when I'll post again. The updates will come when they come and I'm trying to keep this flexible.

8. Is this Drifting Stars AU/ Other Similar AU?

Answer

9. Someone's reposting on TikTok/ Other social media! Are you okay with this?

No, and please report them if you can. Answer here.

11. Will you tag me/ make a tag list?

Answer

12. Why haven't you answered my question?

Answer

13. What art program/ brushes do you use?

Answer

Other Fanart

Twin Glare^2

Kitten Sweater

Pines Pines Pines

Happy Birthday Twins

Gravity Falls The Odyssey AU

Sona Shenanigans

Fiddleford to the rescue

mystery trio eizouken

twins in time mini comic

F-fiddlestan…🥺

Stan Pines Mini Character Analysis Essays

Apparently I do this a lot, so collecting them in one place:

Poll thots

Rough and tumble little Stanley

Stan Appreciation

that magic 8 ball man…

off topic Billford thots

off topic Fiddleford thots

off topic Fiddlestan thots

off topic Emma May thots

[ramonathinks]

matters of the heart — Nanami K.

summary: finding out your ex-boyfriend wrote a novel detailing your relationship isn’t how you expected this week to go and to make matters worse everyone on the internet now thinks your “character” is a total bitch. you decide to pay your ex a visit, but can you do that without succumbing to your natural urges? well, no!

tags: 18+(MDNI/blank blogs) slight porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), brief nipple sucking, daddy kink, creampie, i guess nanami is a bit toxic in this lol, nanami might also be a bit ooc in here

to the moaners: has this been sitting in the draft for about 3-4 months? yes! but happy birthday month, kento 😚. artwork by @/_3aem (twt); @ryomens-vixen (this was the fic I mentioned a while back) word count: 5.6k (yuck), I don't really like this

I’m going to kill him, that was the only thing on your mind once you closed out of the novel. Normally, your weekends were spent relaxing with a fruity bubble-gum colored cocktail but today was different. Shoko called your phone at exactly 9:26 am claiming it was time she divulged some news to you. At exactly 9: 28am, she sent you an online copy of a book titled, “Matters of the Heart” and told you it was nothing but a two or three hour read and then to call once you finished. 

The book had a slow start and it seemed pretty average, just any old love story. Lately, anything was getting published and it seemed that was the case here — wait, you paused your reading and sat up straight. No. Just no. Something just clicked for you which led you to completely start over from page one. 

The moment you finished, at exactly 1:01 pm, you grabbed a salmon colored low cut shirt and light washed jeans, slipped on your white shoes and hurried to get into your car. You didn’t need to call her phone because you were going to talk to her face to face; this situation warranted a real conversation. It was nothing but a 17 minute drive to Shoko’s house, so when you arrived at exactly 1:18 pm, her door was already open. “They’re bashing me, Shoko. Fucking bashing! How could he do this to me?” Were the first words that flew out of your mouth, holding your phone close to her face so that she could see the reviews. 

“Well, it’s not like anyone would know it’s you.” She yawned, handing you a cup of water – probably because of how crazy you looked – before she ushered you to a seat on the couch. A golden brown blanket was lazily thrown on the seat, which she hurried to move. You sat down and faced her with a look of what Shoko could only describe as pure sadness. She had seen you like this many times before, all because of one person. 

“You did.” You sniffled with an eye roll, you couldn’t help but feel uncertain. Reading this book only brought back more uncomfortable feelings towards the breakup and him. You thought that you were over him and the memories that the book produced made you question everything. One question remained which is: Why?

She giggled drily. “Hey, I read all his works. Pseudonym or not. He can’t hide from me. Plus, I know you both and everything that went on. I was there too, remember?” She mumbled the last part. “Maybe this was his way of coping?”

“It’s been years… and I heard he’s announced a sequel. Shoko, a SEQUEL! It’ll be released later this year.” You spoke in a shaking watery voice while she rubbed your back in an attempt of comfort. Your mind could only think of what the reactions would be to your character in the sequel… insecurities that you never knew were there flooded your mind.

