#i have names for my leads that i really like

[morganbritton132]

(A little continuation from this post about teeny tiny Steve asking Wayne for help)

“It’s not a lie!” Steve insisted, grabbing hold of Tommy’s backpack strap so they don’t get separated as they filter out of the school building. “It really happened, I swear.”

“Superman really came to your house?”

“Not Superman. Not a superhero,” Steve shook his head. “He’s just has powers. I saw them with my own eyes.”

Tommy waited until the crowd started to thin out before saying, “I think you need to get your eyes checked.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “I’m serious, Tommy. Mr Wayne could see through metal and had super-strength, and - and he can control electricity like an X-Men.”

“If he’s a superhero how come you know his name? They’re supposed to have secret identities.”

“Cause I’m smart and figured it out.”

Tommy makes a face, leading them over to the crosswalk so they can make the trek to his house, “Is this like when you went to ninja school over spring break?”

“I did go to ninja school!”

“My mom said you went to your grandma’s.”

“That’s where the ninja school is,” Steve insisted. “Grandpa Otis taught me ninja moves from the war.”

“Grandpa Otis isn’t a ninja.”

“He has a sword, Tommy. Why would he-“

“Hey, guys! Wait up!” They heard behind them and stopped as Carol ran to catch up. “Choir was cancelled. What’s up with the police here?”

“They have to be here,” Steve answered, “To help with the traffic after that girl got hit a car.”

“But why are they staring at you?”

What?

Steve turned and looked over at the cop monitoring the crosswalk. He was a big scary looking guy with a big mustache and big arms, and yeah. He was staring at them.

Steve looked away from Hopper quickly, “We didn’t do anything.”

“Maybe they know about the superhero and are looking for him,” Tommy said dramatically. “Maybe they want to capture him but they don’t know how to get to him so they’re looking at you. They know how to you easy.”

“Oh my god, he’s still talking about the superhero thing?” Carol asked.

Tommy grinned at her and the two walked off, but Steve stayed rooted to his spot. He turned back one last time, observing Hopper as he observed him. Steve frowned.

Then he ran after his friends, “Guys, wait for me.”

[baambied]

silk satin sheets

❝ CAITLYN KIRAMANN ❞⠀

contains : mean caitlyn , dirty talk , strap (reader!rec) , vulgar language , using reader as a distraction , caitlyn thinking about vi , finger sucking , top caitlyn , dominant caitlyn.

"f - fuck! caitlyn i can't -"

"wrong name dear.."

"c - commander! please!"

if someone asked you how'd you ended up in commander kiramanns bed...you genuinely wouldn't have an answer for them.

you were one of the lucky enforcers who had gotten picked to be on caitlyn kiramann's special force team, you didn't know much about the young kiramann girl - and it was hard to since she seemed like a hard shell to crack and get to know..every mission...every failed mission she just seemed to grow more distant, more angry...

especially when she returned from another failed mission without her usual panther by her side...by the irritated yet tired look on her face no one dared to question where the red-headed zaunite girl - who seemed to always be with caitlyn until now was.

and now ever since than ... she grew more demanding as leads began to dry up, more angry....yet you saw through that...to you..you didn't see that angry, demanding, commander...you just saw a hurt girl trying to fill a hole that she didn't know how to fill...with no instructions...no direction in which to go.

so you tried to comfort her.

grow closer to her.

be that shoulder that she had once lost to lean on when things got bad.

and somehow in that process..

you ended up naked, the flesh of your body beaming in sweat..on her dark blue silk satin sheets..

for the third time this week.

"ahh fu - you're s-so deep cait - commander!" your pathetic whiny babbles coming out muffled as your sticky and damp cheek was pushed up against her pillow, both your hands trembling as you were told by the blue haired woman to hold your legs, pulling away flesh so she could see her strap clearly disappearing in your wet cunt.

you could feel your wet juices flowing down your legs, you already came yet she wouldn't stop - she had your hips in a tight hold - her long slender fingers gripping the fat on your waist as her hips slammed continously against you - "you can fuckin' take it" she snarls...her sharp blue eyes staring at where you two were connected.

she couldn't stop staring - wouldn't stop staring..the sight was almost addictive..the long slender silicone appearing and reappearing either every thrust of her hips.

