#i don't know what else to tag i'm shaking!!!!!! this feels like so much pressure

[kamaluhkhan]

we were wild and fluorescent (come home to my heart)

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: nostalgia + fluff + a bit of a *steamy* ending ; mentions of sex; swearing; conrad and reader drink alcohol; reader is a competitive swimmer + deals with a lot of pressure; complicated family dynamics (reader has two younger siblings + is eldest daughter); pop culture references (it book/movie, percy jackson series), this chapter is very long + ending is a little cheesy !!

tags: @stargirlsirius-recs, @ifilwtmfc, @qwertyb2577, @allnrsnz, @baconeggndcheez, @peanutbelley, @imogen-skye, @geekinthefuschiahair, @tvije, @drikawinchester, @maybankslover, @junnniiieee07, @elcpsstuff, @fangirl-kimora, @redbierd, @starkeylover, @serrendiipty, @jackierose902109, @lonelywitchv2, @c4rpediem-s, @teensyflowur, @peteronesgf, @percysaidnever

a/n: i literally cannot express how much it means to me that people are reading + enjoying my work!! thank you endlessly for following this story. this chapter is mostly fluff with a lot of banter between the reader and conrad + nostalgia. i'm thinking this will be the last part (....unless?) so i hope you enjoy it :)

part one | part two | part three

on a summer afternoon / i get to thinkin' 'bout the hazy days / under august shade that i used to spend with you (khai dreams, “sunkissed”)

now — summer age 18

you’re already frustrated when you walk over to the beck house, and when the person you least want to answer the door opens it, your mood goes from bad to worse.

"hey. is jere home?" you ask, peering behind conrad to see if someone else, anyone else is there. this is the first time since your argument that you and he were alone together, and you really don't want to look him in the eye. he doesn't look too thrilled to see you standing on his porch, either. he looks at you with tired eyes, wearing a black, short-sleeved rashguard and hair dripping wet. 

"no, sorry." 

"how about steven?"

conrad shakes his head and droplets of water go flying. he says something about prep for the debutante ball.

you exhale sharply, upset that your backup plan just fell through. "okay, bye."

you start walking away, but conrad calls your name. 

"everything okay?"

you're surprised by his follow-up question — suspicious, even. given the harsh words you'd exchanged the last time you were together, you assumed that conrad didn't very much care to prolong a conversation with you, much less whether or not you were okay. whatever his intentions are, you don't really have time to go down this road. 

"everything's fine," you answer loudly, still forging ahead.

"come on, y/n. i know you." 

your hands clench into fists at his words and you finally stop in your tracks. 

"conrad," you huff, turning around to face him. "i really don't have time for this." 

"look, i'm not…." conrad sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. "i'm not trying to start anything. you seem a little stressed, and if there's anything i can do….just, let me be there for you."

conrad used to always be there for you in situations like these, and you ignored the sharp pain in your heart earlier when you decided he couldn't be this time. you really, really, really want to stay mad at him — you certainly have enough reasons to be for several lifetimes — but the gentleness of conrad's tone calms you down as much as it throws you off. instinctively, you feel your hands unclench, your heartbeat slow down. 

“so, what’s wrong?”

you sigh. your siblings had planned an overnight trip with their friends at a campground about 3 hours away. they were meant to leave this afternoon, but the chaperones just cancelled — one had car trouble and the other a work emergency. now, they didn’t have a ride or adult supervision, which left you to come up with an alternative, lest you want to spend the rest of your summer drying your siblings’ tears and dealing with a lengthy guilt trip from your mother (who, conveniently, has plans this weekend and can’t reschedule). you left that last part out of your story to conrad, explaining only the basic components of your dilemma.

“but, it’s fine. i’ll sort something out.” as you wait for conrad to respond, you’re already running through a few other alternatives in your mind. you’re just in the middle of estimating the amount of money you would spend on gas when conrad says:

"well, i can come with you." 

you quirk your eyebrow at him. “yeah, you don’t need —”

“you’ll need two cars — and two drivers — to get them there, right? i'm not doing anything right now, or tomorrow.”

“it’s not your problem, conrad. i’ll figure something out —”

“look, you have three options," he interrupts, tilting his head at you. "one, you take two trips yourself to get them all there, which means you’d spend around 10 hours driving each way and waste a ton of money on gas.”

you stiffen. 

you hate that he knows exactly how your brain works….

“two, the twins have to cancel their trip, and you spend the rest of the summer with your siblings upset at you and your mom suggesting that you’re a bad sister, which is not true.”

you hate that he understands exactly the situation you’re in….

“three, you let me help you.”

….and you hate that he always insists on being helpful.

that was the real reason that you didn’t want to ask conrad — because you suspected that he might offer to help regardless of the tension between you two. the conrad you remember was always concerned with doing the right thing, no matter what, and despite how different he’s acting this summer, you knew that caring boy was still there, deep down.

sometimes, you hate being right — it can get a bit tedious.

conrad waits for you to answer, but he obviously knows you well enough to guess your decision. you don’t find the prospect of camping with conrad particularly appealing, but you’re desperate.

you tell conrad to be ready to leave in an hour, before walking back to your place to tell your siblings the good news.

a little over an hour later, your siblings, their friends — devi, khadija, kai, and leo — and all the camping supplies are split in between your and conrad’s cars. you decided to divide the group into threes: you’d drive your sister, khadija and leo; and conrad would drive your brother, devi, and kai. once everyone’s buckled in, you and conrad close the trunk of your respective cars and turn to each other.

“so, we’ve got a spot booked at stardust falls, but the plan is to stop halfway —”

“at sophie’s for a bite to eat,” conrad finishes, a smile creeping on his face. “i know the drill.”

you bite back a smile yourself before nodding at him and getting in the driver's seat.

as your sister cues up a playlist — you had just made her watch lemonade mouth so she was currently obsessed with hayley kiyoko and her music — you get lost in memories of summers past. 

it was a tradition, many years ago: your siblings were too young to join, so for one weekend in late august it was you, conrad, jeremiah, belly, and steven with susannah and laurel, the seven of you piled into a minivan for an overnight camping trip. you spent the drive blasting music and singing along, playing ‘i spy’ while gorging on goldfish crackers and sunny d. about halfway through, there would be a pit stop to refill the gas tank, stock up on snacks, and get something to eat from the nearby diner. you would always get waffles with extra whipped cream and conrad would get chocolate chip pancakes, and you’d always split the food between you. once you got to stardust falls, you’d spend the afternoon swimming and sunbathing, and the night roasting hot dogs and marshmallows, stargazing and whispering until sunrise. 

as much as you loved laurel and susannah, you and conrad would dream of getting your driver’s licence and being able to continue the tradition with just the kids. you never got the chance; it was only five years ago, when you were the same age as your siblings now, that you had gone on your last camping trip to the same location. 

it seems your dreams were finally coming true — just not in the way you expected.

when you get to sophie’s diner, you’re relieved to have a chance to stretch your legs. the eight of you get a familiar booth in the right corner and you find yourself squeezed between devi and the window. the waiter distributes menus to everyone, and it isn’t until you look down that you see it: your initials next to ‘CF’. last time you were here, the five of you all carved your initials onto the table when the moms weren’t looking. you forgot that you’d placed yours right next to conrad’s; to be fair, you were always sitting next to each other. now he’s at the other end of the table on the opposite side, examining the menu carefully even after being here so many times. 

this time, you just get a coffee and steal some bacon from your brother; conrad doesn’t get anything, claiming he isn’t hungry, until your sister offers him the rest of her french toast, which he practically inhales. after, you and conrad fill up on gas while your siblings and their friends go into the store for some snacks. 

“hey, can you get me some sour patch kids?” you ask your brother, handing him a $5 bill. your brother nods and starts walking away; you glance at conrad, then add: “and some m&m’s, too!” to which your brother offers a thumbs up. 

“thanks,” conrad says. he removes the nozzle and sticks it into the gas tank; you do the same, and for a few moments, there’s nothing but silence between you.

“does listening to the lightning thief musical on repeat make your brother a theatre kid?” 

you turn to face conrad, who’s already looking at you with a lopsided smile. 

“i think it makes him more of a percy jackson kid,” you decide.

“well, he has good taste. i didn’t even know there was a percy jackson musical,” conrad adds. 

“i know, right?” you gush. “my brother and kai went to see it off broadway, and of course i had to chaperone, but i’m so glad i did because how, in the name of all the gods, did we not know this existed?”

conrad laughs. “we would have been obsessed,” he agrees. 

you smile, feeling yourself hit by another wave of nostalgia. 

when you were younger, you, conrad, jeremiah, steven, and belly loved the percy jackson series, rotating the books between the five of you until everyone had read them, the covers well-worn and sand stuck between the pages. so, for belly’s 9th birthday, laurel wrote out a prophecy with an elaborate quest for the five of you to go on - something about searching for poseidon's missing trident - while susannah used the time to fashion the backyard into your very own camp half-blood. you each got ‘assigned’ a godly parent: apollo for jeremiah, ever the sunshine boy; hermes for steven, the trickster of the group; aphrodite for belly, who looked at the world with rose coloured glasses; poseidon for you, because you loved the water; and athena for conrad, wise beyond his years. 

yes, your heart did skip a beat, because of what a perfect coincidence — that conrad was essentially the annabeth to your percy. when would the two of you share the best underwater kiss of all time? 

after a fun-filled afternoon, you each took home a necklace filled with clay beads, as was tradition at the fictional camp half-blood. even after summer ended, you would always wear yours in between swim competitions and practice. somewhere along the way, you misplaced it; it was probably left on the chlorine soaked floor of a locker room. you wondered if the others still had theirs, if conrad even remembered. 

he’s looking at you now with such wistfulness, you have a feeling he does. when he looks at you like that, it’s easy to forget that you’re mad at him and he broke your heart. scratch that: you’re mad at him because he broke your heart. 

and, not that it solves everything between you, but he’s here and didn’t have to be, and that maybe possibly heals something inside you. 

before you can continue the conversation, a sudden click indicates that the gas tanks are full, just in time for your siblings and their friends to exit the convenience store, carrying a significant haul of snacks and drinks. 

your brother hands you the sour patch kids and m&m’s, and you toss the bag of m&m’s at conrad, which he catches effortlessly. you rip open the package with your teeth and stuff a few of the sour candies in your mouth as everyone piles back into their respective cars.

you open the door to get in the driver’s seat, but the passenger side is empty. that’s when you notice that your sister and devi were still walking back from the store, taking their time. your sister laughs a little louder than usual, her smile a bit brighter when devi bends down to steal a sip of her drink. she’s wearing a jacket that you’ve never seen and probably belongs to devi, and your sister’s pair of sunglasses now rests on devi’s head. technically the sunglasses were yours, before you passed them down to your sister, but still — it’s adorable. devi winks at your sister before slipping into the backseat of conrad's car. your sister sighs contently before freezing at the realisation that you witnessed the moment between them.

"what?" she asks, a little flustered.

something makes you glance over your shoulder at conrad, who you now realise had seen the interaction between your sister and devi as well. beside him, the door to the driver’s side is also open, but he doesn’t get in. instead, conrad raises his eyebrows at you and smiles knowingly.

“nothing,” you say, smiling back at conrad, then at your sister. “but hurry up, if you want to make it to the falls before sundown.”

your sister mumbles something and gets in the car, while you check the route one more time. you tell conrad which one has the least amount of traffic, and soon enough, you’re on the road again.

conrad follows closely behind you, never allowing more than a car between before catching up. you glance in the rearview mirror and see your brother belting the words to what you assume is the percy jackson musical, and conrad is even bopping his head along. in your car, your sister is busy reading the song of achilles while the others in the back are relatively quiet. 

“so what’s going on with you and discount james dean?” your sister suddenly asks. she puts her book down, reaches over into the cupholder to grab a few sour patch kids. 

you laugh at the nickname, even if the answer disappoints you, just a bit.

“nothing.” 

out of the corner of your eye, you can glimpse your sister roll her eyes. 

“that seems to be your favourite word today,” she notes.

“fine, how about this for a change of pace….there was definitely something earlier between you and devi.”  

your sister’s jaw drops and she turns around to see if her friends heard, but khadija is asleep and leo has his headphones on, looking down at his phone.

“y/n!” 

“what!” you mock her incredulous tone. “you’re not fooling anyone.”

“i’m not…we’re not…” your sister stumbles over her words, turning her head sharply to face out the window. she plays with the sleeve of devi’s jacket, which she’s still wearing despite it almost being 85 degrees. the same music as before fills the space, and hayley kiyoko sings about girls liking girls as you wait for your sister to answer. 

she finally sighs when the song ends. “i like her, okay? but we’re just friends.”

at her words, you’re overwhelmed by an eerie sense of deja vu. if you could have done things differently, maybe you would have. and maybe, just maybe, you can help your sister have a better outcome — whatever that means for her. 

“look, kid, i know it feels like the end of the world, but you have options,” you promise. “one, you tell her and she doesn’t feel the same way; your relationship is forever ruined and your other friends have to choose sides —”

“y/n! seriously?”

“i’m just preparing you for the worst case scenario,” you defend, exiting the highway. “the best case scenario is that you tell her how you feel, or she feels the same way and beats you to it, and it all works out. and there is, of course, the secret third option.”

“what’s that?”

you shrug. “easy. you never cross that line.” you follow the signs that lead you to your destination.

“and bottle up my feelings forever,” your sister grumbles. “is that what you and conrad did?”

you make a right into the campground and put the car in park; conrad’s car pulls up next to you a few seconds later. you turn off the engine.

“not exactly.”

_________________________________________

you and conrad unpack the trunks as your siblings and their friends set up their tents. you hear their giddy banter as they plan how to spend the rest of the afternoon, as well as the sleeping arrangements. you smile to yourself when you hear devi suggest that she and your sister share a tent. the cars are pretty much empty except for some food to keep away animals, but you notice that not everything made the trip.

you double check your car, then conrad’s, before calling over your brother.

“yo, what happened to my bag?” you ask him. 

“i thought it was your swim stuff, so i took it out of the trunk,” he explains. “did you need it?”

“oh no, no. it just had all my clothes, my sleeping bag and my tent,” you say sarcastically. “no big deal.”

your brother gives you a thumbs up, clearly not getting the message. he seems more interested in kai, who's currently unpacking his guitar.

“cool,” he says before walking back to his friends. 

you huff and close your trunk. at least there is some balance in the universe: the mosquito repellant was in your bag, and your brother is usually their favourite meal. you always have afterbite, or you would have, if you had your stuff with you. 

thankfully, you had your bathing suit underneath your clothes, and you could sleep in the backseat, even if it wasn’t the most comfortable…

“everything okay?” conrad sneaks up behind you.

“turns out none of my stuff is here.” you shrug. “but it’s fine.”

“i mean, we could share my stuff,” conrad offers, lifting up his bag. knowing him, he’s probably overprepared and carefully packed, even with only an hour’s notice.

you look at him for a second. 

“let’s sort that out later, yeah?” you decide, ignoring how the prospect of wearing his clothes, sharing a tent with him, makes your heart beat faster. “i’m itching to go for a swim.”

taking advantage of the late afternoon sun, you all slather on sunscreen, throw on colourful swimsuits with sunglasses, and relax near the water. it’s only a short walk away from where you’d set up camp, and all your tents (well, except yours) are still in view. your brother, leo, and khadija are sitting down on their towels while playing cards. kai has borrowed your sister’s copy of the song of achilles to read. your sister and devi are, splashing each other in the water. conrad is reading a worn of stephen king’s it, a bottle of lemonade resting next to him.    

khadija brought her wireless speaker, and out of all your siblings’ friends, you’re thankful that she has the best taste in music. “this is the day” by the the plays in the background of everyone’s laughter and playful banter. you swim idly in the water, let your skin absorb the sunlight, and take it all in.

as much as you were stressed this morning, you’re practically floating with joy now. you feel like a kid again — and it finally feels like summer. 

your eyes land on conrad once more. he sits in the shade and you’re craving a sip of his drink, so you get out of the water and settle down next to him like it’s the most natural thing for you to do. you’re dripping on his towel, but he doesn’t seem to care; he hands you the bottle of lemonade without a word. you take a sip, surprised that it’s slightly bitter. 

“does this have vodka in it?” you cough. 

“yeah,” conrad answers, putting his book down. he takes off his sunglasses and rests them on his head. “i can get you something else, if you want.”

you shake your head and take another sip. “it’s fine. just don’t let the kids drink any alcohol, okay?”

“i won’t.” he offer you a wry smile. “but you know they’re not kids, right? they’re teenagers.”

“it feels weird calling them teenagers,” you say. he’s sitting up with his knees bent, and you lay down next to him, but not before stealing his sunglasses to shield your eyes. the sun moved slightly, and starts to peek through the leaves of the tree that was providing shade.

“just because we grew up, doesn’t mean they have to," you add once you're comfortable. 

conrad hums. you tilt your head to look at him and notice his eyes lingering on the tattoo below the band of your lime green bikini top. you smile — he blushes, then looks away. conrad takes the lemonade bottle back from you and swallows a mouthful. you close your eyes, let the sun wash over you.