“There was enough material for a sequel? I thought he covered everything…” Shoko rubbed her chin and looked deep in thought. You just stared at her, she couldn’t be serious. “Sorry, ignore me.” She shook her head ignoring your stare.

“Do I even confront him over this? A-and how would that make me look, like I still check on him right? I’ll look crazy and bitter… which apparently I am. Oh and I’m bitchy and a ‘total cunt’ as they’re putting online.” He didn’t know just how much you changed, he missed your growth. Rubbing your eyes, you ask:“Why did you tell me about this? What made you take so long… I just don’t understand.”

“Well, at first… I didn’t think you’d care.” Moving a strand of her nut-brown hair out of her face, she continued. “Then about a month ago, I decided it was right to tell you, just in case someone else pieced it together.”

“Gojo read it then, huh?” You mentally cringed at the thought. It was the only person you could think of who’d be so crude about it. He knew how damaging the breakup was for you but not as bad as Shoko knows. Now, you’re just grateful that she told you before he did.

“Yep, so I figured that I had to tell you before he did.” She clicked her tongue. “But let’s just calm down before you make any rash decisions on how to handle this.” 

“He wrote a fucking duality series about me, our relationship, our sex life and you want me to calm down? Are you listening to yourself? This is a serious matter. I am being called a bitch, a slut and more on Goodreads and multiple websites, reviews, etc. and he didn’t even have the audacity to give me a heads up. You had to call me.” You let out an unladylike snort.“Why couldn’t he stick to his mystery novels? Wasn’t he doing good at those?”

“Writer's block.” Shoko said in a singsong-like voice. “He hadn’t written a mystery book since you two broke up and then… he alerted his supporters he wanted to switch things up and then… that was that. Ladies loved it, a big hit. By the way, if you two were really fucking like that I need to se—”

“Shoko, now is not the time!” Your face felt hot all over, your mind racing. “I just can’t believe this.” You wrapped your arms around your body and squeezed, giving yourself one big squeeze. It was hard not to cry but you could feel it all in your throat. 

“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think his intentions were to make you feel bad.” She hugged you to her chest, pressing a small kiss to the crown of your head. “I think he still loves you. I mean, isn’t this book proof? After all these years, he wrote about you.” 

“I’m sure he moved on by now.” You whispered, your eyes growing tired already and the day had barely started. “I just need to lay down. I need to rest.” Your mind seemed to finally grow calm and your breathing steady, a small hiccup now in your throat but with a gulp of water, you were better.

“Just stay here. I don’t trust you to be alone right now.” Shoko’s voice drowned out as sleep overtook you, you could only feel her warmth as she held you and honestly it was all you needed at this moment, Shoko always made you feel safe and you couldn’t thank her more than enough for that right now as you slept.

You were a light sleeper, it was always something that Nanami pointed out about you. He always said how he felt like he couldn’t leave the room while you slept even if it was to use the bathroom afraid to wake you. He knew how important sleep was to you and he’d risk having a bladder infection if you got all 8 hours that you required. Nanami was sweet and caring like that. 

You didn’t think you’d break up with him ever. He was the one for you and he always made that clear. He pampered you and even after the breakup – though you didn’t need it – he left you with a check for five thousand dollars, saying it was for his half of the lease for the next few months. 

The breakup was brutal for you. You almost quit working entirely. Shoko was the only person you’d confined into and the only friend you left to check in on you especially when you didn’t want to leave the house. She brought you groceries and helped you shower until you finally were able to get up again.

Though it was hard to believe, it was Nanami who broke up with you. You thought it was a joke, a cliche little joke. 

“Baby, I’m not joking.” His voice was quiet and husky, he spoke as if he was going to cry. “I just need some time to myself. I need to figure out if this is what I want. You don’t have to wait for me, you just keep on living your life and being happy. But… I think it’s time we let this go.” 

You didn’t cry in front of him. You didn’t cry when he packed his things up. You certainly didn’t cry when he shut the door, leaving his key on the table because you knew he was joking. He had to be. But when you called him and his number was disconnected and you were blocked on any form of social media… that was when you broke down and cried. 