you were exhausted, attempting to swallow the high-pitched whimpers that escaped your swollen lips - but apart of you almost felt embarrassed .. knowing she was using your body for her own use...just knowing she had someone else in her mind other than you..

yet - you stayed..you stayed with your warm sticky cheek pressed harshly against her silk pillow with your ass parched up for her.

but my god - even if caitlyn was picturing someone else - something else...she couldn't deny how beautiful you looked this wasn't her usual self...she knew that....that tough - demanding expression faltering slightly whenever you obeyed her words..whenever those sweet pathetic sounds escaped your lips.

it's true, she was just using you as a distraction..as a toy.. but - she needed this..oh how desperately she needed this...it was almost pathetic.

she felt bad, you were sweet...you were really fucking sweet...

she barely knew you ... all she knew was that you cared for her - she didn't fucking know why but ... it felt nice for awhile having somebody by her side again , it reminded her of someone... a certain someone.

you knew this wasn't going to last , caitlyn wasn't in love with you ... you knew the growing feelings in your heart weren't going to match her's in the slightest - you knew you were probably a stupid rebound, but .. fuck ...

those reality checks are kinda hard to think of when her strap is 6 inches deep in your fucked out cunt.

suddenly caitlyn's arms wrapped around your torso, flipping you roughly on your back, causing a sharp yelp to escape your lips ... her strap entering you once more before you could even process your new position.

her palmed gently pressed against your lower stomach as her hips snapped at a fast pace.

"a - ah! shit! cait - ahhh" you moaned out as your hands searched for something to grip on , your hips buckling frantically as you felt you weren't going to last much longer again.

your teary eyes slowly opened as they caught the sight of the beauty above you , her hair coming undone by her fast pace movements , long stranding of her dark blue hair in her face - her face flushed as her droppy eyes were locked on the sight in between your legs.

her gaze almost in a daze.

"c-cait - commander please.."

caitlyn's eyes snap up at the sound of your whiny voice... eyeing your flustered face - fucked out expression.

her hips faltering for a moment as she leaned down, hand gripping the headboard above you as she leaned closer to you, fixing her position. "you're doing so good.. " she whispered lowly in your ear as her free hand gripped your thigh as she began pounding in you faster.

you let out shallow breaths ... soft moans as your thighs opened wider .. growing so incredibly sensitive you wanted something else ...... slowly you leaned your head up further towards caitlyn's - who's was right above you ... leaning up in an attempt to catch her lips with yours only to be meant with nothing ... your eyes slowly opening as you feel her actions slow down..

caitlyn stared at you with an expression you couldn't quite read - unreadable inked on her face as she just gazed down at you , her grip on the headboard loosening.

you didn't know what you were expecting , even though she fucked you in her own bed ... was inches deep inside you , she never let you kiss her ... as if that was to intimate for the girl... embarrassment filled throughout your body , cheeks warmed as your eyes began to avoid her gaze.. opening your mouth to say something only to be cut off.

"open your mouth .." caitlyn whispered as she leaned closer to you , her droopy eyes staring at your plump lips.

without hesitation, you did what she asked.

you moan at the sudden feeling of her fingers on your tongue, her fingers pressing against it as she leaned closer .. your body shuddering as you felt her fingers slowly thrust in your mouth ... her hips slowly matching the rhythm.

"are you going to be a good girl for me? hm?" she questions you as she analyzed your expressions. . . you rapidly nod your head at her words - lips closing around her long fingers , hips buckling as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your climax.

"yeah?" caitlyn roughly pulled her fingers from your mouth as she leaned up straightening her back , her palm of her hand gently hitting your thigh.

"get back on your stomach with your head down - i don't wanna hear a fucking sound until you're cumming around my cock" caitlyn spoke to you in a demanding tone - a tone you've grown very familiar with .... something you've grown to love alot.

"o-okay commander kiramann.."

[invincibledc]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨: this OC is an OC I’ve written for my own amusement. He’s the son of Harley Quinn and joker. Full name, Jacklyn Oswald Quinn. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically in my head and anything. Boy’s crazy but handsome. Although, these aren’t really headcannons I suppose as this is what happened to him as my OC.