“my mom told me you got into stanford,” he says suddenly. “that’s really cool that you get to go to california. just like you wanted, right?”

“i thought you hated horror,” you say, referencing the book you saw him reading earlier. you desperately want to change the subject — your father is still pushing princeton because of their swim team rankings, and your mother is too busy spending her free time in bars to really care. needless to say, where you’re going to college isn’t a topic you want to discuss, unless you’re looking to ruin this perfect sunny afternoon.

conrad just looks at you for a second before playing along.

“i usually do, but this guy on my football team wouldn’t shut up about stephen king, so i thought i’d give it a try. you’ve read it?”

“no, but i saw the movies. i cried so much in it: chapter two, like i was practically choking on tears in the middle of this dark theatre. my ex had no idea why i was crying so much.”

“why did you cry so much?”

you open your eyes. it takes you a beat to respond, because you never really thought about it that deeply. by now, the song has changed to david bowie’s ‘heroes,’ and watching your siblings and their friends goof off in the middle of summer makes you feel like a background character in a coming of age movie, when five years ago you would have been one of the main characters. you miss those days, almost as much as you miss what you had with the boy next to you.

“because it reminded me of this,” you admit. 

conrad lets out a small chuckle. “did i miss the summer where we fought a killer clown?”

“no, smart ass,” you shove his leg playfully. “but there were other things that were just as intimidating. like, parents who were jerks with soul-crushing expectations, and younger siblings who needed to be taken care of. drinking problems, cancer diagnoses, divorces. just…everything, you know? it was summer, we were kids, and things were just scary sometimes, but we always faced it together. and, then…”

“we grew up,” conrad finishes. 

“yeah,” you muse. you lift the sunglasses off your face to look at conrad, and he’s already gazing down at you. if you closed your eyes again, you could imagine laurel and susannah sitting by the water and gossiping, steven and jeremiah diving underwater to try and catch a fish with their bare hands, and belly laying in the sun while reading a romance novel she's probably too young to read. but all you see now is conrad, smiling at you softly with the golden sunlight shining behind him, and it makes your heart ache. 

belly mentioned that they hadn't been back here since you stopped coming to cousins. because it wasn't the same.

your voice drops to a whisper. “i'm sorry i ruined it."

"don't give yourself so much credit." his smile at you sadly. "we both made things messy; i should be sorry, too."

"are you?" 

he hesitates, finishes off the bottle of lemonade. 

"yeah," he finally says. "i'm sorry."

and it doesn’t feel like enough, but instead of worrying about what would happen tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after, you just focus on today. you relax back down on the towel next to conrad, and let the sunshine and sounds of summer fun wash over you.

the afternoon fades into the evening, and once everyone's dry, you get started on dinner, then dessert.

it's so familiar: the warm glow of the campfire, the smell of burnt marshmallows, the slight itch on your skin from where a mosquito must have bitten you, the pressure of conrad's knee pressed against yours. 

you get up for more graham crackers, and your sister follows you. 

"so, i hear you and conrad are sharing a tent," she teases. "you're welcome."

"why would i thank you?" you wonder, biting into a graham cracker. 

a wicked smile appears on your sister's face. "well, i was the one who told our dear brother that you wouldn't need your bag. i figured your boyfriend would have everything you need."

"conrad's not my boyfriend," you remind her, a little annoyed. you and conrad made nice earlier, but the peace between you is precarious. you aren't particularly thrilled to be in a situation where you're confined to close quarters together — much less now that you know it's been fabricated by your own sister.

"so then why are you and conrad sleeping together in a one person tent?" she challenges, crossing her arms.

"do you want me to sleep outside and get eaten by werewolves?" 

your sister rolls her eyes, but you notice how she shudders just a little bit. 

"those don't exist," she declares, her voice a little shaky. your sister is old enough to know that monsters aren't real, but you still get a kick out of scaring her - especially when she's done something to frustrate you.

"oh, sure they do," you reply easily. conrad arrives at the table next to you just in time, probably to check on those graham crackers you'd promised to get. "stardust falls is crawling with werewolves, right con?"

"no," he answers. your sister sighs with relief too soon, because conrad continues. "only on the full moon…." he makes a big show of pulling down his sleeve and checking his watch. "which is tonight, if i remember correctly." 

"but, don't worry," you wink at your sister. "devi will protect you."

there's a moment of silence between the three of you, before you and conrad burst out laughing. 

"you guys are the worst!" your sister groans. you and conrad are still laughing as she grabs an unopened bag of marshmallows and snatches the pack of graham crackers from you before storming away. 

"thanks,” you say once you’ve both calmed down. 

he grins at you, reaching over to grab an orange. “my pleasure.” 

you smile back at him before walking back to the campfire, already feeling warmth spread through your chest.

_________________________________________

when the night is at its darkest, everyone decides that it’s probably time for bed. you triple check to make sure the fire is out and all the food is away, and then everyone goes into their tent — with you as the exception.

you and conrad never circled back to whether or not you’d be staying in the tent with him, so you end up staying out by the water. 

there’s still some rustling and whispers from the tents behind you, but mostly you’re left with the soft trill of crickets, and what sounds like an owl in the distance. you’re still wearing your bikini top and cutoff shorts, even though there’s a cool breeze near the water, because you didn’t really have another option. conrad was right earlier — it’s a full moon, and you’re thankful that it provides some light. the sky is clear enough that you can also see the stars. you’re so lost in looking for constellations that you’re startled by the sudden appearance of shadow right next to you.

“shit, conrad. you gave me a heart attack!” you exclaim, just loud enough for conrad to hear and quiet enough to not wake the others.

“sorry,” he whispers back, sitting down next to you with a lantern. “i couldn’t sleep.” conrad tilts his head up. “but, i come bearing gifts.”

conrad hands you one of the mugs he’s holding — not the usual thermos you’d bring for camping, but ones that you’d find in the kitchen back at the beach house.  

in the dim light, you see that it’s your favorite mug, the same mug you’d dropped during your argument a few weeks ago. the cracked porcelain is so carefully repaired, you wouldn’t have known it was broken. 

“thanks,” you whisper. you take a sip of the lukewarm hot chocolate, but the warmth that spreads through your body is from conrad’s gesture more than anything.

conrad nods and points up at the stars. “find anything good?”

you launch into a detailed explanation of what constellations you’ve found so far — and, when that’s over, you continue making up stories like you’re david attenborough narrating a nature documentary. sure, it’s ridiculous to use a very serious british accent to suggest that king kong and godzilla are immortalised in the night sky, but it makes conrad chuckle, and you decide that’s worth all the stars in the universe.

in between stories, conrad asks: "are you cold?" 

conrad already knows the answer, because he passes you a light jacket without you saying a word. you shrug it on, and practically sink into the familiar fabric.

"so you're the one who had my varsity jacket," you realize. it smells like him now: lemon and sandalwood. 

conrad smiles sheepishly and shrugs. "it's a good jacket — what was i supposed to do, not wear it? you left it last summer."

last summer. 

the words hang heavy between you. 

 “y/n —”

“con —”

you both stop, waiting for the other to continue. there have been enough moments this summer where you’ve cut your heart open and conrad just watched you bleed. a part of you wanted him to do the same, even though you know how much it hurts. 

“why did you come back that night?” he asks. conrad is usually confident, sturdy, reliable; right now, though, he’s the most timid you’ve ever seen him.

“i needed to.”

“why?” he presses.

you bite the inside of your cheek, remembering yourself a year ago and all the pressure you felt, from your parents and coaches. you used to love swimming, and you realized too late how much competing took over your life. things weren’t perfect at home, either, but you were trying your best to guard that truth from your siblings. ironically, that was part of the reason you had distanced yourself from conrad in the months prior: you knew he would worry, and you didn't want to burden him.

you tell bits and pieces of this to conrad, cutting yourself open once more.

“i felt like i was drowning,” you admit. “i tried so hard to hide it —  just keep swimming, right? but it got to be too much. so last summer, when i had a meet nearby, i just had to see you, because i knew that you were the one person in the world who would jump in and save me.”

“i didn’t know.” is all conrad says for a moment. you don’t add anything, because you find yourself in the same position as always: vulnerable, pouring your heart out.

“what you said on the fourth — you were right,” conrad sighs. “when you came last summer, i was already mad at you for not coming back to cousins for so long, and then you were leaving again and i was hurt. and - it’s fucked up, but i wanted to hurt you, too.”

“mission accomplished,” you laugh sadly.

“i shouldn’t have said what i said that morning last summer, and i shouldn’t have ignored you after.”

“you shouldn’t have ignored me this summer, either” you add. you can’t help calling him out for his shitty behaviour lately as well.

“hey, you ignored me, too,” he points out. “and, yeah, maybe i deserved it. there’s just a lot going on and….” conrad trails off, his gaze fixed on something in the distance, where a sliver of golden sunlight peeks through the horizon. you and conrad must have been talking for hours because morning is now just around the corner. “i know i was a jerk. just please know how sorry i am — for everything.” 

you’re about to say something, but you can’t seem to find the right words. i'm sorry too didn't feel like enough. instead, you reach out and grab conrad’s hand. it’s cold in yours, but you don’t care.

“i can’t lose you,” conrad whispers, almost choking on the words. he squeezes your hand. “i can’t lose you, too.”

“i’m here, connie,” you whisper back. with your other hand, you brush some hair out of his eyes before using your thumb to wipe a stray tear from his cheek.  “and i’m really glad you’re here, too.”

throughout the entire conversation, you and conrad had moved closer together — now, your shoulders are touching and your left leg is bent over his right one. 

“did you mean what you said on the fourth?” conrad asks, his eyes searching yours. “do you regret that night?”

“i’m guessing you mean the us-having-sex part?” you reply, a gentle smirk on your face. 

conrad nods. he’s blinking faster than usual, and you can tell he’s anxious to hear your answer.

“if it ruined things between us, then i would,” you admit. you realize then that your hand is still on his cheek; you remove it, but keep the other intertwined with his. “tell me it didn’t ruin things between us, and maybe i’ll change my mind. i mean, do you regret it?”

conrad smiles at you, his shoulders relaxing. “no. that’s one thing i don’t think i’ll ever regret. that’s another thing you were right about — that night meant something to me. it meant everything.”

your heart skips a beat at the way he looks at you, tenderly, waiting for you to say something.

"yeah, me too. or, me neither. i mean, i’m sorry -” now, it’s your turn to stumble over your words, nerves getting the better of you - you take a deep breath to calm yourself. “i’m sorry for not being here; i’m sorry for hurting you; and i’m sorry for making you feel like i didn’t care, because that’s further from the truth.”

“i appreciate it,” conrad replies sincerely. “but i think we’ve apologized to each other enough for one night.”

you laugh. “yeah, i guess you’re right about that one. have any alternatives, fisher?”

conrad reaches up to caress your cheek, a gentle gesture that contrasts the mischievous smirk on his face. his eyes fall to your lips, then back to yours. “i can think of a few —”

you kiss him before he finishes his sentence.

maybe you'd never shared an underwater kiss, but kissing conrad feels as dynamic and unpredictable as the ocean. 

when you kissed last summer, it was like a wave breaking onto the shore: the built up anticipation finally coming to fruition. 

earlier this summer, at nicole’s party, kissing him felt dangerous, like swimming out into the turbulent water and realizing you’re in too deep. 

right now, his lips on yours feel like floating in water on a warm summer day. 

conrad slips his hand underneath your jacket, and you shiver when he touches your bare skin, right under the band of your bikini top where your tattoo is. you shift ever so slightly and suddenly you're tangled in his lap, feeling him strong and sturdy beneath you. one of your hands is on his thigh, while the other tangles into his hair. you tug the strands just the way you remember him liking it; he groans and kisses you with more intensity, a calm sea gradually becoming more rough.

once you’ve run out of air, you pull apart ever-so-slightly, appreciating his swollen lips, pink cheeks, and tousled hair in the early morning sunlight. you could do this for hours — drowning in him — and you're about to do it again, too, before you’re shocked back into reality.

“i knew it!” you hear your sister yell in the distance. she then adds something about your brother owing her ten dollars. you make a mental note to get them back later for betting on your love life. 

conrad laughs against your lips, then pulls away. you get up and offer him your hand, which he accepts with a smile. 

“you might wanna…” you gesture towards his messy hair, and he blushes even more despite how much he enjoyed it earlier. 

“right.” he clears his throat, runs a hand through his hair to tame it. 

“i’m gonna go get started on breakfast,” you say before walking a few steps closer to the campsite. 

you turn back around to conrad, who was frozen in place, looking at you carefully. his posture is stiffer than before, and it takes you a second to realize why: he’d been here before. he’d watched you leave one too many times.

not this time, though. this time, you reach out your hand — a peace offering, a promise. 

summer will end soon, and maybe you aren’t quite sure what the future holds once it does.

“so, are you coming with me or not?” 

but you do know this: when you get back to the beach house, you’ll go surfing with the fisher boys, watch movies and eat sour candy with belly, play video games with steven and jere. you’ll sneak out to meet conrad, then watch the sunrise together. the five of you will have bonfires on the beach, maybe even inviting your siblings and their friends, and roast marshmallows. susannah will host another pool party and you’ll feel conrad’s arm wrapped around your waist; he’ll kiss your cheek, sitting on the edge of the pool, and you'll jump in the water, bringing him under with you, before kissing him back. 

you'll spend one particular night in conrad's bedroom, hands and lips all over each other, trying to keep quiet, and when you search his drawers for a condom, you'll find the same necklace that you, jeremiah, steven, and belly were gifted. it holds faded clay beads painted with various symbols - a turquoise trident, a crashing wave, a rainbow, a starfish. you'll think back to how the tradition started at belly's percy jackson themed birthday, when you and conrad were 11, and susannah would give one to each of you at the end of each summer. there will be a sharp pain in your heart when you notice that some beads are missing, the years don't add up, but you'll realize, prompted by conrad's deep voice calling you back to bed, that you might be able to make up for lost time.

you'll soak up as much sunshine as you can. you’ll squeeze out every ounce of summer, and then some. you'll dust off old traditions, and make some new ones, too. you'll fill those necklaces with more clay beads.

and you'll always - always - come back home.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Forget the horror here.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Words count: 1445

Rating: Mature (but there’s only allusions to smut this time)

Warnings/Tags: Javi’s POV for Poison and Wine, Internal conflict, sad thoughts, mention of Javi’s work, sweet Javi, bad at feeling Javi, love bites my friends, sad ending.

A/N: Poison and Wine can be found here, I promised a second part from Javi’s pov and here we are. I hope you’ll like this.

Titles comes from one of the most beautiful gut wrenching song I’ve ever listen, Spanish Sahara by Foals.

You are the easiest thing I deal with during the day. A relief, a safe haven to return to.

When I approached you for the first time I did it almost without thinking.

It had been a terrible day, I had lost half of my men in an ambush and that piece of shit had managed to escape again. The drug lord, may the devil take him.

I had entered the bar with an unbearable weight on my shoulders. I should be used to it but I'm afraid I never will. How could I get used to seeing death and destruction all around all day.  

You were at the counter, you were wearing a dress that slid down your hips in an absolutely crazy way, you were breathtaking.

You were laughing, talking to the bartender.

I had nothing to lose, I ordered a tequila and spoke to you.

We chatted for a while, you seemed so spontaneous, confident, funny.

And you were beautiful, you have eyes that could stop time.

I felt almost clumsy in front of you.

Like a young boy.

A really weird feeling for someone like me, I usually just take what I want.

I've paid for sex several times, I'm certainly not a saint.

I'm not even a total asshole, so I tried to treat you with respect.

I'm sure you knew exactly what I was looking for so I didn't look for excuses, it would have seemed to me to offend your intelligence.

You are a smart, proud, free and independent woman. Fierce and incredibly charming. You smell like sugar and taste like heaven.

I figured it all out that night and it hit me hard.  

That's how it started.

I was convinced that it could be a loophole, a distraction.

 I ask you to see me to shake off the images of devastation that I have to face every day.

It's easy not to think of anything else being with you.

A glance is enough for you to understand what I need.

I would never tell you about my job, I can't and in any case it wouldn't be fair.

That's not what I want to do with you.

I don't want to talk.

I don't want to analyze anything.

I just want to let go and forget the rest.

There’s too much pressure on me and I feel liberated with you.

I always try to be cautious and watch my back for my own safety but most of all because I would never want to put you in danger. You have always lived here so you know well what the situation is like in your country. You are certainly not clueless and you have your own problems to take care of, you don't need mine.

I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.

I leave you in the dark about this but I hope you have understood it.

You did, right?

 Sometimes I think you're too much for me, I don't deserve you.

 You are disarming.

 The way you melt under my hands drives me nuts.

The way we have sex is amazing, every time.

 When I’m with you, I feel like I finally find peace.

Your skin is soft and warm, your neck so delicate, your lips turgid and delicious, your breasts beautifully designed to fill my hands, your legs toned and sensual, your sex wet and sweet under my tongue. 