It happened out of nowhere. You overanalyzed every aspect of your relationship for where you went wrong. You wrote down every conversation you could remember and dissected it word by word. You watched every video and picture you had of the two of you looking for a bit of regret or anything on his face. You read every text message, looking for malice. He said he needed time to figure out if he wanted this but he always made it clear that he did and even that he was looking forward to having kids together, you two had even gone ring shopping months ago. 

You didn’t sleep and when you did, it was only for 4 hours and sometimes barely that. Your heart had an ache in it and the tears wouldn’t stop. You could only think why wasn’t I enough?

When you opened your eyes Shoko was still holding you and a small smile grew on your lips. “Thank you Shoko.” You knew if you could count on anyone, it was always going to be her. She was the one who pieced you back together and made sure that life didn’t destroy you and you couldn’t help but to be grateful. 

“Of course. ‘M going to let you spend the night here, okay? Let’s get some takeout and watch your favorite movies, how’s that sound?” She knew the way to your aching heart like the back of her hand. 

“It sounds amazing!” You stretched your arms out wide, leaning off of her and sitting up. “Should we start with Uptown Girls or Legally Blonde?” 

It took two days before you confronted him. Shoko was adamant about not giving you his address and you were tempted to get it from her phone. But luckily, you wore her down, she was probably tired of you bringing him or his book in every conversation. So now you stood there, nerves washing over you in waves.

The mahogany colored door stared at you – mocked you – and you returned the glare before you knocked on it, hard. This was just a door and you were angry at the person behind said door, not the door itself. 

It was almost like he was waiting on you because the door unlocked and opened. He even stepped aside to let you in, quiet. His straw-colored hair was parted differently and he even looked taller or broader – you couldn’t completely tell – but he looked different… seemed different. The atmosphere around him made your stomach clench and it made you mad; why did it feel like only you suffered from the breakup? Here he was – strong and tall – and you were nothing or rather the same.

“You wrote a romance erotica novel about our relationship?” It was what you practiced saying before you got out of your car – making sure your voice didn’t tremble – this time, it didn’t. 

“Well, hello to you too. Even after three and a half years, you still like to get straight to the point.” He grinned, putting a hand on your back to guide you to a seat on his couch. “I must ask, what makes you think it’s about you?” He does a slight laugh and raises his brow.

“We have the same initials, almost the same name. Are you kidding me?” You retort, folding your arms across your chest. You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in your chest that occurred when you heard his voice after so long, hearing him and seeing that damned smile… your nose scrunched up.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know you kept up with me… with my books…” He muttered, glancing your way, a demure look in his amber eyes. “Should I be flattered?” Almost in an instant, he turned on a slight cockiness to himself, though his body language showed his nervousness – his thigh bouncing a bit and his fingers tapping on the couch handle. A light sense of relief filled your system knowing that you weren’t the only one being affected by this.

“I don’t.” You inhaled deeply. “Shoko told me about it and then, I checked it out.” Fiddling with your fingers and even picking at your nails, that was your tell all sign of nervousness and right now you were engaging in it more than ever before. 

“I wanted to tell you or rather, to ask you. I know you got the voicemails I sent last year…and then you kept dodging my calls.” He tells you, you could feel his eyes on you – or more so your fingers… the nasty habit that he had finally got you to stop all those years ago rushing right back in an instant.

“Writing a book to trash me and our relationship… to make you look like some sort of… ugh, like you’re so amazing and I’m just shit. Yeah, that certainly got my attention.” If you were coming off bitchy or rude right there, you couldn’t care less especially when there were worse things that you could’ve said or even could’ve done at this moment. You really wanted to slap him. 

“Is that all you got out of it?” He asks with his head low, almost as if he was admitting defeat or as if he couldn’t believe you came up with something so trivial. 

“Was there anything else to get?” You counter, shifting your body towards him. Maybe it was best that you sat down and actually listened to the author and his interpretations of his work.

“How about that I love you regardless of any flaws… how about I find your stubbornness and attitude sexy and how I knew this breakup would be good for you. I was holding you back. I mean, I heard you got promoted 3 times since we broke up… I just felt like I was changing you, hindering your growth. I needed to reflect on myself and this book helped that.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh, yet another sign of his anxiousness. “Believe it or not, I still care about you. No matter what happened between us.”