Let’s state this off here, the reason why Jason and him don’t get along is of course due to joker. Joker killed Jason, and joker having a son that literally had sprayed green hair made Jason livid. But the only thing Jack and Jason have in common is hating joker after Jack starts to live with Harley more. They also hate each other because personally, they’ve both been traumatized by joker.

Jack has been choked out aggressively by joker, his own father who didn’t and doesn’t see him as a son but as a tool. Due to Jack being young and disrespecting joker, joker had choked Jack out, straining his voice as the young boy screamed. Harley had to get involve. That’s why Jack lives with Harley. And yes that’s why his voice is always raspy and hoarse.

Yes, Jack is a natural Yandere for batsib!reader. In all universes or multiverses. He is possessive and obsessive over the poor Wayne.

Jack never once cared for himself, leading to him looking emotionless at times with dull blue eyes. But once batsib!reader started to care for him, he’s been putting effort to not make them worried.

After joker was fully secured into Arkham Asylum, that’s when he fully changed as he took out the dye from his hair to be a blonde like his mother. He is a naturally blonde but it gets mistaken as time as dirty blonde.

He has a scar on his lip due to one of your batarang’s hitting his lip.

The reason for his real name being “Jacklyn” is because he was supposed to be a girl only for him to come out a boy. (Yes you can also headcannon him as transmasc. That’s fine)

He’s a creep at times, but that’s okay. It’s not like he knows all of batsib!reader passwords or anything to get into their phone and put his number in.

He’s smart, he isn’t dumb. He knows a lot about technology and explosives.

He mostly likes to be like his mother, wanting to have her color palette so he can forget that he’s ever joker’s son, and just harley’s son.

Jack is very flexible, him and dick has competed before. You can guess who won it.

Damian doesn’t like Jack, but he doesn’t despise him as much as Jason does. As long as he keeps his sibling happy, he’s fine with the boy.

Is homeschooled, would love to go to Gotham academy, but what’s the point when he’s the son of the worse criminal in the world that killed lives.

He loves rock and metal music, don’t even get him started.

It’s obvious he’s a momma’s boy, he said it himself once

But in the end, he’s a crazed boy that had a fucked up life and is trying to be redeemed.

[himasgod]

Hello! ^^ I've read your fanfic about Malleus being jealous and I really loved it! If I could, could I make a request?

It's a reader x anyone from the TWST cast, but preferably Azul, in a stablished relationship, where the reader is telling Malleus about her latest date with Azul and Malleus is acting like a puritain nun because HAND-HOLDING....? BEFORE MARRIAGE...????????

In the ghost bride event he says he cannot do fake engagements bc he's a prince and yada yada, so I think he takes VERY srsly a relationship and would be flabbergasted by the smallest things lmao

Maybe a bit of overprotective Malleus again pls? 👉👈

Ty if u take this in consideration 💕

Where Malleus is too overprotective with you

Where you tell Malleus about the date you had that night with Azul, but he can't put aside his overprotective and somewhat rigid mind.

Dusk tinged the sky with warm hues when you ran into Malleus on one of his evening strolls around campus. It wasn't unusual for him to accompany you during these quiet hours, where you chat freely with him without interruption from the daytime hustle and bustle of NRC. This time, however, his expression was a mix of disbelief and sternness as he listened to you tell him about your last date with Azul.

"And you're saying… he held your hand?" Malleus asked, his voice resonating with gravity.

You looked at him, blinking in confusion.

"Yes. We were walking down Octavinelle, and Azul took my hand. It was cute, he was nervous at first, but then he relaxed and—"

"That's outrageous," he interrupted, frowning with an almost comical intensity. "Don't you know that such direct contact between a lady and her fiancé should only occur after a formal engagement?"

Your jaw nearly dropped in astonishment. "What-"

"Marriage is a sacred bond, a bond not to be taken lightly." Malleus crossed his arms, assuming a posture of princely dignity. "If Ashengrotto has already dared to touch your hand without a formal promise, then he must take responsibility and honor you properly."

You didn't know whether to laugh or be a little scared.

"Malleus, we're in a relationship, not in a royal court from the last century. It's just holding hands!"

Malleus didn't seem convinced.