And your eyes.

 Your eyes are so intense, deep, every time I stare at them I feel a fire burning inside.

I noticed how they try to discover me, to understand something more about me, some secret that I try to hide from myself too.

Every damn time I sink into you I feel like I've been pardoned by God or whoever for him.

 I don't know how else to describe it.

 We are in a shabby motel and you radiate beauty around even in a place like this.

 I fucked you right away, without a word, it was one of the usual horrible days and I wanted to leave it completely behind.

I know I'm not an easy man.

My bad temper gives some problems even at work sometimes.

 I wish I could be more serene, have a more stable life, be able to offer something more than sex.

 I wish I could take you to dinner in a nice restaurant, give you flowers, make you feel like I care.

I would like to take your hands and tell you that you are the best thing that has happened to me in years. 

I would like to tell you how much you are helping me. 

I don't even know how I can think of certain things when the situation makes them impossible.

I became a sentimental fool.

 Sometimes I feel like you want to ask for more and every time I hope you don’t.

I can't, you know I can't.

Should I put up with seeing the same look on Connie's face as she watches Steve leave without knowing if he'll return?

Yes, I am a coward when it comes to this, my courage is all absorbed in work, even though I often feel like it's all for nothing.

I run from one side of the city to the other in an attempt to achieve something, to at least partially solve the chaos, the fear, the guerrillas. 

Every small victory pales into insignificance in the face of another death.

This place has a lot of hidden secrets, I can't imagine them all.

If I succeed in eliminating a small part of its evil, I know that there is still so much that it wouldn't take two lives to defeat it completely.

I feel like I will never be able to hold anything in my hands, like I will never get close to the end.

 I only feel some kind of comfort when I'm inside you.

I've been with a lot of women but none has ever made me feel like you do.

I can't tell you that.

I can't risk it all.

I can't let you walk into my life any more than I already have.

What if I let myself be totally vulnerable? What if you lost me? What if I lost you?

I closed my eyes to make you think I was sleeping.

You were watching me, I could feel your eyes on me.

 You looked away so I wouldn’t notice, but I know.

Damn it.

Please don't do that.

It crushes me.

I'm quickly getting attached to you and I feel it's the same for you.

I have to back off.

 I have to be able to leave you out of all the crap that grips me.

From the horror that haunts me.

Your eyes are fixed on a point on the wall, seemingly careless. 

I still feel your warmth, the taste of your skin, the sweetness of your body, your moans of pleasure.

You have a power over me that makes me restless, hungry, eager.

I reach out to stroke your arm and you give me a smile that hurts my soul.

God, you are so beautiful.

 I would like to start all over again.

I would like to grab your waist with my arm and draw you back to me.

I can't get enough. 

Every time I touch you, every time I kiss you, every time I hear your tongue dancing with mine, every time I bite your neck and feel your smile on my skin, every time I smell your fresh and flowery scent, every time I sense you tremble with pleasure, every time I hear you scream my name I hope it never ends.

I get up without saying anything.

It's time for me to leave.

I take my clothes from the chair, while I hate myself.

My fucking stubbornness, my fear of getting close to anyone for fear of hurting them, my obstinacy in living a lonely life.

I hate all this.

I have to live with it but it hurts like fucking hell.

I get dressed feeling like a bastard.

I just wish everything was different, easier, I wish I could have you every day.

I’m the fury in your bed.

One day I'll just be a ghost in the back of your head.

Tagging @aurorawritestoescape and @thundermartini that were both so kind and encouraging and enjoyed the first part of it ♥️

Thank you so much 🥰

[neko-naruto]

confused and annoyed (it's all i find i think about)

summary: they may be unversed in the ways of romance, but they're sure as hell trying

tags: fluff, love confessions, they r dumbasses, shadow watches naruto

authors note: i blame the reinvigoration of my longtime sonic interest on @ohposhers go look at his art, it fucks severely. n e ways, title from a chemlab song, hope ya'll enjoy.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57788908

"You like him," Rouge sing songed as she trailed Shadow through the halls.

"Shut up," Shadow answered with, ears flattening to his head as he spoke.

Rouge just laughed to herself, "Alright, I can leave you be."

Shadow waved her off, "Yeah, sure, go ahead."

"Oh? I've really hit a pressure point this time." There's almost a cackle in the way Rouge laughs, a threat on her saccharine smirk.

"Nuh uh!"

"Yeah huh."

She's off before Shadow can swivel around to stop her from leaving, unable to swear her to silence on the matter. Sure, he knows that their trust runs too deep for her to just gossip the topic without any finesse. But something in the pit of his stomach says otherwise.

She's so gonna snitch on him for having a dumb heart, isn't she?

-/-/-/-

"No? Really?" Sonic asked eagerly, leaning in to be closer to his friend.

Knuckles gave a huff, "What about it?"

"Him though? Of all Mobians?" Sonic doubled down with.

"Like you're any better."

Sonic shrugged, "I can't give you any advice if you want Shadow thee Hedgehog, Ultimate Lifeform, mega full of himself-"

"He's not though," Knuckles said, just quiet enough that Sonic would barely hear, "Once you get to know him he's pretty nice."

Sonic's ears flicked back as Knuckles spoke, "Ohhhh, so you're really close with him. I see how it is."

"Get your head out of the gutter, Sonic!" Knuckles snapped back, red painting his muzzle at the notions.

"Sure thang, Knux! But really though, I gotta skedaddle," Sonic said.

"Don't you dare tell anyone!"

Sonic's already darting off at a considerably slower pace than usual as Knuckles speaks, to make sure he hears maybe. Knuckles doesn't bother chasing after him, he's too fast to effectively catch up in time before he's off on a mission or chatting with someone else. He better not fucking gossip about this with anyone else.

Would he…?

Knuckles shakes the thought from his head and grabs a new focus; find Tails for a ride back up to Angel Island.

-/-/-/-

Shadow doesn't sleep that night.

Instead he ruminates.

He watches his dumb ninja anime that Tails said he'd probably enjoy, something about losing everything they love for vengeance and struggling to be seen as more than a monster. He'd made it in about, oh, thirty episodes? Around thirty episodes before he started feeling feels about it.

Naw man he fucking gets it. He'll have to ask the kid for more recommendations.

He heads out to the kitchenette to grab some more snacks because he ran out and he's thirsty. He finds Rouge leaned on the counter sipping a cup of coffee, decaf he presumes, she raises a brow as she stares at him.

"Hi, Rouge," Shadow begins as he reaches for a cupboard to grab a packet of microwave popcorn.

"Turn down your tv, if I have to hear that 'of the sand' guy screech one more time I'm gonna lose my mind," Rouge said bluntly.

Shadow cringes a bit at being caught up so late watching anime. He flicks on the tap to get some water, "Sorry."

"I thought you'd be up blasting your favorite emo bands if I'm being real."

"They're not emo-"

"I know, I'm just fuckin' with ya. I didn't expect you to be over it so soon though."

"Over what?"

"Me making off like I was gonna gossip about your big fat crush on Knuckles."

"You did, didn't you?" Shadow just sighed, word would come out sooner, and it's too late in the night to effectively track them down. Also, he wants to get back to watching his show.

"Uh, no? Nobody was bartering me any gems for the intel," Rouge answered with, "C'mon, how much of a bitch do you take me for?"

Shadow shrugged.

"I did get something for you though."

"You did?"

"Ice cream."

"Ice cream…?"

Rouge placed down her mug to swing open the freezer, "Yep! Wasn't sure how broody you'd be, it's your favourite flavour- Tiger Tail."

"Thanks," Shadow said quietly, sliding his popcorn into the microwave.

"I got you one other thing too," Rouge said, there's that sly grin on her face.

Shadow raises a cautious brow, "What did you get…?"

"A bunch of grapes! They're Knuckles favourite, hand 'em over when you confess!"

"Confess? I just realized it was a crush, Rouge."

"Oh I know, but it's good to have a plan!"

-/-/-/-

Knuckles spends the following days not exactly terraforming his island, but definitely doing some terrain work. Mostly punching trees, invasive species he'd imagine. But really, he just needs to blow off some steam.

Is steam the right word?

He's just working through the motions.

Chaos, why is everything so hard to make sense of? Is it love? Is it friendship? Or does he just really adore Shadow, because who wouldn't? He's so cool, he can't blame himself for feeling so messed up over all of this.

But he does.

His paws hurt when he watches the wood of a pine tree splinter and crumble under the force behind each movement. Swift and forceful. Each time he launches his fist at the wood he wonders how long it'll take before he starts to tear away like that. Just fall apart and collapse like it's doing right now.

With a loud crash it hits the dirt and he's panting as he falls back onto the dirt, staring up at the clouds.

He needs to head back to the emerald.

-/-/-/-

Shadow is waiting for him, just sitting against the stand that the gemstone is propped on. Knuckles sits down near him, not quite next to him, but close enough to count.

Neither of them speak for a long time.

Neither of them want to speak- the silence is like a second home.

Eventually Shadow 'breaks' the silence, shatters the stillness, he holds out a hand. Not a lot, not actively reaching for Knuckles. But his paw rests at the mid point between the both of them, palm down on the pseudo-concrete.

Knuckles doesn't move right away, didn't expect either of them to move. He expected this to be another sit down on the island and stare at the sky for hours before Shadow wordlessly leaves kind of thing. He still tentatively reaches out to meet Shadow's paw with his own.

Again, the stillness stagnates like that of a pond. Beautiful things can propagate in stillness and quiet, Knuckles doubts this'll be an example in the same way the lotus flower is an example.

He doesn't speak, neither does Shadow.

He's more focused on the contact, paw to paw. Covered by a glove, but still sparking like electric currents.

Clouds drift, the sun starts to fade. It's nice. It's quiet and tense and tender all at once but it's nice. Usually contact this close comes with sparring, which is another type of contact that they both enjoy.

"I like this," Shadow said, voice quiet. Somewhat out of fear that he'd ruin the moment if he spoke too loud.

Knuckles nodded, "Yeah."

"This whole love confession thing is dumb as balls," Shadow said bluntly, snatching away his hand only to hold his head in both with a groan.

"I couldn't agree more," Knuckles answered with.

"Can we just say that we both mutually like each other and call it a day? I don't have the capacity or experience to take you on a nice dinner date."

"Sounds good to me."

"Okay, okay great- that actually wasn't too bad."

"Speak for yourself, I was dying."

"Agreed."

"So, now that it's out in the open, wanna go spar?"

"Oh hell yeah."

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks

hi!! i'm back lol - well, the craziness at work is done and I'm slowly getting back to writing bc I haven't written in like a week and it's killing me lol (this is gonna sound dramatic but I literally don't feel like myself if I don't write for too long haha) I don't have anything new to share rn, but I figured since it's already december and since some of y'all are sharing Christmas fics, and knowing I likely won't write one this year, I'm gonna shamelessly plug my holiday fake dating fic with 4 Christmases and 6 Christmas chapters actually 😂 (Christmas was a very important time for Buck and Eddie's relationship in this lol) - there's obvi more holidays in this but anyway, here's a snippet of their first Christmas together also, it's been a year since I posted the first chapter and I'm feeling nostalgic lol, this fic is my baby and I love it so much (tho there's so many things I'd change now lol)

[read on Ao3]

___

Turns out, Buck is very much serious about the whole thing, and Christopher finds it hilarious and is eager to play along. Eddie doesn’t have valid arguments not to do it, and it’s not like he doesn’t want to. After another snide comment when talking to his parents, he made his decision. And he already felt this exciting feeling of satisfaction when he told them he’d be bringing someone for Christmas this year – miraculously, Buck and Eddie don’t work on Christmas, and they took an additional day off, so their schedules allow for a three-day trip to Texas. 

So now, it’s Christmas Eve and they’re on their way from the airport to Eddie’s childhood home, and he’s nervous, doubts just starting to seep in. What on earth possessed him to do this? He can’t lie to his family. He can’t pretend to be in love with Buck. What if he really does fall in love with him? What if everything goes to shit? He’s watched enough movies to know it’s a bad idea, but he couldn’t and still can’t bring himself to stop it.

“So.” Eddie says, his voice shaking slightly, as they sit in a cab. “We’re doing this.”

“Yep.” he can hear Buck grin next to him. “Unless you still wanna back out?” he adds quickly. They could still say Buck’s just a friend. No big deal. But Eddie does have this petty desire to stir something up, and this seems perfect. 

“No. It’ll be fine.” he smiles at Buck, and then feels hot when Buck grabs his hand and interlaces their fingers, winking at him. Christopher laughs.

“You’d make a great couple.” he comments. He’s been unusually happy about all of this. He also asked Eddie a few days ago if Eddie loves Buck, which prompted a conversation, but he thinks Chris knows what’s going on now. Eddie doesn’t really know what to think about that.

“Thanks, buddy.” Buck responds excitedly, squeezing Eddie’s hand, and he can’t contain a smile. If not anything else, at least all three of them are going to have a lot of fun.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1

[lonelychicago]

tagged for fuck it friday by the lovelies @spotsandsocks @eddiebabygirldiaz @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @malewifediaz @wildlife4life @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @thewolvesof1998

here's a lil something from the marriage of convenience fic <333 since it's@monsterrae1's bday and this fic is for her, i thought it would be fitting to share a snippet from it. 🥰

(also this kinda sucks so pls be nice)

"What about Chris?" Buck rasps out, even if he knows he'll end up saying yes anyway. "What does he think about all of this? Is he even—?"

"He's on board." Eddie cuts him off, his cheeks tinting a darker shade of pink. "He might have been a bit confused at first and he wasn't excited out of his mind exactly… but he's on board. He said he always wanted to be a big brother and if that means you'll be living with us full time then he doesn't see the downside." Eddie smiles, soft and gentle.

"He won't help change diapers, though, and I have to buy him some new headphones so he won't listen to the baby cry all the time." He adds, amused.

Buck can't help but to huff out a weak chuckle at that.

"You've really put a lot of thought into this, huh?"

"I have." Eddie raises his chin almost defiantly. "How would this even work? If we get married? What will happen if you wanna date or if you wanna bring someone home, or if—?"

"I haven't dated anyone in almost a year, Buck. And honestly? I don't have any interest in doing so." Eddie clears his throat and looks down, a small crease forming between his brows as he crosses his arms against his chest defensively. "I'm done trying to force these relationships with women I don't really care for. It's not fair to them and I'm really tired, so… Yeah. You don't have to worry about me."

"You say that now…" "And I mean it." Eddie's gaze locks with his and there's a fire in his eyes, his jaw stubbornly set. "I'm done dating. I wanna marry you, I—" He clears his throat and hesitates a bit at this but then continues like that flicker of doubt never happened. "It's purely platonic. I just wanna help you get Luna, be able to take care of her like I know you want to. I can do this, Buck. Let me do this for you."

"Okay." Buck whispers finally, after a few seconds of silence. His heart is beating hard in his chest and he staggers forward, stepping closer to Eddie as he feels his legs wobble and his knees go weak with how much he wants this, how much he aches for Eddie right in this moment. "Okay." He repeats, a little bit louder, but his voice shakes and trembles embarrassingly so.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Buck lets out an almost hysterical laugh, full of disbelief and awe. "Yeah, I'll marry you."

tagging (no pressure): @rainbow-nerdss @bigfootsmom @buddierights @watchyourbuck @eowon @devirnis @tails89 @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @rogerzsteven @prettyboybuckley @giddyupbuck @athenagranted @maygrantgf @housewifebuck @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @exhuastedpigeon @jeeyuns and anyone else who wants to share something <333

[dre6ming]

The delicate beginning rush

Chapter XVI - Family dinner

The delicate beginning rush- Masterlist

Imagines Masterlist- TDBR short stories

Masterlist

Instagram photo dump masterlist

Add yourself to the tag list HERE

Pairing: Austin Butler x singer/actress fem reader

Warning: age gap (10 years), smut (18+ minors dni), fingering, hand job, fluff

Plot: Back from the hospital you take time to discuss your relationship with Austin, with your best friends. And after he comes over for dinner, the two of you have some alone fun in the car.

Word count:

Disclaimer: everything fake

"Come on sœur, wake up, we're home. Want Matt to carry you up?" Timmy asks whispering, as I rise from the depths of my sleep. With a shake of my head, I deny being carried up, so he helps me out of the car and all the way to the elevator, letting me put my weight on him. My legs still feel a bit tingly, having not walked for a few days. As the elevator doors close, I sigh, happy to be so close to being back home. "You ok?" Timothee asks, taking my sigh of relief as one of pain or discomfort. "Yes, just relieved to be back home." I smile, hugging closer to him, my head resting on his shoulder.

All the silence between us is killing me and I'd like if he were the first to break it, since I don't really know what to say. I still feel very guilty about hiding my relationship with Austin, but I was so scared of his reaction and though, in the back of my mind I know that his reaction to it, was mainly influenced by the way he found out, it still doesn't ease my nerves. "Are you still mad at me?" I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper, half praying that I spoke low enough for him not to hear, what I said. He did hear me, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. My heart is pounding in my ears, anxious with his answer. "No, (y/n) I was never mad at you, just worried. I-" he pauses, "I just am very protective of you, you must understand, he's much too old for you and I know he's your first boyfriend." I open my mouth to remind him of Joshua, but he stops me.