“What happened? You mean when you decided to just leave? You could've told me everything you just told me and I would’ve understood better. We could’ve talked and came to a compromise. You don’t understand what you put me through after it.” You were close to tears but you straighten your posture and sniffled, it was best not to think about what happened before. “I just needed a bit of closure too, I guess that’s why I came. I just was caught off guard. You could’ve knocked on my door or something, forced me to answer… forced me to talk.”

He met your eye for the first time since you came over. “You wouldn’t have listened,” He huffs. “Didn’t I mention how stubborn you are? Plus, I meant what I said. I needed time to myself and I think we both did.”

“I guess…But Nanami, this book was too much. A letter would’ve been fine if you needed closure, don’t you think?” You see his lips quirk up a bit before he licks them, trying not to laugh it seems.

“My publisher got a hold of some of the documents where I was just going over things, writing here and there. She loved the idea… plus I’m in a contract for six books so I had to put something out soon, it had already been a year.” He told you, sitting his chin on top of his knuckles. “I honestly didn't mean to hurt you. I was writing for fun… reminiscing about us and then later down the line, I realized I was writing because I wanted you to read it, I just didn’t exactly know how to get you to since you were very adamant on avoiding me, which is understandable. But regardless, I didn’t think it’d get on the bestseller list or for the reviews to get so harsh.” He admits, reaching for your hand before his hand froze in midair and he stopped himself, choosing instead to put it behind his head.

“Is there anyway you can stop the sequel from being published then… since you got my attention after all this time?” You asked, putting your most dazzling smile on, hoping to sway him. 

“I can talk to my publisher. Everything’s in print and materials are already done… but I’ll try to see if I can stop production.” His adam’s apple bobbles when he does a harsh swallow. “Are we… okay? Do you forgive me?”

The question made you pause. He always made it hard for you to not forgive him; it took one look or a smile and a small explanation and it made it easy to fall in love with him all over again, no matter what he did… it seems. But it made you ask yourself: Were you too easy? Did you really forgive him? It was thoughts like that swirling around the corners of your mind. You wanted to forgive him, he was just writing and telling a story… but it was your story, not just his. Using this for your attention when he could’ve written about anything else, he didn’t have to. Were you just ready to forgive him because you still loved him? 

You hadn’t realized how deep in thought you were until you felt the couch dip and even then, your mind was still spirling.“You don’t have to…” His voice brings you out of your thoughts, his body so close to yours that it was getting hard to breathe. He still smelled the same; citrus and woodsy and it was easy to get yourself sucked back in. 

“So you can write another book about my stubbornness?” You give a quiet giggle, scooting a bit away from him, seeing him frown from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to fall back but he made it all so simple. It was easy and you were already falling back on him and you didn’t need that… Did you?

“Baby…” Your body buzzed and hummed, turning to him with wide eyes. “I’ll do anything I can to make this right. Anything for you to forgive me… If they can’t stop publication, what can I do to make us right?” He was doing more than a gaze, he was full on staring and from how close he was it was hard to avoid. 

“Nanami I–” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t really think of anything he could do but you could think of several unhealthy things you could do to ruin your progress on going over him. He had betrayed you and made you a laughing stock so why are you stuck thinking about forgiveness when you should be leaving.

“I never stopped loving you.” His fingers traced up and down your pants but his eyes stayed on yours. “I never thought about anyone but you… I never slept with anyone… it’s always been you. But, I understand what I put you through and I’ll apologize every second until you forgive me…” The blond man who you never saw shed a tear looked more than close to it. “But just please… forgive me.”

“I’m sorry, honest.” He tries again after being met with absolute silence. “Just… let me show you, okay?” His breath tickles your face for a second and when you look into his cocoa brown eyes, you feel everything you once felt again.

Memories of good times dulls out the odd feelings in the pit of your stomach – the confusion and pain – instead are replaced with joy. The trip to Malaysia where he rubbed sunscreen on your entire body and laid back to read a book and you watched as his eyes kept drifting to you while you played in the cerulean water; how you kept begging him to come in until he complied and how eventually in the early hours of the morning when you wanted another dip, he fucked you twice — once in the golden lush sand and another in the cool ocean water. 