"First holding hands… then what's next? Walks alone at night? Letters written with sweet nothings?" he exclaimed with genuine concern, while you nodded along, not understanding what was wrong with it all.

"Boldness."

You brought a hand to your face, trying to hold back your laughter. This was ridiculous.

"Malleus, we've gone on dates before. We've also held hands before."

He took a deep breath, as if he'd just heard blasphemy.

"I can't believe Ashengrotto dared to touch you like that without making a formal offer of marriage. Does he have no honor?" His gaze darkened, almost offended by your name.

"Malleus, stop!" You finally laughed. "Really, it's not that serious."

"Of course it is," he insisted, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Come to think about it… what are his intentions toward you? I won't allow him to play with your heart."

There it was. Malleus's overprotective way. You knew he cared you, but sometimes you forgot that his sense of protection was too… archaic.

"Azul is a gentleman, Malleus," you assured him, trying to calm his indignation. "He's very attentive to me. You don't have to worry."

But Malleus didn't seem convinced at all.

"I'll watch him closely," he declared. “I won’t allow someone to lead you down the path of perdition with empty promises and immodest gestures.”

“Malleus… it’s just holding hands!”

He didn’t reply, but you could see the storm of thoughts running through his mind. Clearly, he was reconsidering his position regarding Azul.

“Tell me,” he continued after a tense silence, “what else has happened between you?” His emerald eyes glittered with suspicion.

“Uh… well, we ate together. Azul cooked for me, and—”

“He fed you too?!” he exclaimed, putting a hand to his chest, as if you had committed an unforgivable heresy.

“Sharing food is an act of deep intimacy. In Briar Valley, a meal prepared with care and shared in such a manner is a symbol of absolute devotion."

Now you were certain that Malleus was exaggerating everything in the most hilarious way possible.

“Malleus, it was just lunch. Azul just wanted to surprise me.”

“First the hands, then the food…” he muttered to himself, clearly uneasy. “This is worse than I imagined. I must speak to Azul as soon as possible.”

“Don’t even think about it!” You rushed to stop him, desperately grabbing his arm.

“As your friend and protector, it is my duty to ensure that he treats you with the respect you deserve.” His tone was completely solemn, which made it even funnier.

You covered your face with your hands, knowing that no matter how many times you explained the normality of your relationship, Malleus would still see every small act of affection as an affront to decorum. Azul had no idea what was coming his way.

That night, you learned that your boyfriend would be receiving menacing glares from a very overprotective dragon in the coming days.

[gpcwsl]

Leah Williamson x Reader

Stranger

WC: 2.2k+

MasterList

Warnings: Emotional vulnerability and personal health struggles (endometriosis), Unsolicited contact with a stranger, Developing an emotional connection with an unknown person, Text-based conversations leading to a sense of attachment, Feelings of loneliness and seeking comfort from someone unfamiliar, Growing attraction and emotional conflict in an online conversation, short?

Song: Accidentally in love - Counting Crows

Leah Williamson was lying on her bed, staring at her phone. Her cramps were relentless tonight—worse than usual—and she felt like curling up into herself and disappearing. But she needed to talk to someone, and Beth Mead was usually the first person she’d go to.

Leah: Meado, I need you.

She hit send and let out a slow breath, pressing the heel of her hand against her stomach. A few seconds later, her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: Who’s this?

Leah frowned. Beth wasn’t the type to mess around when she knew Leah wasn’t feeling great.

Leah: Haha, very funny. It’s me, idiot.

A moment passed before another text came through.

Unknown Number: I think you’ve got the wrong number.

Leah sat up a little, confusion cutting through the pain. Then, it hit her—Beth had changed her number a few weeks ago. She’d mentioned it in passing, but Leah had been too distracted to save it.

Leah: Oh. Right. Sorry.

Unknown Number: No worries. Hope you find who you’re looking for.

Leah should’ve left it at that, but something made her pause. Maybe it was the fact that she was feeling miserable, or maybe it was because this stranger didn’t just ignore her. Instead, they answered.

Unknown Number: You okay?

Leah hesitated. This was ridiculous. She didn’t even know this person. But at the same time… she’d started the conversation. And right now, she just wanted someone to listen.

Leah: Not really.

Unknown Number: Want to talk about it?