"Joshua doesn't count, I don't know what your intentions were with that boy. Anyway, I just want you to be careful. My reaction was exactly how it was supposed to be, I found out you were in a relationship with a man 10 years older than you, who had a girlfriend no less." My eyes bulge out at the past tense on that statement, Austin told me he was going to end the whole PR relationship, but I guess, even with all my trust in him, I thought he wasn't going to do it. "Had?" The question rolls off of my tongue, before I can stop it. Timothee looks at me a bit confused, with a brow raised. "Yeah, she's in a relationship with a new guy, the gossip pages, say the break up is official. Even with all this, I still need a minute to warm up to him. I guess when you feel better you can ask him to come over for movie night." He says the last part quietly, blushing, making me smile, my heart now resting in my chest, one pressure off of my shoulders.

I don't get to say anything else, the elevator doors opening, bringing into view, my missed apartment. "You're home!" Roxanne says, coming into view and giving me a tight hug. "Yeah, how are Simba and William." I ask, as Timmy helps me to the living room, after taking my shoes off. "Good, Simba is on the couch, William has barely left your room, that cat knew this was not a business trip." She giggles, sitting down on the couch, taking the white and grey cat in her lap, stroking it's fur. I wince in discomfort when my laughter turns into a small cough that dies down, fast enough.

"How are you feeling?" Timothee asks, helping me walk over to the couch. Roxanne, who's been watching my cats, sits opposite from me, looking rather angry. "I'm good, a bit sore, but good. Roxi, are you mad at me?" I ask looking her up and down, trying to read her, but she's stoic and doesn't let any emotions show. A grimace ghosts over her face, before her freckled cheeks go back to a poker face. "No." I can see she wants to say more, her eyes oscillating between me and Timothee, as if he's the reason why she won't say what's on her mind.

Timmy, perceptive as always, excuses himself from the living room, saying he has to make a quick phone call. As soon as his figure is out of sight, Roxanne jumps from her spot, over to me, grabbing my face in her hands. "How could you not tell me, you scored so good, girl no wonder you left Joshua, I mean, yeah he was cute and sweet and all, but come on he's no Austin Butler. Now tell me, is he a good kisser? Is he sweet? Is he romantic? Does he treat you right? Did you stay with him in Cannes? Oh shit, did you sleep with him? Is he good in bed? I bet he gives good oral, he looks like he can eat pussy well..." her rant is quite amusing, but her questions become too personal way too soon and Timothee is just down the hall, in the kitchen, I can hear him speak softly on the phone so I can only imagine, he's heard most, if not all questions Roxy had.

She's talking too fast for me to respond, so all I can do is sit there and blush a darker shade with each question that rolls off of her tongue. "Oh my god! He did eat you out, didn't he? Tell me was it great? Was it phenomenal?" She asks. I scoff and take her hands off of my face, to back away just a few inches, since she's all up in my face. "Can we not? The last thing I want is to talk about that with Timmy here." I tell her, annoyed that she didn't think about that.

"Yeah and I really don't need to hear the words 'eat pussy' out of your mouth Roxanne" Timmy scolds her, coming in with a huge bowl of popcorn in hand. I gasp, terrified that he actually heard our talk and Roxanne sticks her tongue out at him, grabbing the bowl out of his hand and shoving some popcorn into her mouth. "Oh sweet lord." I mumble under my breath as he comes to sit next to me. He pushes the bowl of popcorn towards me, encouraging me to eat some, which I do, feeling quite hungry. "I ordered pizza, should be here soon." Timmy reads my mind. "Great, I'm starving."

"Is he a good cook? Austin I mean, I saw him talking about it, he said it's his hobby." Roxy pops her head, from behind Timmy. "Roxanne, I-." My eyes move between Timmy and her and she scolds, pouting like a little child. "Can we kick him out?" She asks, making me snort, as Timmy feigns hurt, placing a hand over his heart. "Oh don't act surprised, she won't do girl talk if you're here." Roxanne tells him and before things escalate I talk. "You can sleep in my room tonight, we'll talk then, let's not give Timmy an aneurysm right now." Her face lights up with excitement and I see Timmy visibly relax, now that he won't have to hear any more questions about the turns and twists of mine and Austin's relationship.

"Thank you!" Timmy whispers, before we all turn our attention back to the tv. It's times like this when I'm with the family I choose that I feel at home. So I lean my head on his shoulder and Roxy moves over to sit next to me, cuddling tight to me.

𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬

"Come on guys, let's get you to bed, you fell asleep" Timothee shakes me and Roxy awake, taking the warm blanket off of us. We both groan in disagreement, being way too comfy and warm, right here under the blankets. "I thought you guys wanted to gossip without me?" Timmy teases and just like a dog who's favorite toy just squeaked, Roxanne jumps up. "Come on now, come, I got lots of questions." She drags me off of the couch and into the direction of my bedroom, making both me and Timmy, laugh at her.

"Can I shower and put on my pjs?" I ask giggling at her silliness. "I guess." She huffs crossing her arms over her chest and plopping down on my bed. "But be quick, or else I'm coming after you." Roxy warns. I show her a thumbs up and make a mental note to be as quick as possible. I have to admit this bubbly feeling I have in the pit of my stomach is weird, but I'm actually excited to finally be able to share some of my happiness with one of my best friends. So I shower fast, drying myself off and putting on my silk pajamas, braiding my hair and applying some lotion to my dry skin.

When I enter my room again Roxy is on her phone, scrolling on TikTok, but as soon as she hears my footsteps, she lifts her head up and almost throws her phone off of the bed. "Come sit." She pats the spot next to her and I happily oblige. "Ok so what do you want to know?" I ask. "Everything, from beginning to present." Roxy bites her lip in excitement. "Ok. So... Soon after the gala, he texted me to see if I was feeling any better, you know I got sick. We kept talking and then I went out for coffee with him and Kaia. I asked them both to join me for dinner. He showed up alone with two bouquets of my favorite flowers. He ended up staying the night-"

"Did you sleep with him then?" She gasps, her eyes full of wonder. "No. He slept in the guest bedroom. The next morning, he cooked me breakfast, then we went out for a walk, you know we were photographed." Roxy nods her head and I breathe deep, going further with my story. "After that rude fan encounter, we came back to my place, we fell asleep on the couch. In the evening when we woke up he made grilled cheese sandwiches and he told me that his relationship with Kaia was just PR." I sigh, watching Roxanne's features for any judgment, but I find none.

"I don't know why he told me or what he was thinking back then-" she interrupts me quickly. "It sounds to me like all he wanted to do was be with you, if you ask me I thing he had a crush on you, before you had one on him." I blush playfully slapping her arm, which she rubs dramatically. "So then we had the Variety interview, when I tell you, that at one point, I was looking into his eyes and for a moment it felt like it was just me and him in that room, no one else. He asked me to come over at his house in LA, I was followed by some paps, got pretty scared. Somehow when I got to his place he just held me in his arms and we kissed. From then on we tried to steal every moment we could."

I tell her all about his visit to Canada, while I was filming, about all those small gestures that made me fall so hard for Austin , for his heart and soul. "So now in Cannes, you shared a room with him? Matt was ok with it?" She asks with a brow raised. "Matt has actually been pretty cool about it all, I actually think he's on Austin's side, keeps saying Austin brought me back to life or something." William my cat, comes up on the bed and curls in my lap, purring like a motor. "So you haven't slept with him yet?" I push my lips in a thin line, shaking my head. "No, we've done things, but we haven't had actual sex yet."

"Would you want to? Like do you feel like he's the one you want as your first?" She asks. "I think so, yes. I love him and I trust him. Rox he left the gorgeous model, daughter of Cindy Crawford, for me. I know it was PR, but still the move, could have hurt him in the public eye." I couldn't really express how much it means to me that he did all of that, I can't wait to speak to him. Like on cue my phone vibrates and I pick it up to see what it is, my face instantly lighting up at the sight of his name on the screen. "Is it him?" Roxanne asks, coming over to my side to look at my phone screen. There's actually a chain of messages, all sent over the time spawn of the 3 hours since I left the hospital.

Austin💜🧶

Did you get home safe baby?

I'm guessing you're sleeping

I hope you're ok

Call me when you can.

Ok I'm starting to get a bit worried, but I trust you're ok

Now I know I look like an idiot texting you nonstop, but I just need to know you're ok

I love you 💜🧶

"Holly shit, girl, my guy really loves you, 60 messages all about how he hopes you're ok? And that he loves you?" I blush a deep shade, looking at the 3 moving dots showing that he's preparing to write another message, but it never comes, the dots disappearing. I frown at the phone and I'm ready to text him, when the FaceTime call takes me by surprise and I answer immediately, by accident.

"Baby? Thank god, I was about to say, fuck it and drive all the way to your place." Austin says, visibly agitated, but slowly calming down, now that he knows I'm ok. "Oh well hello, you must be Roxanne." He says, pointing to the ginger girl looking at him from over my shoulder. She blushes, waving at him, somehow acting incredibly shy, which is quite out of character for her, but I guess that's the effect Austin has on people. "Yes, hi, you can actually call my Roxy, Roxanne is way too formal." She tells him.

"Noted, Roxy. Are you girls ok?" He asks. "Yes we watched a movie with Timmy and now we were just talking, I had my phone on silent. I'm sorry, for worrying you." I apologize, licking my lips nervously. "That's ok, I was over worrying, I'm glad you had a nice night. You feeling any better?" Austin, brushes his hair back. "Well I'm ok, all the talking Roxy's got me doing, is helping with my unused vocal cords." I say and Austin giggles. "Well I'm glad to hear."

"Hey, Butler, why don't you come for lunch tomorrow? We'd love to have you." There it is, the Roxy I know, the one who's never afraid to speak her mind or ask inappropriate questions. I side eye her, praying she'll start laughing, saying she was just joking. Austin looks quite taken back, scratching the back of his neck, looking at me, silently asking me what he should do, but I'm not sure what the answer here would be. "If you love her, as you say, you'll man up, come here and hold your own against Timmy and me. I'm more forgiving than he is, but I can mess you up real good if I want to. You must understand he's just being protective, hiding won't make him ease up to you, it'll just make him wonder why you're not declaring to him, all you say to her."

I'm amazed at Roxanne, her words aren't rude or inappropriate, but rather carefully chooses, like she's planed this speech for a while now. All she's saying makes sense and I see Austin, coming to the same realization. "You're right, we'll then if (y/n) is ok with me coming, I don't see why I wouldn't. I'll be there for you my darling." Austin declares, his blue eyes burning into mine. "Yeah, I'm ok with it, you can come." In all honesty I want him to come, am I scared of putting Timmy and him in the same room too soon? Yes. But nonetheless this will have to happen and I think that sooner is better than later. "I'd like you to come, but maybe dinner would be better, that way I have a few more hours to prepare Tim for it, I'm sure it'll go great, but just.."

"I get it, darling, I'll be there at 6 pm, is that good?" Austin asks, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, he looks tired. "You look tired baby." I say, bringing my knees up to my chest and resting my chin on top. "I'm ok, I'm going to sleep after we talk." I can tell that he's only telling me half the truth. "Ok, then catch some sleep, I still have some more beans to spill to my best friend." I laugh as I give Roxy a side hug. Austin giggles as well and smiles as she pokes her tongue out at him. "Ok then, I'll let you girls spill all the beans. But before I go, what's your favorite color Roxy?" I quirk a brow at him, intrigued by his interest in my best friend, but also sure he has a good reason for it. "Yellow...what are you up to Butler?" She asks squinting her eyes at him, but he simply shrugs his shoulders, smiling. "I'm going to see you tomorrow night girls, sleep well." Austin ends the call, leaving me a flustered mess and Roxy an overexcited bundle of joy.

"Let me show you something." I tell her, getting up from the bed, going over to my dresser, where in the top drawer I keep the blanket Austin is crocheting for me. "What's that it's cute, last we talked you were working on a sweater. Did you finish...?" I'm just waiting for her to figure it out and it seems like she's putting together the pieces. "Austin made it, with all of our busy schedules we unfortunately spend many days apart, so he makes a heart for each day, as you can see, five months is a long time." I put the blanket in her hands and she analyzes it. "That's so, wow, girl I don't, he's really serious about you, damn." She gasps. "I mean I'll still be on the lookout for him to misstep, but I can see why you wouldn't doubt him." Roxy folds the blanket neatly, setting on the bed next to her. She has no idea how wrong she is. "I have doubts, I love him and I'm sure he loves me too, but Roxy, I've seen toxic when it comes to relationships, so I'm scared shitless. I tried so hard not to love him, I dragged Joshua along to try and erase him from my mind, I'm surprised Joshua is still such a good friend to me, I was horrible to him. I just couldn't help falling for Austin, I can't help that I'm so happy it happened, but every day, I'm scared he'll wake up and realize I'm not what he wants, so he'll pick up and leave. I'm mad at myself because I want to be independent and not care about that, because I've promised myself that I'll never loose my mind over a boy."

"Come here!" Roxanne opens her arms and I rest into her chest, closing my eyes. "I'm going to be here no matter what and so is Timmy, we love you." She says, pulling the duvet over us and turning the light off.

𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬

As I wake up, feeling finally rested for the first time in what feels like forever, I go to the bathroom and do my routine, picking a simple outfit, for the day. "Morning sunshine!" I sing waking Roxy up, so she can go and do her thing in the bathroom as well. "Morning" she groans, turning on her side and covering her face with the pillow. Laughing I pull the pillow off her face and go over to the window, opening the blinds and letting the July sun shine in. "Ok you evil angel I'm up, I'm up." She says, squinting her eyes at the bright light. "I'm going to the kitchen." I tell her, walking out of the room, hearing only another annoyed grunt from her.

My cats are already in the kitchen, nibbling on their food, that Timmy has put out for them. "Coffee?" He asks , pushing a cup my way. "Thanks." He doesn't look angry today, he actually looks very calm, sipping his coffee and reading the news on his phone. I want to tell him about our dinner plans, but the fact already has me sweating and taping my fingers against the cup. The sound of my nails against the hard ceramic gets his attention. "Everything ok? You feel sick?" Timmy asks, putting down his phone and looking me up and down.

I shake my head, breathing deeply, as he's face goes from concerned to confused. "So last night Austin called" I start, unsure if I should keep talking or not, he's poker face is just too good. "And?" Timmy pushes, obviously curious. "And Roxy asked him to come for dinner." He sighs, brushing a hand through his messy curls. My pulse is through the roof and I wipe my sweaty palms on my leggings, chewing on my lips. "Ok, listen, I told you, I don't hate him, I just want you to be treated right, if he does that, he might end up being one of my favorite people in the world." I don't know why it surprises me that he's saying that, it's Timothee, one of the most heartfelt people I know. "(Y/n)?"

I realize I was stuck with my mouth agape, so I shake back into reality. "Sorry, guess I was expecting something else" I explain blinking fast. "Come here sœur." He waves me over to him and I happily oblige, hugging him tight. "So what are we feeding Butler?" Timmy ask, making me giggle as we break apart our hug. "I'm thinking I should cook, make one of mom's veggie casseroles? The one with green beans and chicken, I haven't had it in forever." I pour some cereal into a bowl and add my milk, putting it into the microwave to warm up, yeah I know, I like it warm, don't come for me. "Ok, but doesn't that mean you have to call your mom? For the recipe?" Timmy asks, pointing out the obvious. I take my breakfast out of the microwave and start eating the sugary cereal. "Eh yeah, I need to anyway, she's my mom, I can't hide from her." He takes a spoon from the drawer, coming over to sit next to me. "Ok, I'll be here, hm I still don't get why you like these, they taste like sweet wood shavings." He grimaces. "No one said you could eat any!" I say, dragging the bowl from under his nose. We both laugh, eating together my bowl of cereal, basically having a little spoon fight. "Hey you guys, what's all the fun about?" Roxy comes in, jumping up on the counter and picking an apple form the fruit basket. "Just the shitty tasteless cereal our friend here likes." Timmy says, putting the empty bowl in the dishwasher. Roxanne bites into her apple and crinkles her nose. "Yeah girl I don't get how you can eat that." She agrees

"And she's cooking dinner." Timothee tells her, handing her a cup of coffee, which she happily takes. "Well good thing I'm all stocked up on my probiotics." She jokes, as I shake my head in disbelief. "I like all the trust you guys have in me. But I've decided to be my best at cooking and I'll make the best meal ever." I tap my hands against the kitchen counter, smiling. "Now, I'll be in the study, talking to my mom." Both of their faces drop. "I'll be fine, I'm a big girl." I assure them, already heading in the direction of the study.