His face is in your thighs and you couldn’t help but feel better, feeling his breath fanning so close to your pants covered pussy, your body felt scorching hot. He’s grumbling, “Will you let me make it up to you? Will you let me show you how sorry I am?” 

You must’ve nodded because he was already unbuttoning your pants and helping you lay back, pulling your shirt up just a bit to see your perky tits – he must’ve remembered how you never wore bras unless you felt it was necessary, which was mainly work or any important events. 

He blew a bit on your hardening nipples before he took one into his mouth – playing biting them with a smug look on his face before he began licking around your areolas and kissing around the swells of your breast. He doesn’t say anything but he looks deep in thought as he kisses down your body, his fingers scraping down your sides as he works your pants and your panties all the way down. Bringing his head up for a minute, he looks in your face. “I love you.” He says it simply, heavy emotions swirling in his brown eyes.

Removing your pants and underwear completely from your body, he spreads your thighs and looks over your body – a trimmed low pretty bush sits between your thighs and it makes him smile, he always loved seeing the curled hair on your delicate lower lips. He spreads your pussy, watching the skin stretch with a deep smile on his face. You could feel yourself … the wetness leaking down under your body and it made you cringe, but the way he was staring at you made the insecurities vanish. “All this for me?” He takes a tentative lick before he slurps, clutching your hips. “I know you like to run… but I need you to stay put, got it?” It was hard for you to listen to him, your head already fuzzy and the thoughts swirling around were only about him, nothing more. 

Then your body bucks up, “Wait–!” A broken moan escapes your mouth when he presses a soft wet kiss to your clit. Nanami had always been gentle and very careful whenever he ate you out; making sure his tongue was wet enough and that he wasn’t too rough. His tongue was wide enough to make your back arch, your body leaving the couch when it finally hit your clit and he gave you no time to recover before he peeled back the hood, sitting the tip of his tongue there and rapidly flicked at the bud. 

Hearing the lewd squelching noises coming from the mixture of your cunt and his mouth made you close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. He spits before he licks it up and down your aching slit, nudging his tongue inside only slightly, much to your dismay. You’re gasping every second when more of his tongue slips in and out of your pussy; sliding a bit more each time and it makes your thighs shake. When he finally slips his entire tongue inside of you, curling it just enough that you can feel it everywhere, your legs attempt to close up around his head. “Please– ‘m so… soo–oh…” His fingers join in on the fun and in small sloppy circles he rubs your clit, pressing down on the pearl while his tongue continues flicking inside of you. The split second that you open your eyes, his are already on yours and it was that moment, that made your body tense up and for you to cum. 

It happens fast, clear sticky wetness leaks out of you and Nanami still tries to get more of it on his tongue, catching anything that drips and sucking on your folds. “Always so fucking good…” He mutters, spreading you again and smearing more of your slick on his face by shaking his head between your thighs, so that he’s completely covered in you. 

When he moves his head, embarrassment comes over you, looking at his wet face… even his forehead was wet and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby but… I’ll be right back, stay wet for me.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, lying there on this now wet couch. You didn’t come over here for this and yet here you are… about to get fucked and really, it was no turning back now. You’d been on dates with men after Nanami but they never lasted past the second date and you certainly hadn’t had sex in a while, but he made you come apart like it was nothing.  

But then again, Nanami knew your body… so of course this was a walk in the park for him. It honestly annoyed you right now, you couldn’t even make yourself cum half the time especially these last few years and now, barely an hour here and he has you right where he wanted you… bare and practically back in love with him.

Nanami came back with a fresh face and unbuttoned pants that he was currently pulling down. You clenched around nothing, your mind thinking only of the perfect dick that was going to be coming out of those pants. You licked your lips, this would be the first dick you saw in years and it was his. 