Leah chewed on her lip. Then, almost against her better judgment, she typed:

Leah: You wouldn’t get it unless you’re a woman.

There was a short pause.

Unknown Number: I’m a woman.

Leah let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

Leah: I have endometriosis. Flare-ups are hell, and I don’t want to be alone right now.

She didn’t know why she told her that. She could’ve just said she had bad cramps and left it at that. But something about texting a stranger made it easier. There was no pity, no awkwardness—just words on a screen.

Unknown Number: I’m really sorry you’re going through that. That sounds awful.

Leah swallowed.

Leah: It is.

Unknown Number: I’d offer to be there, but I don’t think you’d be okay meeting me. Maybe text your friend?

Leah sighed. She could, but Beth was probably asleep by now.

Leah: Yeah. Maybe.

Unknown Number: Well, it was nice talking to you. Hope you feel better soon, whoever you are.

Leah stared at the screen. She didn’t even know this person’s name, but for some reason, she didn’t want the conversation to end.

Leah: Wait.

A few seconds passed. Then, a reply:

Unknown Number: Yeah?

Leah hesitated, then typed.

Leah: What’s your name?

Leah stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the keyboard as she debated whether to keep the conversation going. There was something about this stranger—something that made her feel at ease, even though she had no idea who she was. And it was comforting, in a way, to talk to someone who didn’t have any expectations.

Unknown Number: If you really want to know my name… well, I’m a stranger. I’m not sure why you’d want to know that.

Leah read the message, chewing on her lip. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she wanted to keep talking.

Leah: Maybe, since you don’t sound like a creep, we can keep in touch. You seem like a good person, and I’d love to have you around—even if you’re a stranger.

There was a short pause before the stranger replied.

Unknown Number: I’m glad to hear that. But, if we’re being honest, I think you should tell me your name first.

Leah hesitated, her heart picking up speed. She wasn’t sure why it felt so important, but for some reason, it did. Maybe because she didn’t want to seem like a stranger anymore, even if that was all she really was to this person.

She typed quickly, before she could second-guess herself.

Leah: It’s Leah Williamson.

There was a longer pause this time. Leah didn’t know if she should be nervous or relieved. She stared at the screen, waiting for the stranger’s response, the silence hanging in the air like a heavy weight.

Then, finally, a message came through.

Unknown Number: Oh, I’ve been talking to Leah Williamson this whole time?

Leah’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected it to be so… blunt. She felt the familiar nerves creeping up her spine.

Leah: Yeah, I guess you have. But don’t worry, I’m not one of those celebrities who goes around acting all important. I’m just… me.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately with the reply.

Unknown Number: No worries, Leah. I’m not one of those fans who goes crazy and asks for autographs. Promise.

Leah chuckled softly at that, feeling her shoulders relax. It was nice to be treated like a person, not just the public figure people assumed her to be.

Leah: Well, in that case, I feel better.

Unknown Number: I’m glad. I’m Y/n Y/l/n, by the way.

Leah smiled, feeling the weight of the conversation shift again.

Leah: Nice to meet you, Y/n.

Y/n: Nice to meet you too, Leah.

It was funny—how quickly she felt like she could be herself around this stranger, despite the distance between them. Leah glanced at her phone one last time, wondering where this unexpected connection could lead.

As the conversation with Y/n continued, Leah found herself completely immersed in it. The dull ache in her stomach that had been bothering her all evening slowly faded into the background. She wasn’t focused on her cramps anymore, not with how engaging the conversation had become. Y/n’s messages were thoughtful, funny, and easy to talk to, and for the first time in hours, Leah didn’t feel like she was completely alone.

They were talking about everything—random topics that made Leah laugh and moments that seemed so normal, so easy. Y/n’s humor was quick and clever, and Leah found herself smiling without even realizing it. She was lying back on her bed, her phone in her hand, and it felt so natural, like they had been talking for years, not just a few hours.

Then, Y/n sent something that made Leah laugh aloud, really laugh, for the first time all night.

Y/n: I once tried to make pancakes for breakfast. They turned into an unintentional flatbread instead. I swear, I’m not cut out for anything that requires a skillet.

Leah’s smile widened, and she covered her mouth in a soft chuckle. It was just so funny.