Looking out the big tall window, I sink in the huge leather chair, fiddling with my phone in my hand. Finally after what feels like forever I open the contacts app, calling my mom. I put the phone to my ear and listen to the agonizing ringing sound. Eventually the ringing stops and there's silence. "Hello!" My moms voice comes in and I suck in a deep breath, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest. "Mom, hi! So I was thinking to cook your chicken and green beans casserole for dinner, but I don't have the recipe." I wait patiently for her to respond. "Ok honey, get a pen and paper, it's not hard at all, I promise." I set the phone on speaker and put it down on the desk, picking a picking up a paper and a pen, writing down everything she's tells me. It's weird how something so simple and small like her telling me one of her recipes makes me so happy.

When she's done, I'm anxious she'll end the call, but she doesn't. "I heard your songs, I loved "dandelions" did you write it about anyone?" She asks. My cheeks burn with emotion. "Yes, he's name is Austin." I whisper, scared of her reaction. "Tell me more about him, is he making you laugh?" Tears gloss in my eyes, joy filling my heart. I don't know what happened, but it seems like my mom is taking a turn for making amends. "Well..."

For the next hour I tell her all about Austin and what I've been up to. I tell her about my upcoming album and movie. We make small talk and joke, it's like the good times we had, like I'm young again and all the dirt in my past never happened, but it did, only thing is that now I think we're trying to start the cleaning process. She tells me about therapy and how she gave it a try, because her hospital requires all staff to go to a few sessions a month. We end on a good note, with her promising to come over to visit and meet Austin.

𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬

The next few hours I spend in the kitchen with Timmy and Roxanne, working on the dish I chose for tonight's dinner. When we're done I take a long shower and get dressed in a champagne silk dress, putting my hair in a half up, half down style.

As I wait for Austin to come, I pace around the living room, checking the clock on the book shelf way too often, because it's been 5.58 pm for the last five time I checked. "Stop pacing, you'll burn a hole through the floor and we'll be having dinner with Glinda, your downstairs neighbor." Roxy chuckles, but the ding of the elevator gets my heart skipping and I almost slip and fall. "Whoa there, the only one whose life should be at risk tonight is Butler, sœur." Timothee jokes, catching me mid fall and I fix up my dress, looking at the opening doors, to see Austin walking through them.

"Good evening!" Austin rasps, he's wearing a dark blue shirt with black dress pants, simple yet he makes it look so sexy. He gives a bouquet of yellow roses to Roxanne, which she takes smiling, muttering a 'thank you' as she smells the flowers. "No need to be fancy we aren't the royals." Timmy jokes, extending a hand to shake with Austin. "Well I'm an overachiever. Here, this one is better served cold" Austin gives Timmy a bottle of wine, Timmy taking it and going straight to the kitchen to put the wine on ice. Lastly Austin turns to me, smiling with all his teeth showing and once again our eyes meet and it's like I forget where we are for a moment. "Hi my darling, for you!" Austin gives me the bouquet of purple star flowers. I ignore the flowers and jump straight to his neck, hugging him. "Aus!" I sigh, burying my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his delicious sent. "My sweet darling love." He whispers in my ear, running a comforting hand up and down my back. It feels so good to be in his arms, like my source of life just returned to me and I can breathe.

"Agh you guys look very cute, but I think it's best we don't force Timmy to kill unnecessarily" Roxy points out, making us laugh as we put some distance between each other. "Thank you." I say taking the flowers form him and walking to the kitchen to get two vases and put both bouquets in. Roxy takes Austin to the dining room and I hear the both of them talking, but I'm not sure what they're saying.

"Well he has good taste in wine and it seems like he's a true charmer." Timmy says, clicking his tongue. "I know, but you said-"

"I didn't say it's bad thing. I'm giving him a chance, starting fresh, ok? Let's go now!" He pats my back and we make our way to the dining room, where Austin and Roxy are sharing a laugh. "What are you guys laughing about? Hope it's not me." I say, placing a hand on Austin's shoulder and taking a seat next to him. "Of course it's about you she was just telling me about that time you started in a small broadway play as Bella from twilight." I gasp in embarrassment, looking at my mischievous friend. "You did not, I was 12!" I protest, throwing a crouton at her. "Hey no fighting with food at the table, that you did when you were 14" Timmy says, serving the food. "Traitor!" I say under my breath, squinting my eyes at him, making everyone laugh. "So is there any tapes of that? Cause I'd like to see it." Austin asks and knowing the answer, I wish I could shrink. "You bet your ass Butler, but I'm a good best friend, I'm keeping those for later." Roxanne says and I exhale relieved.

Austin takes some food on his fork and I watch him holding my breath, anxious for his reactions to the food. I look at him chew and swallow, tapping my foot against the floor. "Hmm this is so good!"

"Really?" I squeal, smiling form ear to ear, as he turns to look at me. "Did you make this?" He asks, taking another bite. "Yeah, I mean we all did, it's my mom's recipe." I explain, eating as well, surprising myself when I find that he wasn't kidding and the casserole does in fact taste good. "You talked to your mom?" Austin asks, placing a hand on my thigh, drawing circles over the silk material of my dress. "I did, I think we might patch things up, she's in therapy and I think she's finally doing the healing she needed. So am I." I tell him, putting my hand on top of his and squeezing it under the table. "I'm glad." Austin says, he's eyes being as honest as ever, it's obvious he's happy for me.

"So Austin, man I got to say, you did an amazing job with the movie, I watched it before (y/n) came back from Cannes." Timmy tells him and Austin humbly accept the praise. From there the conversation flows freely, and it feels like a dinner between a family. All the pressure is gone and everything feels so familiar and comfortable. We make jokes and laugh, then dessert comes along.

"Did you make the ice cream too?" Austin asks, eating a spoon full of vanilla ice cream. "No, I'm not that good of a cook." I laugh, drinking some wine.

𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬

"So I guess it went ok?" Austin asks, I decided to walk him down to his car, so we are now alone in the elevator. The few glasses of wine I had, made me definitely tipsy, but I feel so at home with him here. He's completely sober, still having to drive back to his hotel. "Yes it went more than ok, I think they like you." I say, hanging onto his neck. His hands move down over my ass, giving it a good squeeze, making me squeak in surprise. Austin chuckles and continues his way down my body, to the back of my thighs, lifting me up, placing my legs around his waist. Out faces are inches apart our breaths mixing. "(Y/n)" Austin whispers, his pillowy lips brushing mine, butterflies coming alive in the pit of my stomach. "Aus" I sigh, leaning my head forward, finally connecting our lips, the contact feeling electric.

Our lips move together and his tongue teasing my bottom lip. I open up for him, allowing his to take full control. His hands roam my body, gliding over the soft fabric of my dress. "Baby, I wish I could just put you in my car, drive you to my hotel and make love to you." Austin confesses, cupping my face in his hands and smoothing his thumbs over my cheeks. The declaration has me pushing my hips against him, feeling desire pool in my panties. "Please!" I whine, pulling on his shirt, bringing him back for a kiss, that lasts a minute too short, because of the elevator reaching it's final destination.

Carefully he puts me down and I whine I'm disagreement, intertwining my fingers with his, walking in the direction of his car, blood boiling in my veins. "How long before they think I kidnapped you and they come here to check?" Austin asks, opening the door to the back seat of his car, making me frown. "I don't know..why? Austin what are you up to?" I giggle as he pulls me into the back seat of his car. He lays me down on the car seat, coming to sit on top of me. "Aus!" I laugh tangling my hands in his sandy hair. Austin brings his head down kissing my neck, cutting my laugh short with a moan. He trails his kisses up to the shell of my ear, his hot breath tingling. "I'm going to make you cum on my fingers, then you're going back to your room and when I get to my hotel, I'm going to call you, you better answer, you hear me baby?" Austin asks, seeing as my mind is already gone. "Yeah, I do." I say breathless, feeling him smile against my skin. "Ok, be good for me, I love you!" He says, kissing me as one of his hands moves down my body.

Austin's hand reaches the hem of my dress, hiking it up my thighs. When he touches me through my panties he groans in pleasure, finding me already soaked through. "So wet for me, (y/n), always such a good girl!" He praises me, moving my panties to the side, sliding his fingers through my sleek lips. Austin grunts, moving his hips against mine and I feel him rock hard under his pants. We're both panting out of breath and he circles my clit slowly. I arch my back into him, as his lips find my pulse, sucking on the skin there. Moving my hands down I find his belt and unbuckle it. "Baby, you don't have to." Austin tells me, moving his hand down, circling my entrance, causing me to squeeze around nothing. "Let me please, I need to!" I whine and he nods, letting me go on as I unbutton his pants and undoing the zipper, putting my hand in his boxers. I take him in my hand, this is the first time I've touched him like this ever. The skin to skin contact is amazing and I'm fascinated by the way he seems to fit in my hand like he was made to be there. Austin moans loudly, pushing his hips into my hand as I start pumping him. "Fuck! Can I put a finger in?" Austin asks and I nod, whimpering with need.

His long finger enters me and it feels like everything is how it should be. We match our pace, making each other get to the peak we crave so much. I feel so close to ecstasy, the bubble in my belly ready to pop, with the way he curls his long digit, touching that spot inside me, that has me whirling for him. Austin's breathing is quicker and shallower than before, I also feel him twitch in my hand, so I move faster. "God, don't stop honey, I'm so close, fuck!" He grunts, using his thumb to stimulate my clit as well, pleasure flooding my senses as my orgasm washes over me like a cold shower, tingling from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. "I love you I love you Iloveyou ilove.." I say over and over again as Austin also reaches his orgasm, twitching in my hand, tensing above me and glueing his lips to mine. "I love you too!" He says against my lips, peppering kisses all over my face.

We try to make ourselves presentable, giggling in the process. Austin licks his fingers clean of my juices and I decide to play his game, licking the palm of my hand clean. "You're going to be the death of me!" He chuckles kissing me.

My heart feel content, full of joy and finally where it needs to be. We pull apart and he helps me out of the car, walking me back to the elevator. "Call me!" I say before the doors close. "Answer!" He challenges and then the doors close cutting my view of him, my reason for every good feeling I've had lately.

Tags: @galaxygirl453 @rainydayz101 @samaraannhan20 @marlowmode @myradiaz @areuirish @micaelainthe60s @homebodybirkin2003 @pennyroyalcreep @purejasmine  @strokesofstokes @lanasfloridakiloss @denised916 @kibumslatina @macey234 @melodixs-blog @shantellescrivener @chewiethecatus @guacala @fangirl125reader @father-of-2cats @lucid315 @melodixs-blog @ilovehobi101 @richardslady121 @jensmithin @julie181 @chrisevansgirl34 @ranaissingle @onecrazydirectioner @maria-1287 @austinbutlerssimp @kingdomforapony @acoolnight @tarot-sybarite @goldenmarygio @frozenhuntress67 @anonyboo63478338 @littlewhiterose @thefallofthedamned @1eminicookie @rose-deathman @iheqrtaustin @desitravelsblog @prompted-wordsmith @austinsvlrslut

[oleander-nin]

Hi again, I'm that same person that sent that long ask earlier lol

Okay ESPECIALLY after the poll you put up, I wanna say again that WE ALL LOVE YOU STOP BEATING YOURSELF UP /p

I'm stuck between wanting to be heartfelt and encouraging or just shaking you by the shoulders and scream at you /aff /pos

Ollie, genuinely, don't push yourself too hard. Yeah we love what you write, but we understand that you're a person with a life. You do not owe us anything.

Forgive me if I'm wrong, or maybe looking too far into this, but I feel like you're a perfectionist? And that you feel you have to crank things out quickly and it all has to be perfect. Maybe you feel somehow indebted to give us things to read. and lemme tell you, it's very easy to get stuck in a loop of "do the creative thing for your followers or else". That is, if you aren't in that loop already. I'm sorry, know I'm assuming a lot, and I'm not meaning to pry.

I just say this because I recognize the way you talk in your tags or authors notes. I'm not an author, but I used to post art. I kept getting more frustrated with myself, (and I can definitely tell you are too). I lost motivation, and it stopped being fun pretty quickly because I kept thinking "it needs to be perfect" or "I need to create faster" all for the sake of an audience. So when you apologize, or seem to value your writing so little, it just makes me worry that you're in that same loop. Heck, I mean, I still don't make art often, I still have perfectionist issues and worry about how fast I can create. But it's becoming fun again, slowly.

I just hope that writing is still something you like to do. I would hate for your passion for writing to be squandered by the pressure and expectations of an audience. I know you have a lot going on right now, even if you try and act like you should be able to push through it and write, but please take care of yourself. If the February challenge is getting too difficult, please don't feel like there's any shame in limiting your workload. We'll be happy with whatever you make, and I'll be even happier if I know you actually enjoyed writing it. /gen

WOW this is long I'm sorry lmao. I've been at this for like half an hour. (Do asks have a word limit? Oops I hope not ahshjsk)

Oh also, don't worry about responding to this is an "appropriate" way. I know that this would be hard for me to respond to, so don't feel pressured to say anything at all. Even if you delete this, I'll be perfectly fine with it. /gen I just hope you read it and understand that we care about you. Please feel better <3

YOU TOOK THIRTY MINUTES FROM YOUR DAY TO WRITE ME THIS???? THE HONOR???? SOBBING THANK YOU

Breaking this down paragraph by paragraph cuz you deserve it💪(also I'm avoiding responsibilities rn shhh)

Okay first of all, thank you a lot. This entire thing kinda helped me realized just how bad I was letting myself get. In the back of my mind, I know I don't have to write, or that I shouldn't be doing it the way I am, but it felt like an obligation at some point, both from trying to repay you all in the only way I know how, and from trying to catch up with everyone else. Sometimes it feels like I'm falling behind, and if I don't keep going, I'm just going to lose everything.

I forgive you<3/lhj, but you're not technically wrong. While I'm not in the perfectionist in the sense I won't post something unless I deem it perfect and have checked over 8 times(what I used to do), I still tend to pick apart everything I've made and found every flaw. I realize this is a problem, and have been yelled at by many a teachers for it lol. But yeah, a lot of the time I do feel indebted, and I probably am stuck in that loop(Which is why I'm so bad at actually taking breaks). Don't feel bad for assuming, nothing you could say would really offend me, and you've been dead on this whole time.

I've been meaning to stop talking about how much I hate certain parts of what I write in the tags+A/N's, because I know listening to me whine and cry about something that doesn't matter gets annoying, but I'm not good at that either I guess lol.

I'm fairly certain that writing will always be fun for me, as I'm still looking forwards to doing a lot of the requests I got and one set of ideas I have, but finding the will to write it down seems impossible right now. It's like I'm stuck at the bottom of a sheer cliff and I can't start writing until I read the top. The main reason I'm so mad at myself for flopping so bad with this challenge is because I was able to do the Horrortober one just fine, as well as maintain a schedule for a while. It feels like I'm getting worse rather than getting better, and It's just making me frustrated with myself to the point of just wanting to quit(not that I think I'd be able to if I'm honest. I tried once, yet here I am, only 3 years later.)

Anyways, I'm just going to start putting more time into the writing instead of trying to force a deadline. I want to be able to make longer fics again, and to start TWOAL back up(I've been avoiding it because I want the chapters to start being 4000+ to mimic actual books). I want my writing to seem like it has care and quality, and not like it was produced by a factory. I have once headcanon style fic about the Vamp turts in the work I was spending days on to make sure it was decent, and it alone is better than a lot of stuff I've put out recently.

ANYWAYS

Thank you! I appreciate your words, sorry for the vent. I'll probably just delete this half later lol, but I needed to get some stress out.

[danpuff-ao3]

Rarepair Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @cindle-writes!

Tagging: @writcraft, @perverse-idyll, @lizzy0305, @tackytigerfic, @sitp-recs, @consistentsquash, @mxlfoydraco, @wolfpants, @crazybutgood, @siriusly-sapphic, @stonedregulus, @broomsticks, @phoebe-delia, @nv-md, @ashesandhackles, @teacup-tai, @billsfangearring, @snapesnailtape, @fangqueen, @charlotterhea, and uhhh...anyone else who wants to play? And no pressure to the zillion people I tagged. It's just for funsies and I'm curious about what folks like! 😄

Rules: List the top rarepairs that you like outside of your OTP, and why you ship it! (Criteria for what makes a rarepair is up to your own discretion.)

My OTP is Snarry and I'm pretty sure most ships I like outside of Snarry are rarepairs haha! Let's seeeee...🤔

Harry/Scorpius

As I like to say: Snarry is my husband, and Scarry is the hot poolboy. I am a devoted wife, I swear, but sometimes...Well, sometimes a gal fantasizes about the poolboy, what can I say? 🤷‍♀️ I often struggle shipping Harry or Severus with other people, but Scarry feels less like a struggle and more like temptation. And while I find Young Severus ships easier to read (as I can imagine all roads lead to Snarry), I suppose Scarry can be enjoyed in the terrible universe in which Harry's actual soulmate was gone. (Not me vehemently defending myself for my guilty pleasure ship, noooo 😂)

Anyway, all that to say, I often wondered why I shipped Scarry myself. Why it's so much easier for me to enjoy than other Harry ships. Sure, it has the age gap thing going for it. And "son's best friend" going for it. And "son of my childhood rival" thing. Okay so yeah maybe it does make sense. 😂 What it lacks (in my imaginings) is all the fire I generally am drawn to, but ah well. It has enough else going in its favor. And really, what I'm only just now recognizing is that this sort of came together for me the same way Snarry did: my great love of the characters separately. I read the Cursed Child and fell in love with sweet cinnamon roll Scorpius. Which turned into...me being into Scarry!