His drooling cock slapped his stomach and you swallowed, your mouth felt unreasonably dry. The length of his cock always impressed you, standing tall at seven and a half inches, he shakes with laughter which snaps you out of your daze. “Now let me look at you.” His whispers and even though he already saw you, both years ago and right now, you can’t help but feel hot all over again. He’s staring – drawing his eyes down every inch of your body –  focusing on your breast before getting to the stare of the show yet again. He smirks, laying you back down, pressing his body against yours to kiss you. 

Your breath was caught in your throat, his tongue still tasted of you and his hands cups your jaw. He’s gentle, his tongue moving around your mouth messily before he stops, saliva breaking apart when he does so. His fingers make a ghostly featherlight touch on your clit that makes you jump, the head of his cock at your entrance. He holds out his hand, close to your mouth. “Spit.” Gathering up some, you spit in the palm of his hand and stroke it along his length, huffing at the sensation. 

He pushes in, taking his time to work himself inside of you, a strained expression on his face. Hips pulled back, he focuses more on just the tip of himself fucking you, watching your pussy stretch with just the tiniest bit of resistance. Inching himself inside, you watch his torso flex and he groans, obscene noises plop and plap around the apartment, his heavy cock pushing in and out of you, your toes curling. 

“Pussy still mines, right? Didn’t give it away, did you?” You’re struggling to talk - to fucking breathe - your eyes rolling back and your jaw slacked but you babble out a soft ‘no’ which makes him finally thrust in you harder, completely bottoming out. You feel him in your belly, feeling full and embarrassingly wide with him stretching you out, his balls sitting on the crest of your ass before he moves. 

He moves you a bit, your bodies flush to each other and he moves his hips in harsh circles, his pelvis so close to your clit. His hands on your calves, he pushes your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, your knees touching your ears makes you tighten up and he groans above you.

“Nanami I-” You call out, eyes closed with pleasure shaking through your core, wetness slapping between the both of you. 

“Nanami? No, call me what you used to call me.” His hips slowed down, a whine escaping your lips. His cock dragging inside of your walls, pulling out slowly, awaiting your response. 

“Please…don’t slow down, Ken—” before the word even left your lips, his hand slapped your cunt, leaving your legs shaking a bit and your eyes snapping open. Drops of tears run down your cheeks and you sniffle, reaching for him… you couldn’t help but feel so small in his presence.

“Say it.” Then, you knew what he meant. A name that now feels foreign in your brain and even when it leaves your mouth, it comes out in a strange rattled whimper.

“Oh, oh… daddy, ‘m sorry. Please, keep fucking me. It’s so goooood!” He’s grinning before the words leave your mouth.

“Still my good girl huh? Always so fucking good for daddy.” He licks up your neck and it makes you tremble, your tongue lolling out a bit and he moves to suckle on it. “Did you skip over all those sex scenes or did you rub this pussy out to them?” He asks, his fingers digging in the back of your thighs. 

You choked out, sobbing, “I did, daddy… But I-I don’t want to remember everything.” 

“You don’t remember all the words I used to describe this cunt? This pretty pussy? That changed his life… my life? That made him always crawl back? That made him so fucking hard? The pretty words I used to describe you? To describe how pretty she always looked when he fucked her? How his heart felt like it was going to explode when she looked at him too long because he loved her so damn much?” He’s groaning in your ear, thrusting into you, his depth reaching your g-spot, your pussy spasming and begging for his cum at every word he uttered. 

Pumping himself inside, you could see the white creaminess that was on his cock, most likely because of you, he was constantly fucking the cream inside of you, your nails digged into his arms and he moaned at the feeling. Your stomach tightens and you move to push him away, “I’m going to c–cum!” You felt him throbbing inside of you, signaling that he was close too. “Please, cum inside of me… I can’t take it.” You couldn’t stand it any longer, it’s been years and you needed him to fill you up. He stopped for a moment, changing positions so that you’ll be sitting on his lap, grabbing your hips and forcibly bouncing you on his dick, dangerously slow. 

Wetness gushes on him as his tip hits you from a new angle, seeing the outline of him in your tummy, he’s stretching you again with each nasty thrust. Each drag of his cock making you go crazy and the aching between your legs continue, your body shaking and both of you moaning loudly and over each other. 