But suddenly, as the laugh died down, a wave of realization hit her. She sat up a little, shaking her head slightly. Why was she so happy?

Leah (thinking to herself): Y/n is just a stranger. You just met her over a text—why are you feeling like this?

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to pull herself back to reality, but the warmth of the conversation lingered, and that feeling in her chest wouldn’t go away.

Just then, Leah’s phone buzzed again. The message popped up, and her heart gave a little jolt.

Y/n: Hey, you okay? Is it just your pains?

Leah blinked, instantly feeling a pang of guilt. She hadn’t told Y/n the full truth about how bad her flare-up had been. She wasn’t sure why it mattered, but there was something in the way Y/n asked, something caring and attentive, that made Leah hesitate.

Leah quickly typed a response, hoping to deflect and keep things light.

Leah: Yeah, just the pains. Nothing I can’t handle.

She hit send and stared at the screen for a moment, her stomach still aching, but she forced herself to push it aside. Y/n didn’t need to know how bad it really was.

Y/n: Rest up, then. You need to take care of yourself.

Leah read the message twice, the concern in Y/n’s words wrapping around her like a warm blanket. She didn’t know why, but something about Y/n’s kindness made her heart flutter a little.

Leah (thinking to herself): Why does she care about me? I’m just some random person to her.

But deep down, Leah couldn’t ignore the feeling gnawing at her. Maybe she wasn’t just a random person anymore. Maybe she was someone Y/n genuinely wanted to help. And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t mind that at all.

The next morning, Leah walked into training with a lightness in her step that wasn’t just because the pain from her flare-up had finally subsided. No, it was something else—a feeling she couldn’t quite shake. She couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n. The conversation from last night, the way Y/n had been so kind, so effortlessly genuine. It was the first time in a while that Leah had felt so… comfortable in her own skin.

Leah’s mind wandered as she jogged through her warm-up, the thoughts of Y/n making her smile, even if she tried to hide it. A part of her felt guilty for smiling at something so trivial—after all, it was just a text conversation, right? But another part of her couldn’t help it. Y/n had been so caring and understanding, and for once, Leah didn’t feel like she was just the player or the professional. She felt like a real person.

In the changing room, Leah sat down on the bench, tying her boots, the hum of conversation around her fading into the background. She was lost in her thoughts again, her fingers working at the laces without thinking.

Then, her phone dinged.

Leah glanced at the screen, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Y/n’s name pop up. Her stomach did a little flip, and before she could think, her hand shot out to grab the phone. She wasn’t even aware of how quickly she reached for it, but the instant her fingers closed around the device, she knocked something off the bench.

“Ow! What the hell, Leah?” Katie McCabe yelled from beside her, clutching her foot.

Leah barely even registered it, her eyes glued to the message from Y/n.

Y/n: Hey Leah, hope you had some sleep. Assuming you’re training today. Hope you’re feeling better.

Leah’s heart fluttered. She read it again, just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it.

Y/n: Hope you’re feeling better.

The words were simple, but they hit her in a way she didn’t expect. Leah blinked, finally aware that Katie was still rubbing her foot beside her.

“Sorry, Katie,” Leah muttered, not really paying attention as she read the message one more time.

Katie raised an eyebrow. “You good, Lee? You’ve got that look on your face again.”

Leah barely heard her, her mind still caught up in the text she was holding.

Leah (thinking to herself): Why does she care about me? It’s just a text. But it feels like… so much more.

She shook her head slightly, trying to focus back on the present. But all she could think about now was what Y/n had said. It wasn’t just polite—it was genuine, warm.

Leah didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t want it to stop.

The rest of training passed in a blur for Leah. She tried to focus, to keep her head in the game, but her thoughts kept wandering back to Y/n. Every time she received a pass or made a play, her mind would drift back to her phone, to the message Y/n had sent, to that feeling of someone truly caring about her.

After training, Leah pulled her phone out as she was walking to the locker room. There was another message from Y/n.

Y/n: How was training? Hope it went well. I know how hard you work.

Leah smiled to herself as she typed back quickly, not even bothering to think about it too much.

Leah: It went well. Got through it, thanks for checking in.