Of course in my brain it happens one of two very specific ways 😂 Either Severus is...not there. For reasons. And Harry moves on with Scorpius one day. OR it's a one sided crush on Scorpius' end, which I am also hecka into. Who doesn't like a bit of unrequited love?? (At least, when their OTP isn't suffering for it.)

Draco/Sirius

I'M OBSESSED. WHY IS THERE NOT MORE OF THIS SHIP OUT THERE???? I CRY. Ahem. Anyway.

It's the age gap. It's the cousin incest. It's the "hooking up with my rival's godfather." It's the Gryffindor vs Slytherin of it. It's the Order and Death Eater of it. Also...they're both really pretty. 🤷‍♀️ Those good good Black genes, you know?

Also I just feel like...it can work. One of those things that might start off as sex and becomes really serious even though they both refuse to admit it for the longest time?

Sirius likes a challenge, I think, and Draco can provide one. And there's much more depth to Draco than I think Sirius might initially give him credit for. I see him as being a bit vain and a bit proud, but also insecure and vulnerable. He's sassy and bratty, and spoiled, but also with a lot of hurt and a lot of problems he himself might not be fully aware of. It's the complications and contradictions the Black family knows so well, and Sirius can understand Draco at that level better than most people, but also isn't so tied to family tradition that he can help pull Draco away from it. Sirius can shake up Draco's world a bit. Show him fun, silly things like bars and motorcycles and crappy Muggle flats. But also introduce him to freedom, and letting loose, and finding himself outside of that "Malfoy heir" identity, the way Sirius ran away from his "Black heir" identity.

I don't think Draco will pull away as much as Sirius did, and Sirius will understand enough to meet Draco where he is. And he knows the world Draco comes from enough to integrate into it when he needs to. And I think they'll find a lot of understanding and acceptance together, and learn a lot together, and explore a lot together, and be really chaotic and intense and messy together, and find so much joy and contentment together.

I have many Drarius feelings and I really need to write more of them one day.

Snape/Filch

Delphi sure SOLD me on this one, geez Louise. This is one of those I don't think is forever, but is meaningful and impactful to both parties. (It's gotta end Snarry, y'know? 👀) Love the age gap. And I love it best when it's student/caretaker. Maybe New Professor/caretaker, even. I love the idea of these two outcasts coming together and finding comfort together, and being able to appreciate each other in ways other people don't.

They both have their bitterness, and their sense of cruelty. They're both overlooked and unappreciated. Filch as the Squib looking after a magical castle full of magical people. The butt of many jokes. And Severus, the half-blood, the poor kid, the ugly kid. From a rough background, and surrounded by peers of much better circumstance. Targeted by the Marauders (who cause Filch enough trouble, too.)

It's fascinating to me, to see Filch, who doesn't seem to like much of anyone, being drawn to Snape. Sort of feeling a kindred spirit in some ways. A sense of camaraderie in the way Snape is seen, and treated, by others. Severus' broodiness and bitterness. But mostly sparked by some stunt pulled by the Marauders.

And Filch being the one to see how amazing Severus is. How intelligent and skilled, but looked over in favor of more handsome and charming and well-connected students. And I can see him being a bit torn between smug pride over how similar they are, and sharing that feeling of "yeah people don't see what I'm capable of, either" and then part of him growing to really care for Severus and wanting better for him and wanting others to actually see Severus the way Filch does. And Severus appreciating that, and feeling seen and safe with someone, at least to the extent that he can feel those things. (Wary as he is.) And really enjoying the affection he gets, and pleasure from their physical relationship. And maybe learning at least some small sense of self-worth and confidence in his own physicality.

One day I'm going to write the Snilch-turned-Snarry of my dreams and it's gonna be great, and in the meantime, a gal can dream.

Ginny/Gwenog

LISTEN. 2 lady athletes being hot together? Why not?? Of course with Gwenog being barely more than a mention, a lot of this is built on headcanon for her, but like...

Quidditch hero Gwenog. I like to headcanon her as a Slytherin (primarily due to a Snegurochka fic.) She's a Slug Club alum. She's a famous athlete. So I like to imagine her as a bit arrogant, and sure of herself. And maybe there initially being a "don't meet your heroes" moment between Gwenog and Ginny wherein Ginny very quickly loses her admiration of Gwenog because they meet at the wrong time (imagine they meet at some Slughorn event, haha.) But as Ginny loses interest in Gwenog, Gwenog's interest in Ginny is sparked.

Then one day they meet on the pitch, either as teammates or rivals. Either could be fun! And sort of coming together over their love of the sport and Ginny realizing there's more to Gwenog than first impression led her to believe. Also: there's at least some sorta age gap there, which you KNOW I love!

Also I love the idea of tabloids painting Ginny some type of way when she moves from a high profile relationship with Harry Potter: hero to a high profile relationship with Gwenog Jones: celebrity athlete. And maybe unfairly getting a reputation as a fame whore. And Ginny being super bitter about it because they don't understand!!!!

Anyway basically there's a lot of fun to be had.

Also I have weirdly specific feelings about tall Ginny. Just this tall pretty redhead athlete with short!Harry, and then moving onto her shorter butch girlfriend Gwen. Idk but really tall and more femme Ginny just does it for me. Like...she's like "I have long hair and I can pull off pretty dresses, but also I have the Bat Bogey Hex mastered, and I'll kick your ass on the pitch" and I respect that.

Hermione/Lavender

My newest obsession weirdly??? Even though I've read hardly any fics for it and there's no age gap to be seen. 🤨 Love me some Hermione/Fleur you know (my favorite Hermione ship still), and Hermione/Minerva and Hermione/Narcissa, but lately Hermione/Lavender is doing it for me on an almost opposites attract level?

This gives me a big impression of two people with the wrong idea of each other and having to face their own biases once they start to connect on some level. And then both being Ron's exes is hilarious. Bonus points for that. And imagine them as a longterm couple and they laugh years later over it. "Remember how we both dated the same guy? And we were jealous of each other? And now we're madly in love? Haha, life is funny."

Like, yeah, Hermione can be a bit bossy and fussy, and opinionated and judgmental in her own way. A bit self-righteous. Lavender isn't a very academic sort of person, but she's not dumb, and she's very brave. I like the idea of Lavender finding respect and admiration for Hermione only once she moves past Hermione being "very smart." And even Hermione sees so much of her value tied to her intelligence, and Lavender finding value literally everywhere else. How loyal Hermione is, how passionate she is, her love of travel and culture, etc.

And Hermione having to look past Lavender's "silliness" and face just how judgmental she is, and having to come to grips with yeah Lavender likes to gossip, and dress up, and she's very romantic, and she's interested in Divination, but there's also more to her than that. And that there is still value in things Lavender enjoys even if Hermione doesn't care for them herself, or even "believe" in them. And Hermione finding value in Lavender beyond how pretty she is, or how playful (especially postwar when Lavender maybe deals with heavy scarring and trauma and maybe heavy blows to her self-esteem.) And maybe being seen and recognized for better qualities even she maybe didn't think of herself as having, such as being quite brave and quite strong.

I dunno I just really want to explore them and all of the potential gives me many feelings.

[quotidian-oblivion]

Writing Positivity Tag!!!

Wasn't tagged, but again saw this game and loved it.

What do you take pride in with your own writing?

Hmmm... probably the plots. Because I really like the ideas and concepts I come up with. I mean, the Bruce Wayne writes fanfic au? I'm still blown away by it.

Did you have any big inspirations from another writeblr?  Who and how?

Ughhhhhh. I have so many. But the biggest ones? @cygnusdoesthings because of her, i'm still writing right now. Cuz the comments she put on My School’s Local Mafia Boss and then the recordings was what made me really, truly, well and fully realize that there were actual people who were saying all those stuff behind the comments. And also she has helped me a whole lot through so much.

@tristicorde cuz i go to her every time i feel low about my writing or about posting something and she always - always - knows the right things to say. Thats because the things she says are just facts. Not reassurances made up for the sole purpose of reassuring, but facts that reassure me. Also, her descriptive style of writing is something i strive to achieve 😭

@wakkoroni It's because of Vibes that I have as many crackfics as i do now (wips and posted). We have such a time and vibe just spouting out shitposts to each other in conversations, as well as incorrect quotes and hypotheses and hcs about the batfam, it is impossible to spend even 5 minutes with her and not get inspired to write or create something.

@sardonic-sprite because the first real fic i wrote (Ya Dun Fucked Up) was inspired by her Harbor. Her fics are the ultimate comfort, the ultimate hurt, the ultimate angst, the ultimate crack, and the ultimate family bonding. If you don't at least appreciate them, you don't appreciate anything.

That was a long answer. Anyways, moving on! (oh, special mention @uncertainwallflower cuz she helped me get past a very incredibly super-awful severe case of writer's block once)

What are you most proud of in your current WIP?

LMAO. WHICH WIP? 🤣

K the main one i'm focusing on rn is the tim gets kidnapped fic co-written with Vibey. And two things i'm most proud of in there are: a) how well mine and vibey's ideas just meld into each other b) the sheer amount of angst sprinkled throughout the fic. It's awesome. I love it.

What is your idea of a perfect day of writing?

Uhhh. I have chocolate milk or boba. I'm sitting at my desk instead of the beanbag cuz the desk is actually clear for once. I'm hyperfocusing as i write and don't notice the time pass by and don't have any pressuring due dates for school and everyone at home is sleeping and the sun is sending its rays through my window and shining on my hair making it go the cool brown color i love as i'm tip-tapping away at my computer. It happened once. I was writing the angstiest thing i had ever written at the time and was shaking. It was glorious.

What’s your big goal with writing?

That I never treat it like a chore. Ig thats more of a wish than a goal.

Then ig a goal would be to make it mean as much to someone else as it does to me. Or for people to just have a blast and let go of their worries and take a break as they read my stuff. But the goal that will never leave is to improve. I take one thing and work on it one by one until it's to my satisfaction. Currently, i'm working on describing settings.

No pressure tags: @uncertainwallflower @cygnusdoesthings @sardonic-sprite @wakkoroni @tristicorde @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego @blightwritesfic @pevensiechase

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Beyond the Lights, Pt 3

Dating Lena isn't easy. If that's even what they're doing. Part of Kara feels like she's simply tagging along for the whirlwind life of Lena Luthor, flitting from interview to recording studio to modelling shoots. But just when Kara is about to call enough and leave, she catches Lena's eye, and the smile that answers that split moment of eye contact makes the stolen hours, minutes, moments between them worth it.

In those stolen moments, Lena finally begins to open up. About her life, her feelings. The fact she wants to write her own songs. The fact she never wanted to sing pop in the first place-- how her true love are the haunting melodies of her homeland, and that one day she wants to bring the lilting style to an eponymous album.

In exchange, Kara shares that while she does actively love her job, she's already wearing thin. The job is tough, and she sees too much for her faith in humanity to remain intact. She doesn't ever want to lose sight of the good in people, but she doesn't know what else she could ever do that could help people in the same way she does now.

It's tender, and somehow more intimate than any sex Kara's ever had. She feels like Lena can see inside her, and as they continue whatever it is they're doing, she slowly discovers that she can read Lena.

She can see how much the pressure of Lena's career weighs on her. She sees the way Lena's eyes flick to her mother when a photographer asks to see more and more skin, and how Lena's jaw tightens when Lillian always gives the greenlight, either ignorant or indifferent to her daughter's discomfort.

Kara sees how uncomfortable Lena is in a room full of people all clamoring for her attention-- or just clamoring for her, attention be damned. At times it seems like Lena is nothing but a doll to them, to be moved this way and that, and that is when Lena is the most frighteningly empty.

Their intimacy comes to a screeching halt, however, when Kara finds out that Lena is in a relationship with fellow recording artist and frequent collaborator Jack Spheer. Lena assures her that it's just for the label, that Jack is gay too, it means nothing... but Kara can't shake the hurt of having to find out from a tabloid first-- and that it means Lena isn't being as honest as she thought.

"So if the press thinks you and Spheer are dating," Kara says carefully, "what exactly do they think we're doing?"

"Does is matter?" Lena asks, sliding her hand over Kara's.

Kara pulls away. "Yes. It matters. I spent too much of my life hiding who I was and who I wanted. I'm not going to do that again."

"What do you expect me to do, Kara? The label is holding my album over my head-- if I don't give them the version of me they want, they'll scrap the whole thing!"

"Why does it even matter? It's not your music! You said you don't even like--"

"I have not worked as hard as I have, sacrificed as much as I have, to see it all go up in smoke."

Kara regards her solemnly. "Then I guess that's it."

"Wait, what?"

"I should go..."

Lena reaches for her, but Kara pulls away, already reaching for her keys and jacket. "Kara, wait, please--"

"Good bye, Lena."

She pretends not to hear the sob in Lena's chest as she pushes out the door and heads home.

[mixsethaddams]

WIP Word Search!

Five words to search in your WIPs, tagged from @riality-check. Thank you 🥰

My words were think, baby, hum, beautiful, and silence. All of these stories are unpublished in any way just yet. Let's get into it!

Think. The Interview Series.

"I think..." said Steve, carefully considering the stitching of both t-shirts in his hands. "This one. This is hand-stitched so I'm saying it's more expensive. See, here?"

Eddie leaned in to take a look, but instead of agreeing his brow furrows even more.

"I still think it's the other one," he mumbles, tugging at the other t-shirt. "It's way softer,"

Baby. Only Blue Or Black Days. (Big Bang fic).

"He's acting like a baby for attention," sneered Mr. Harrington. "My wife is a nurse, she checked him over. He's fine,"

"Your...wife..." said Eddie slowly. "His mother. Knows about this?"

Steve could hear the strain in Eddie's voice. He tried to lift his arm to grab hold of his sleeve to tell him it's fine, calm down, it's really no big deal. His arm just flopped down heavily over the side of the lounger.

"Yes," said Mr. Harrington firmly. "She gave him some pain medicine and he went on his way. He doesn't need anyone poking into his business, I'm sure he's terribly embarrassed at the state he's gotten himself into,"

Hum. Honey Don't Feed Me, I Will Come Back.

Being back was great. Of course it was, anything would be better than the rotting hole he was stuck in for six weeks before his friends helped him to claw his way out. But being here, now, in the warm sunshine with a cold beer and listening to everyone chat around him? Bliss.

Eddie was happiest about the fact that he seemed to have come back totally unchanged. Everyone expected some sort of power or abnormality to manifest, the super secret doctors tested his brain function twice a day for ten days, but he was just the same Eddie as ever.

There was one thing though.

It was small, small enough to ignore if he really tried to. It was a feeling more than anything, something that hummed in the back of his mind. Eddie came back completely normal, except for now he was able to see that Steve Harrington never was.

Beautiful. Unnamed stalker!Steve fic, based on this post.

Steve was practically giddy on Tuesday evening. Wednesday morning meant he'd have Eddie in his little cubicle, showing him how to fix the last of those little mistakes he'd made last week.

Steve painstakingly ironed his slacks and made sure his work shirt was perfectly crisp and starched. He picked his very best sweater and tried on three different ties.

He wondered if Eddie would be putting so much effort into his appearance tomorrow. Probably, Steve decided. It wasn't like Eddie wouldn't look beautiful even in a black sack with tissue boxes on his feet, but Steve just knew that he was at home right now primping his curly hair with just as much anticipation as Steve was choosing his socks.

Silence. Unnamed fic based on this tweet.

Eddie was sick of being met with silence whenever he tried to show empathy. It wasn't like they hadn't gone through the same thing. It's what brought them together, after all.

Steve just shook his head and turned away.

"You wouldn't get it," he told Eddie. "It's fine, I don't need to talk about it,"

"Obviously you do, Steve," called Eddie, just as the door of the trailer slammed behind Steve. It hit Eddie's heart like a gunshot.

This was a lot of fun!

Tagging with no pressure: @mojowitchcraft , @eddywoww , @henderdads , @legitcookie , @harmonictechnicality , @kickassfu and anyone else who wants to take part!

Your words are: Gasp, Soft, Shake, Quiet, Heavy.

[reyesstrand]

fic origin story

thank you for the tag @welcometololaland and @carlos-in-glasses <3 this is such a fun idea, lola!!

1. what was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?

reading wise….probably teen wolf AJDNSKS and as for writing, i dabbled in fic for the magicians and movies like the old guard, but 911ls has been my first big love with creating content (and consuming it too!)

2. what was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you decide to write it?

i was one of those kids writing stories in dollar store notebooks at like seven or eight, and in high school i took every offered english class including a writer’s craft elective, so a lot of my early “stories” were just for school or for fun.