Finally, your orgasm rattled and shook your entire body, your pussy sucking him in, milking him for all he’s worth and it makes his body shake and he releases inside of you, trying to stay quiet as his body jerks up, unable to stop himself from fucking you through both of your orgasms.

It’s quiet for a while, just heavy breathing with you laying on his chest. “I love you too…” Your voice is scratchy and your face tear stained. He doesn’t say anything, his cock still pulsing inside of you.

“I know. I love you too, never stopped.” 

“Did you at least read the acknowledgements or did you just dive right in?”

“I never read the acknowledgements for books, thought you would’ve remembered that.” You watch him get up, walking around the living room, looking for something. You were both still naked and the entire room smelled of sex. 

“I did remember that and when you barged in my door, I already knew that you still hadn’t changed when it came to that. Here, read this part right here.” He brings you over a copy and you run your fingers around the softback cover with a small smile on your face; this silly thing had brought you both back together and right now you could give less than a fuck about those reviews. 

Feeling the spine of the book, you open it and can practically smell the scent of an unopened new book. Turning the first few pages, you go to the one page acknowledgment and read it aloud: “She might not read this book. But if she does, by chance. I hope she knows that I still love her.” You wiped your eyes and smiled. “You’re an asshole, you know?”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “I know baby.” Kissing the top of your head, he gets up and grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and you follow him. “I think I have enough material to write a third book now.” He grabs his phone and starts typing, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was deep in thought. Attempting to grab his phone he chuckles and uses his height to his advantage by standing taller.

Standing on the tips of your toes you snort, “Don’t even joke about that!” But a smile takes over your face and he can’t help but smile too. 

[lewisvinga]

yeah, my wife | oscar piastri x fem! reader

summary; oscar randomly revealed that he was married young and it sends the grid into chaos and confusion. what he reveals after made everything more chaotic

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; cursing

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi

note; tbh this was originally gonna be a written fic but i decided w smau lols

masterlist !

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liked by yourusername, landonorris, and others !

oscarpiastri: 7 years of being with you, 4 years of being married. thank you for always being by my side and giving me one of the greatest gifts, our daughter. happy anniversary, i love you.

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: osc🥹🥹🥹

yourusername: oscar jr and i love you so much🧡🧡

landonorris: OSCAR JUNIOR?????

oscarpiastri: his name actually isn’t oscar dumbass

landonorris: whyd she say oscar jr🙄

yourusername: bc i happen to carry her for 9 months only for her to look exactly like the man who participated for 5 mins 😔

oscarpiastri: she’s my mini me😁

username: TJIS IS NOT A DRILLLL

username: omg he’s A GIRL DAD????😧😧😧

username: that’s so perf for him omg

logansargeant: happy anniversary to my favorite couple!❤️

oscarpiastri: 4 years ago we partied like miami frat boys wow😮

yourusername: thank you, logan<3333 i’m bringing sugar cookies tmrw btw!!!

logansargeant: SCORE!

alex_albon: share w the rest of us🙄

logansargeant: no

charles_leclerc: A CHILD HAVING A CHILD???😀😀😀

oscarpiastri: i’m 23 actually

charles_leclerc: A CHILD BASICALLY????

username: wait omg high school sweethearts this is so cute 🥹🥹🥹

maxverstappen1: damn with a child too??

oscarpiastri: well, yes!

lewishamilton: fatherhood suits you! congrats to you both❤️

oscarpiastri: thank you, lewis!

yourusername: akkdoakxkdkxoskxosdo lewis knows who i am alsnakdk

username: y/n is so me actually

pierregasly: yk what, hiding a wife and child is such a you thing.. congratulations though!

oscarpiastri: 😺😺

username: never beating the cat allegations i fear

username: LMAO DID NONE OF TJE DRIVERS KNOW???😭😭😭

landonorris: NO. 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

landonorris: HE’S SO FAKE

landonorris: #cancelloscarpiastri #oscarpiastriisoverparty

logansargeant: i knew 😋

landonorris: FUCK YOU AMERICANS!!!

oscarpiastri: someone’s grumpy…..😆

yourusername: maybe he needs a nap like baby piastri 🤔🤔

landonorris: actually i am quite tired