She paused before hitting send, chewing her lip. There was a part of her that wanted to say more. A part of her that wanted to tell Y/n how much she’d appreciated the kindness she’d shown, how much her texts had meant. But she stopped herself. It was just a few messages. She couldn’t let herself get carried away.

Leah: How about you? How’s your day going?

The response came almost immediately.

Y/n: Busy, but not too bad. Glad to hear you’re doing well. Maybe we can chat again later?

Leah grinned, her heart doing that strange little flutter again.

Leah: Yeah, I’d like that.

As she slipped her phone back into her bag, Leah couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. She didn’t know where this connection with Y/n was going, but for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t afraid to see where it might lead.

Leah (thinking to herself): Maybe it’s just a wrong number. But sometimes, the wrong number can turn into something really right.

And with that, Leah left the training ground, her mind already anticipating the next conversation, and whatever this unexpected connection with Y/n might become.

[narcjsistx]

— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒 ᡣ𐭩

all the information here ; PART ONE

If there was one thing Sae couldn't stand, it was the screams of little kids. When he was a child, or so his mother said, he had only cried when he was born and when he was told he was going to be a big brother. When Rin was little he rarely cried, so he hadn't had the problem of enduring the sleepless nights that his classmates with younger siblings talked about during recess. He had heard that noise so few times that the few times it had happened he had hated it with all his heart

So when he was called into the hospital on a random (or maybe not so random) morning with the news that the son he knew absolutely nothing about had been born, he had the opportunity to hear all the cries of the babies in the ward. This made him reevaluate why he fell for such a clear and simple scam. When he entered the room and saw the face of the woman he had shamelessly fucked exactly 9 months before, he understood that it was not a scam but the actual reality

When he noticed the baby in the crib he couldn't help but notice the Itoshi family mark, the inevitable eyelashes. A tag near the child already showed that he belonged to Sae's family, the surname "Itoshi" accompanied by the name "Tanzeku". He didn't know what to say, really in difficulty in front of the situation he had in front of him: he remembered having used a condom that night, and above all he remembered not having been contacted in the slightest by anyone during the alleged pregnancy. He wasn't a heartless person, maybe a bitch but not mean. If he had known about this child before maybe now he would be less traumatized or speechless, he would at least know what to say to the mother whose name he doesn't even remember

"I have to graduate in a month. I hate this baby with all my heart but aborting it didn't seem like the most sensible option, especially since I found out too late" says the woman, making Sae turn around in surprise "Oh" he says. The woman struggles out of bed, walking towards Sae "I know he’s yours, I think you’ve noticed too. I’ve already written that I have no rights over him, he’s your responsibility from now on. You want to raise him? Do it. You want to put him in an orphanage? Do it. He’s yours" says the woman, taking the baby from the cradle and putting him in her arms "Don't think of me as heartless... I don't hate him because he is him, but because he was born at the wrong time and above all from a person I don't know" she says lowering her gaze, cradling the baby

Sae watches the scene quite confused. He is 20 years old, at the moment he is at the top of his soccer life after winning the Champions League exactly 9 months ago. But in 20 years of life he has never had a girlfriend, and at the moment it is not even his main concern. He does not even have a family, more or less. Privately, he's still the same guy who left Japan almost 7 years ago, just with a random fuck that evidently gave its results. Raising a child is something that has never crossed his mind, and right now doing so would be almost impossible with the life he leads, always traveling for some special match or training session. But in the teal eyes of the child he recognizes Rin, who as a child was like his son. He recognizes himself in his mother's arms when soccer was not yet part of his life

"Give him to me" he says, gesturing to the woman to pass him the baby. She looks up, handing him over almost immediately. Sae has rarely held babies, and is struggling to pick him up without his hands shaking. He holds the child trying to remain as serious as possible, but for some reason a storm is going on inside him. The woman goes back to the bed, where she picks up some suitcases "Like I said, do what you want with him. I won't bother coming back anytime soon to ask for money... I don't need it. I don't need him and I don't need you" she says as she picks up her clothes. Sae doesn't even bother hearing her speak, holding the baby and thinking seriously about what to do with him. The door slams and turning around, the boy notices that he is left alone with his new son

Sae lowers his gaze, looking at the little Tanzeku: the light hairs on his head are reddish, another sign that he is definitely his son. Even though he has more or less accepted the responsibility of this child, Sae knows perfectly well that being a father is something he is not meant to do. Even as a child he never saw himself as his father, who always idolized him as a prodigy. Yet now he had a child that only he and his mother, who had just gone permanently, knew existed. Putting him in an orphanage wasn't even an option, but what he could do?