3. what’s a piece of advice you would give to your younger fic-writing self?

don’t feed into the monster that is imposter syndrome, create what you want to create, don’t get caught up in your idea of perfection, and read read read! i’ve always got both physical books and tabs upon tabs of fic waiting to consume, and i feel like it only helps you as a writer—whether it’s original work or fanfic—to absorb yourself in other people’s stories.

4. what’s an early fandom interaction that stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback, etc.)?

almost every interaction i’ve had in the ls fandom has stuck with me and allowed me to curate the best experience possible, both just as a fan of the show and as a creator. my first lone star fic was a little spec fic written i believe right after episode four aired, and the fandom was still relatively small then and getting some of the sweetest comments from people i’m still mutuals with today makes my heart warm. those early comments definitely fuelled me to keep writing, just as much as those on my newer fics do. i’m also so thankful that me posting my silly little fics have allowed me to meet and talk with some truly amazing people every single day.

5. post a sentence or two from one of your older fics, and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want).

from my very first lone star fic:

TK shrugs, though his mind starts racing. "We've...hung out a couple times. We're seeing where it goes, dad, I don't know if I'm ready for much else. It's just dinner."

Owen gives him a knowing look. TK sighs. He wants to open up to his dad and tell him about how Carlos was so unexpected. He wants to tell his dad that he has this way of seeing right through him, and they've known each other for two months and already feel in synch. There's that numbness that just clouds over him and being with the team and being with Carlos seem to be the only sparks of light he feels, but he doesn't want to let himself get hurt again — and he doesn't want to bring Carlos down with him.

from my latest, a 4x01 coda/4x02-4x04 spec fic:

TK sets his shoulders and shakes his head at himself. He slides the door open and steps inside, kicking off his shoes and dropping his backpack by the door. He hears Tommy's words in his head as he stares at Carlos' back, his fiancé focused on stirring the contents of a sizzling pan. You love him. He loves you. It's the undercurrent of everything they've ever gone through together, isn't it? That magnetic pull; that invisible thread that held them together. A love TK never thought he'd find but can't imagine existing without now.

tagging you back, @welcometololaland! and no pressure tagging @strandnreyes @iboatedhere @marwani-strickland @sunshinestrand @doublel27 @tailoredshirt @maxbegone and anyone else who wants to do this!

[annbourbon]

Describing myself with 10 gifs & songs: (dynamic)

If this appears on your timeline/feed, you have been chosen~

1. Shake it Off lol

Cause I definitely need her almost every day to survive. I'm a pathological people pleaser. Like, to the extreme. I feel I'm being disrespectful and bothering people all the time +_x even here... I sometimes don't want to keep posting cause I feel like I'm annoying so whenever I have anxiety, or I need help: Haters gonna hate so shake it off hey hey hey it helps me to heyheyhey be more calm and keep being my chaotic self lol

Plus, I'm a ballerina. What else is there?

2. You belong with me♡

I'm a romantic to a terrifying point. I can fall in love several times a day with multiple fictional characters but irl I only loved once. Past tense.

Plus, I keep dancing around my room, the house and everywhere lol yes ↓↓↓ this is totally me ↓↓↓

3. All you wanna do

Represents my life so far when it comes to guys and it's kind of depressing because I always like them bad even when I think they're not bad. It's like being Dylan in Charlie Angels. If I like it, it's most definitely a bad guy. But hey! At least I haven't been beheaded. Yet. 🤣

4. Lover

Can I go where you go~?

Even my heart breaks just thinking about it. Cause, I wish, just for once to fall in love with someone who is actually close to me, or to experience real love. No, I have never been in a relationship. Unless you count my insane amount of fictional boyfriends and otome games. And unfortunately I cannot go where they are. I cannot reach them ╥﹏╥

5. Mysterious Messenger

it's been 7 to 8 years now. I'm loyal AF and I have never ever stopped playing. You really cannot expect me not to say it's but it's an iconic song. And it totally defines me "How are you doing today? Same questions every day, you know I'm not good at asking~"

6. ME

I promise that you'll never find another like me-e-e-e-ehh ✨it's always uplitfting my mood.

7. You need to calm down

Nothing to add~ the song is perfect. Reminds me to not judge or hate. We all wear crowns

8. Maddest Kind of Love

I got into jazz and blues thanks to Kim Harrison and Kisten Phelps. So now every time I feel like I want to be sexy~ this song is on my repertoire. Which doesn't appear anywhere I know, but this song was also the one that made me feel inspired to create Karmical Phenomena.

9. Something gotta hold on me

ohhh it must be love♡ the 9th gif was quite hard cause I wasn't sure to go into Taylor Swift again with Blank Space or my love for Christina. She won. I think it's only fair since TS took five places♡ For anyone who has nit yet seen Burlesque, what on earth are you waiting for?

10. Gimme Gimme Gimme

a man after midnight~~♡ who doesn't love ABBA? If you don't love ABBA I'm so sorry for your loss *yeah i'm quoting S.C.*

Now it's your turn~~~ and I'm saying, these are your go to. The comfort songs, your soul. The ones you identify so much you end up screaming, crying, acting them, or dancing around. You cannot pick them. They have already picked you. Wanna join?

No tags. I don't want anyone to feel pressured onto it.

[iatrophilosophos]

(Lmk if you don't want me screenshotting ur tags/saying this next to it i just think this part is important. All future "you"s in this post are @ a general hypothetical reader, not @ you previous poster specifically.)

Neuroleptics is a huge frog boil. I think for a lot of ppl there is a wave of initial relief with the prescription cuz like, most people do get on these meds when they're feeling super fucked up & i think there is a ton of value in the like, neurological shake up to get into a different bodymind frame and start functioning different. And then, for me and a lot of ppl I've talked to, there's the numbness but there can also be 0 emotional memory: i.e. when i was on neuroleptic medication, every feeling was the *only* feeling i had ever felt. I had extreme lows in my daily life, at school, etc but in my nice quiet psychs office, I had nothing to report. Then, there's the fact that these medications cause withdrawals, plus feeling anything again can be super overwhelming. So you get the really classic loops and spirals/"unstable psycho behavior": hate ur meds, build up a bunch of antispsych thoughts, go off, don't process withdrawals well, get into a hole, get hospitalized or face pressure from family/friends/society at large, go back on, feel better for a little bit, start defending psychiatry really hard...rinse and repeat.

So! Alternatives and ~harm reduction~:

If you or someone you know decided you do want to take neuroleptic drugs, it's a really really good idea to set intentions to monitor side effects OUTSIDE of your relationship to your prescriber. Note when you feel like shit, note when you feel HAPPY, make a low effort chart with checkboxes for every day/incident, short form journal, long form journal, make a drawing every day, take a picture every day--whatever is easy and you can look back on to actually assess if this relationship to this drug is doing something you actually want in your life.

WITHDRAWALS ARE REAL. If you're currently taking, have taken, or are considering neuroleptic medication: your experience when you first go off meds or miss a couple days Is NOT "who you are" or what you can expect from baseline w/o the meds. It is an EXTREMELY GNARLY WITHDRAWAL. There's an OK harm reduction guide to coming off psychiatric medication i can send a PDF to if anyone wants to dm me their email (the only actual link I've found for it is paid :/). It's more oriented to antipsych 101 than actual medical info/support but it's ok.

Consider: trying almost anything else before taking neuroleptic medication. There is not really anything that's guaranteed to make you stop hallucinating, which can suck. However; that doesnt mean you will forever feel like shit, or that you can't make changes such that hallucinations are either a lot less likely and/or a lot less intrusive. The now mostly-defunct mad liberation movement has generated a bunch of wonderful narratives and discourse around this topic i highly reccomend delving into to find ideas and practices that might be good. you can search for archives of "mad liberation" "psychiatric survivor" and "anti psychiatry movement" newspapers which are also just super cool to read; you can look up the archived old website for the Icarus Project (search "icarus project archive" sry I'm on mobile); and Project LETS is an extant us college-centric group that might have useful resources. On the materials and practices side:

I'm an herbalist so I'm p much always gonna head towards herbalism; but i think there's some real benefits here in that herbs are 1) cheap 2) not controlled substances (unless you're in aeoteroa, apparently?) 3) many have extremely low if nonexistent potential to cause withdrawal (notable exceptions: kratom, kava) 4) most are metabolized very quickly (within an hour) and wear off within several hours; giving you a large amount of flexibility and control, and 5) there's a lot of good evidence even if youre science-only (kinda an L but you do you.) The Psychpharmacology of Herbal Medicine by Marcello Spinella is a somewhat dated but solid source you can find a free pdf of by Googling or looking on libgen or Anna's archive; find preparation directions in James greens Home Medicine Makers Handbook available in the same databases. It is important when assessing chemical tools like this to think outside the box and more granularly about what kinds of effects might be beneficial situation to situation in Your Specific Life than seeking some sort of "herbal antispsychotic", which does not exist.

Other good options: ruling out vitamin B and D deficiencies, introducing variation in your life or making major life changes (that might sound weird but IMO, starting a long term relationship with a powerful, withdrawal causing psychoactive drug Is In Fact ALSO a major life change!), dropping shrooms or acid, literally just start walking around where you live and see where it takes you, stay at a friend's house for a little bit and learn to navigate a new environment, uhhh in the past when I've been super fucked up in my life I've Literally just gone to like dollar tree and gotten as many foods that I've never eaten before as possible and it helped a lot more than it might sound like it would

Like basically do whatever you want forever and if any of this sounds stupid or terrible like...don't do it... but don't let the establishment fool you into believing your options are suffer with drugs or suffer without them and DEFINITELY don't accept the narrative that it's better to be numb, miserable, and riddled with physiological side effects but managable-for-society than it is to feel alive while insane, abnormal, and unable to live a normative life.

what is your opinion on anti-psychotics then?

that's a misnomer; neuroleptic drugs don't combat a singular biological state of 'psychosis' because there is no such observed or biomarked state. neuroleptics don't have good evidence for their efficacy in actually improving patient outcomes, and are known to cause a range of serious short- and long-term (including permanent!) side effects ranging from metabolic dysregulation to movement disorders (neurological damage) to sedation (they have previously been known as 'major tranquilisers').

on principle i think people should be able to use psychoactive substances of their choosing; in practice i think this is basically a moot point in regards to neuroleptics because the side effects are so common and severe, and the benefits so minimal. these are drugs that continue to be popularly prescribed because they make patients more 'compliant' -- ie, because our current social–economic situation is so profoundly hostile to variation in perceptions of reality that we render people more 'functional' when dangerously medicated into submission.

i also collected a few readings on this here.

[lonelychicago]

wip wednesday!

tagged by @honestlydarkprincess @panbuckley and @prince-buck-diaz @diazblunt <33 here's a moodboard and a snippet for single girl dad buck who interrupts eddie's dates jdwjhwshukewj

"Right." Buck sighs. "God, I don't know what happened tonight." He steps closer, his knuckles delicately brushing against Kie's cheek and watching her with a small but wry smile. "I even gave her the stuffed turtle Chris got her from the aquarium, Tutty, and she wouldn't even look at it. I think she hates me."

"She doesn't hate you." Eddie shakes his head. "She just— I think babies are smarter than we give them credit for. They can feel when you're not okay, when you're too stressed or too tense." Eddie frowns. "Back when I came back from the army and Chris was four months old, he couldn't stop crying. He would literally scream like it was goddamn world war three everytime I picked him up." 

"Really?" 

"I swear." Eddie mutters, Kie slowly drifting off as her face falls to rest on his shoulder. "It got better once I adjusted and calmed down." He glances at him. "You need to relax." 

"I wish I could," Buck breathes out, rubbing his hands all over his face and trying to relax his muscles, his neck feeling like he's about to snap. "But you know how I've been picking extra shifts and stuff, and I don't know, Eddie." Buck hesitates for a few minutes but then speaks the words that have been haunting him for months. "I think I'm a terrible dad." 

"You're not. You're a great dad, Buck." Eddie says softly, looking at him with his cheek resting against the top of Kie's head. It's an adorable image and Buck aches all over when he sees it. "You care for her and you play with her for hours. You read her stories and make all these voices, even when she can't even understand you, just because it makes her giggle. You sing songs in the car with her— and like, those songs for kids that every parent hates but you sing at the top of your lungs. Like, If I were a fish or Baby Shark." Eddie scrunches up his nose and Buck snorts.

Eddie smiles at him briefly but then continues, "And you give all you have for her to be happy and comfortable, you— You are there and you give a crap about her, y'know? That's more than most parents."

"Eddie," Buck exhales, a single trembling breath. 

"Hell, it's more than I ever did for Chris the first few months of his life." 

"You're a great dad, too, y'know?" Buck mutters, his eyes focused on Kie's now sleeping form. "Chris is lucky to have you." 

"We're talking about you now, not me." Eddie pulls  that face that Buck has come to love so much during this last year of knowing each other— the one where his chin tilts down so he has to look at Buck from beneath his eyelashes but the angle managed to cover the small smile that disappeared into his cheek. "And you're an incredible dad." 

"Yeah, okay." 

"I'm serious, Buck. No one enjoys playing peek-a-boo as much as you do." Eddie half teases, half says the truth. "Should give you an award or something." 

"Thanks, Eds." 

tagging: (no pressure): @monsterrae1 @buddierights @prettyboybuckley @bigfootsmom @starlingbite @alyxmastershipper @heartshapedvows @hippolotamus @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @messyhairdiaz @transbuck @transboybuckley @ebdaydreamer @bekkachaos @thewolvesof1998 @spotsandsocks @cowboy-buddie @cowboy-buck @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @barbiediaz @911onabc and anyone else who wants to do it! <33

[spockina]

Kiss Your Best Friend

100% came to after i watched a bunch of ‘kiss your best friend’ tik tok challenges. no i’m not great with titles

the biggest thank you ever to @hearteyesforbuck​ for being the kindest, nicest person, welcoming me into this community, and reading this and giving me valuable feedback. thank you. <3 

4.1k words / fluff

this is my first 9-1-1 fic. pls be kind to me

ps.: this was also posted on ao3!

~

Buck will be the first one to tell you that he isn’t the greatest person with pop culture – and that extends to technology. He’s not even embarrassed about it; it just never piqued his interest, and that’s about it for explanations. So, no, he doesn’t know that the Jonas Brothers are back together – in fact, he only has a vague recollection of who they are –, and the only reason he keeps getting new iPhones is because they keep calling him to offer a trade (and everyone knows shiny new things are always fun, okay?).

Chimney, on the other hand, is a pop culture pro. 

“There’s no such thing as too old for apps, Buck,” he says, waving his phone around as if to prove a point, “because if I still have a phone in my hands, then I can still enjoy the damn apps that go in them, right?”

Buck nods, unsure of what else to say. He hates feeling unsure, more so if the subject is as dumb as popular-things-he-doesn’t-know-and-or-care-about.

“What I’m tryna show you,” Chim continues, as if Buck isn’t about two seconds from tuning out of this conversation entirely, “is a funny series of videos on Tik Tok. I promise you’re gonna laugh at ‘em.”

“What’s… Tik-Tok…?” Buck asks instead.

Chim sighs, but then laughs a little. “Ok, Buck, it doesn’t matter, come watch the videos!”

It starts with a soft, mellow song, and on screen he can see some pictures, all accompanied with text explaining them, that'sthats my best friend, we been best friends for 3 years now, he doesn'tdoesnt know i like him, and then it cuts to a cute moment of a blonde teen leaning in and placing a tentative kiss on said best friend’s lips. They laugh and then hug, and then the video ends. After that one come a few more in succession; some go horribly wrong, and some are funny. Most of them work out as planned, though.

Then Bobby calls Chimney from downstairs, and Chim pockets his phone to leave.

“That’s the ‘kiss your best friend challenge’, Buckaroo.” He says with a grin, all teeth. “Thought you’d enjoy it.” He winks at Buck, and then goes, yelling coming! and leaving behind a very confused and only somewhat amused Buck.

That’s how it starts.

-

So, no, Buck doesn’t really know the first thing about apps in general, what’s trending and what’s not, but he does know how to work the App Store. Knows how to find apps. Knows how to download Tik Tok.

It’s innocent enough at first. The videos are funny, for the most part, and it’s a mindless distraction, even if only slightly better than the games he’s used to, and only better because of the amount of variety he gets.

He can’t help but come back to the stupid videos (and why even call them challenges anyway? What’s challenging about them?) about kissing your best friend.

They’re mostly adorable, but some are heartbreaking. He’s soft, okay? No shame in his game. He’s a soft guy, who’s (mostly) in touch with his feelings. Some of the rejection ones are upsetting; God knows Buck has faced a couple of rejections in his prime, and they hurt.

He keeps watching them anyway.

-

This week has been a rough one. Eddie picked up an extra shift, which made Buck decide to pick one up, too, because why the hell not? Christopher wasn’t even going to need anything Buck could help with, as he already had plans with Abuela. That extra shift, it turned out, was a horrible mistake.

(Not really. Buck really, really does love his job. Loves doing what he does, loves knowing he’s helping people. Sometimes it gets exhausting, though. Sometimes he’s made to face  what losing his friends, his family, Eddie would feel like, and those hurt days like a motherfucker.)

A huge house fire reached the two neighboring houses. They needed backup, the whole thing was insane. Half of the roof collapsed not even two inches from where Eddie was standing, twin girls in his arms, Buck watching from the ladder where he was ready to take the girls. It doesn’t matter how many times they go near death; every single time it happens in slow-motion. Everyone came out alive, but the bitter taste followed Buck’s mouth into the truck, where he places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, and leaves it there until they reach the station.

“Plans for the evening?” He asks softly. They feel extra raw tonight.

“Not really.” Eddie replies, and the silence stretches. Buck thinks that’s all Eddie’s saying, until he clears his throat, continues. “Christopher’s staying with Abuela, and then Carla’s picking him up and taking him to school in the morning.” Another pause. “I’m just tired, Buck. I need to crash.”

Buck nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just. I won’t be able to,” he says, complete honesty without even thinking, and that’s probably his favorite thing about his friendship with Eddie. No filter, just truth. Mostly.

Eddie nods, but it’s more of a jerky motion. Buck doesn’t inquire further.

“You wanna grab a couple pizzas and some beer? We can pretend to watch a movie until we collapse.”

The suggestion sounds heavenly. Buck grins, nods, already picking up his phone.

“Domino’s fine? The usual?”

Eddie nods. “Your place or mine?”

-

In the end they only get the pizzas because Buck has more than enough beers for the two of them at his place. 

They have three mostly empty pizza boxes on the coffee table, beer in hand, a half a dozen other bottles around the boxes, a movie they’re pretending to watch – but even as it plays on screen, Buck can’t pretend to know what’s going on. He’s sitting on the far end of the couch, with Eddie right beside him, head on his shoulder.

Buck’s a naturally tactile person. Craves physical touches, and the warmth of another person’s skin. Eddie wasn’t always like that; it took him some time to open up, and Buck doesn’t know if this is for him only, or if he’s as open with any of his other friends, but that doesn’t matter to Buck.

Buck moves his arm behind Eddie, so that they can both be more comfortable, and Eddie looks up a little startled, soft around the edges and glassy-eyed, which means he was probably on his way to falling asleep when Buck moved. He smiles at Buck, a small smile that’s open and honest and free. And Buck… Wow. Buck realizes, then and there, that he wants to kiss Eddie. 

It’s only a second, and then Eddie’s looking back at the screen, burrowing just the tiniest bit more into the space Buck has made for him, taking a sip of his beer, sighing very softly.

And, oh. Oh. Buck understands now. Buck knows, deeply and suddenly, why they’re called challenges, and what the challenging part is about the whole kiss your best friend thing.

It’s a bet he’s not sure if he’s willing to take.

-

Buck can’t stop thinking about it.

He doesn’t remember when he knew he was in love with Abby. That’s always where their relationship was going to go, there wasn’t another option. They weren’t ever in it for anything other than being together. Sure, Buck tried, for the first time, to be a better man, and that was what moved them along, but Buck always knew how they were supposed to end up. Together. Which is why he doesn’t know when he realized he was in love with Abby. If the goal was to get the girl, then being in love with her was an integral part of the plan. He just doesn’t fucking know, which is making everything worse.

Because he’s pretty sure he’s in love with Eddie.

Because he didn’t know, and then he did.

Because it was easy to figure out.

Eddie looked at him, open and carefree, even if for just a minute, and Buck thought yes. And that was it. Buck thought yes, Buck thought he would do anything to just keep Eddie looking like that, soft, and safe, and tranquil. In his arms. Buck thought all those things in a millisecond, and he knew what they meant. He knows what they mean, because he hasn’t stopped thinking about them ever since they materialized in his mind.

I’m in love with Eddie.

Buck wanted to be a better man for Abby, and he was, but Eddie makes him a better man.

He hates knowing this. He doesn’t know what to do with it, because, while he would never do anything to jeopardize what he has with Eddie (this friendship, this trust, this love – that is above the romance part of things, and involves everything else – namely, Christopher, and the feeling of belonging he gets when he’s with them), he also knows himself. He knows this isn’t going to last very long before he bursts and makes a mess of things. He needs to think, but he has, has been doing nothing but think about this.

He needs to do something.

He just hasn’t figured out what just yet.

-

The idea comes, funnily enough, when they’re at a call.

The universe sure loves a good dose of irony.

Some (dumb) teenager stuck in the air vent, was what the 9-1-1 operator said. There’s a really big, sour looking man yelling at a teenage girl – who’s yelling right back at him – outside when they get there, a lady watching them, clear from her face that she’s both the girl’s mom and the man’s wife and that she’s given up on whatever’s going on. He half hears as Bobby tries to placate things enough to understand what’s going. The girl outside starts sobbing, but now he’s concentrating on the girl inside, upstairs in a bedroom, stuck in the air vent.

“Hey, can you hear me?” He says loudly, and gets some noise back that he’ll take as an answer. She’s already all the way in the vent, save for one foot hanging out from where she got stuck trying to move, a knee up and one leg straight. Stupid, stupid idea. “What’s your name?” He asks, and then they start to work.

“Sage,” she answers, loud. He’s not sure if she’s yelling or if the sound’s carrying, but he keeps being loud just to be sure.

“Ok, Sage, we’re gonna get you out, don’t worry! Wanna tell me whatcha doing in there?”

“Looking for a rat,” she replies, and Eddie huffs a laugh beside him, shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, I just panicked!”

“Hey, don’t worry about my feelings, Sage, we’re fine. You wanna tell me what happened for you to hop up there?”

“What’s your name?” She says, and that takes him by surprise. His eyebrows go up, and he looks at everyone around before answering.

“Uh, it’s Buck. My name’s Buck.”

“Look, Buck,” she starts, and she sounds so, so angry, but also so very sad, “Baileya’s dad hates me, ok? I haven’t seen her in a month! She’s my best friend!”

“Ok, Sage, I’m gonna need you to take a few calming breaths before we continue, ok? Do you want me to breathe with you?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she says, and then she’s quiet, and they can all hear her breathing deeply. “Okay, sorry. Look. Baileya’s dad he, uh, he thinks I’m a bad influence. He was supposed to be somewhere, fuck if I know, but he was only supposed to come back tomorrow. I haven’t seen B in a month –” that last part sounds so sad it breaks Buck’s heart a bit, “– and I just. I missed her.” She’s silent for a little bit, and no one presses for more, but then she speaks up again. “We saw his car outta the window and I just panicked. This air vent hasn’t had a pane for the longest time and I’m a fucking gymnast, so I thought I could just jump up here and hang out for a minute. I know it was stupid, but he would kick me out if he found me, and I mean that very literally.”

Buck looks at his team. They all know what this means.

Finally, Bobby says, “Well, Sage, you’re gonna be out of there in a minute, and you’re gonna get to see your best friend, and no one’s touching you under the protection of the LAFD, okay? Don’t worry.”

She sounds shaky when she says thank you.

When they get her out, she asks them to stay at the door so she can get all her things in her backpack, and Buck notices her phone was propped up against some books in a table in front of the bed. Everyone trails out and he lingers behind to protect her, but also to say, in an almost-whisper:

“Hey, Sage, why was your phone propped up like that?”

She turns tomato red in a second, flat-out. “I was, uh. I was. Um. Filming a thing.”

And of course Buck knows. He knows that angle. “A challenge?”

She looks surprised. “Yeah. For, um, for Tik-Tok.”

“Did you get to do it?”

“Yeah, Buck,” she says, and he wouldn’t ask, normally, but her voice says it all.

“Did Baileya like it?”

She smiles at him, almost as if she can’t keep it in. “Yes.”

He decides then and there that he’s not going to look them up, but he can’t stop thinking about the smile on Sage’s face when she said yes.

The whole way back to the station he keeps watching Chimney, who has noticed, but hasn’t asked what he’s looking at him for. He wonders if he was always obvious to everyone else, and only oblivious to himself. He wonders whether he’s obvious to Eddie or if Eddie is oblivious to him.

More than anything, though, he’s pretty sure he found a way to do something. He feels silly. It was staring at him this whole time. Or, well, he was staring at it, really, for quite some time, in fact.

-

It’s another Saturday, and he’s been psyching himself up for a week. 

Sure, he’s figured out what to do, and he doesn’t wanna risk anything. That doesn’t mean he’s not jittery about it. So much, in fact, that Eddie notices as soon as he walks through the door.

Christopher jumps up as soon as he sees him, saying a long and excited Buck! and all but flinging himself at Buck, who has just enough time to drop the bags he has on the floor carefully and pick up Christopher in the same motion.

“How’s my Superman doing?”

“Good, Bucky. How are you?”

“Ready for a fun day with my favorite boys,” he replies, easy as anything.

He drops Christopher, and Eddie gives him a quick hug before picking up the bags he brought.

“What are these?”

“Well, it’s a nice day, thought we could, you know, make a day of it? You said you didn’t have plans and I have everything for a nice picnic.” He shrugs.

“I don’t see a basket,” Eddie teases.

“It’s in the car, you jerk.”

Eddie laughs. “Hey, Christopher, what do we think about a picnic?”

“Picnic!” is all the reply he gets from a very excited Christopher. “I’m going to change,” he says, already shuffling to his bedroom, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I also got us some beer, but that’s more for later in the evening. Thought we could order a pizza after Chris goes to bed, maybe?”

Eddie looks fake-shocked. “You want a whole entire day of eating not really health stuff? Who are you and what did you do to my Buck?”

And Buck knows, okay? Buck knows he’s just joking, but it still tugs at his heart, makes him feel like those butterflies people talk about are real: his head feels light, there’s a tingling on the tips of his fingers. Instead of any of the stupid things he wants to do, he just shakes his head, smiles.

“Nah, man, just wanted a nice day with the two of you, that’s all.”

Eddie’s smile is blinding. “Sounds good to me.”

-

“I’ll tuck him in and you order the pizza?”

“Yup.”

“‘K. Chris, go say good night to Buck.”

Christopher moves slowly. They’ve had a fun, long day.

“Good night, Bucky. I love you.”

“Good night, Chris. I love you, too.”

Buck listens to the sounds of the two of them as he orders the pizza. He thinks about how familiar it is, how at home he feels.

How he is, maybe, about to mess the whole thing up.

He sure has his excuses in place in case things don’t go the way he wants them to – “it’s just a joke, look, I can show you the other videos. It’s a challenge for Tik Tok. I just wanted to be down with the kids, Eddie! I thought you’d be game! It’s just for show!” – but it’s not going to stop things from being awkward for a little bit until they get back to normal. 

When Eddie comes back, the pizza is there already, and Buck is nursing a beer that’s already halfway down, but has one out for Eddie, cold and fresh. Eddie collapses on the couch with a grunt.

“That boy’s getting big, por Díos, where did the time go,” he says, sitting up nicely, taking a swig of his beer.

They’re having a good time. But they’re never not having a good time. This is it, Buck realizes. He can’t imagine ever again feeling so at home in the presence of someone else. He can’t imagine loving a child so deeply; can’t imagine loving a man more for the way he loves his own son. This is it.

Eddie goes to the bathroom, and it’s Buck’s chance.

He puts the phone up against a vase Eddie has on the coffee table; knows Eddie enough to know he won’t notice, especially after two beers.

“Alright, what did I miss,” Eddie says as he walks in the living room, more conversationally than interested, and Buck knows it’s now or never.

“Hey, Eddie,” he says, slowly, which makes Eddie look at him immediately, confusion and worry written in the lines around his eyes.

“You ok, Buck?” He asks, placing his beer bottle on the coffee table in front of them, worry making him move more into Buck’s personal space.

Ok, Buck. Now or never. Do it.

“Yeah, yeah, I just. I. Look, Eddie, I just need to –” Buck cuts himself off in favor of moving entirely into Eddie’s personal space, meeting him in the middle where Eddie already was. The air between them mingles, Buck can feel the warmth they’re creating back on his lips.

“What are you doing?” Eddie whispers, sharp, and for a second Buck feels as if he has lost; this exact moment is suspended in infinity for Buck to commit it to memory, to remember his loss, forevermore. But then. Then, Eddie looks down at Buck’s lips, and licks his own. Buck needs nothing else. He goes in.

Eddie is very still when their lips touch, but Buck can absolutely not help but notice how soft they are. Eddie is all hard angles and big muscles, but his lips are so soft, how’s that even possible? And then Buck notices he isn’t moving. He isn’t even breathing, actually, holding himself taut. Buck’s thankful for his foresight of not touching Eddie anywhere besides the lips.

Buck backs away slowly, hoping that Eddie won’t look at him too close, hoping Eddie will take pity and just let him run away for the night. But Eddie is watching him intently, looking into the blue eyes that already feel wet, so obviously they look wet. But hey! Buck tried, didn’t he? 

All the apologies and speech he had ready die in his throat. He’s not going to lie to Eddie; he doesn’t want to lie to Eddie. He should know. He should know that Buck is in love with him, heart-achingly so. He needs to know. So Buck doesn’t say anything. He looks around; for a second he had forgotten the phone was even there. He starts to get up, his mind a mess. 

Eddie holds his wrist. Buck looks at where they’re touching as if it’s burning. Eddie tugs, hard, making him sit down. 

“Did you mean that?" He asks, voice only above a whisper, but still crystal clear.

“What?” Buck says, confused. 

“Buck. Did you mean to do that?” He asks again, eyes on Buck’s. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Yeah, Eddie. I’ve been meaning to. For a while now.” 

Buck closes his eyes, then. Eddie's eyes are too bright, too beautiful for Buck to keep looking at. And then, Eddie’s hand is up against his neck, his jaw, against his cheek, resting there, thumb awfully close to the corner of Buck’s mouth. And then, Buck’s being kissed. For real. 

Eddie kisses exactly like he does all other things: quietly, not showing off, but assured of himself and of what he’s doing; he’s a pro and he knows it. 

Buck is about to shift into ‘two can play at this game mode’ when he remembers the phone recording. 

He pulls away slowly, softly, regrettably, but covers Eddie’s hand on his cheek with one of his hands, moves it to his mouth to kiss Eddie’s palm. Free. Able and allowed to do this. 

They smile at each other. Buck could stare at Eddie’s smile forever. 

He reaches for his phone on the coffee table and says a fuck so heartfelt Eddie moves away from him on the couch. 

“Buck?”

“It. Wasn’t. Recording.”

“What?”

Buck is, admittedly, a little late on the uptake of how bad that sounded. It takes him a while to explain the whole thing to Eddie, which of course includes showing him a few challenge videos. 

"So you had a speech ready in case I flipped out on you,” Eddie concludes. 

“Yup, correct." 

A beat, and then: "You didn’t say anything, though." 

Buck looks up at him, confused. "What do you mean?" 

"You pulled back, and you didn’t say anything. You were just going to leave." 

And, wow. Buck forgets, sometimes, just how perceptive Eddie is. He looks away for a second, but decides Eddie deserves honesty, even if it’s at the cost of baring his soul. He already did a lot of that tonight, might as well keep going. 

"I realized I wanted you to know. Our friendship is the most important thing I have, and so I knew that, whatever happened here, you needed to know that I’m in love with you. I was sure we could get over it and back into our friendship eventually, but I just needed you to know." 

Eddie nods, understanding, taking one of Buck’s large hands between both of his. 

"Thank you, Buck. Not just for your honesty, but also for taking a chance on us." 

They kiss. 

A lot. 

-

Eddie, bless him, not only is a good sport and has fun with the whole thing, but also helps Buck find pictures of the two of them.

- 

"Hey, Chim! Come up here!” Buck yells as soon as he sees Chimney coming in through the station gates. 

He’s happy. He feels like he might burst with happiness. 

The past week has been everything he dreamed of, and more. Christopher was so happy he cried, which made Buck cry, which made Eddie sniff, which the two other boys in the room knew meant Eddie was trying not to cry. Buck was finally happy. 

Sure it had only been a week, but he was ready to share that with the world. And he was going to start with Chimney. 

“What’s up, Buckaroo? You look awfully chirpy for this early in the morning.” He then noticed: “Oh, hey Eddie. You’re up early." 

"Someone had to contain Mr. Buckley over here. He’s excited." 

”…Okay. Buck? Anytime now.“ 

"I just gotta show you this video on Tik Tok." 

"Wait, what? You got Tik Tok? Look at you, Buck!" 

Buck can’t help the blush. "Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He places his phone in Chimney’s hands. “Watch." 

Chim presses play, and his mouth does some weird things, but he looks positively pleased. 

"I knew it!” He yells when he’s done, excitement he can’t contain. 

They hug, and Chim promises not to tell anyone until they do, offering them well wishes and relationship help, which they both wrinkle their noses at, but say thank you all the same. 

Eddie moves into the kitchen, and Chimney takes the opportunity to say, so that only Buck can hear: “I knew you’d enjoy the challenge, Buck." 

Buck knows he’s a sap, but he can’t help the smile. "Yeah, Chim. I’ll owe you one forever." 

Chimney shakes his head at him, his smile so fond even Buck can see. 

"Nah, Buckaroo. Just be happy. That’s all I want."