He would never have stopped playing soccer just for this kid, especially now that he was in his prime. He would never have revealed the existence of this kid, who would probably ruin the image he had built up over the years. But he couldn't take care of him alone, he knew perfectly well that he needed help

The only option was to find someone. Someone to pay to fill a role that he didn't feel was his. Someone like a babysitter

TAGLIST: @lincqx ; @irethepotato ; @nevvynev ; @vaelils ; @levihanmyotp ; @lil-lia12 ; @princesssae ; @chuurinnie ; @llearlert ; @medd2005 ; @captainshindo ; @inojinieeee ; @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee ; @rroxii ; @heartbrii ; @cellephone ; @simp-for-wanderer ; @beepbopzlorp ; @sugurus-star ; @chiizuyu ; @tenjikusstuff4 ; @syleepy ; @saeris-world ; @s4-mmy ; @itsssyagurll ; @ar1sc0rn3r ; @tsukimoon-chan ; @90s-belladonna ; @kiokos ; @appl3-0rchard ; @linsay0 ; @certifiedyapperrrr ; @werfiedeii ; @mariaelizabeh21-blog1 ; @ann242629 ; @vashyuu ; @pjofics ; @dontmindtheevie ; @otakusimp1

[junezsq]

dance practice

harry potter x fem!reader

summary: professor mcgonagall’s dance class suddenly gets interesting when you have to dance with your best friend turned crush

warnings: none really? triwizard champion things

word count: 1.5k

a/n: p1 of this small 3 part yule ball storyline (within my storyline) i came up with,,, can you tell where it is leading after this part? hope you enjoy x

── ᵎᵎ ✦

the air was thick with a mixture of nervous energy and excitement as you sat in the hogwarts great hall, awaiting professor mcgonagall's instructions. the long tables had been pushed to the side to clear a space for whatever you and your housemates would undoubtedly have to practice. you were seated next to hermione, with the other gryffindor girls, on one side of the hall, while all the boys were seated opposite you.

the humongous horn stood in the middle of the hall had immediately caught your eye the moment you’d entered. the castle’s caretaker, mr. filch was fumbling with the sound while mcgonagall spoke, “the yule ball has been a tradition of the triwizard tournament since its inception.”

mr. filch stopped the static at professor mcgonagall’s sharp words, “on christmas eve night, we and our guests gather in the great hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity.”

“as representatives of the host school, i expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward.” while hermione was listening eagerly you couldn’t help but let your thoughts drift.

your gaze flickered to harry, who was sat on the opposite side of the hall. he was still sporting a sling on his arm after his brush with the dragon in the first triwizard task; it made your heart twist a little.

“…and i mean this literally, because the yule ball is, first and foremost, a dance.” mcgonagall’s words immediately caused an uproar in chatter amongst your housemates. hermione nudged you, her lips curling into a grin, but before she could utter a word your professor’s voice rang throughout the hall, “silence!”

“the house of godric gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly 10 centuries. i will not have you in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons.”

mcgonagall had been one of your favorite professors ever since starting at hogwarts, and luckily enough she was your head of house too; she was one of the most strict professors at hogwarts, but she was also kind and caring. “now, to dance is to let the body breathe. inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight.”

you smiled at her words, she was an incredible storyteller also, “inside every boy a lordly lion prepared to prance.” from the other side of the hall, ron’s chuckles echoed and filled the room. you glanced at him and harry the moment professor mcgonagall turned towards him, “mr. weasley.”

“yes?”

“will you join me, please?”

your eyes widened, glancing to hermione at your side. she looked over at you with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement. you both tried to suppress your laughter, but it was impossible not to find the idea of ron attempting to dance with professor mcgonagall particularly hilarious.

ron, who seemed blissfully unaware of your shared amusement, stood up awkwardly and followed mcgonagall to the center of the floor. “now, place your right hand on my waist.”

“where?” the redhead asked with wide eyes.

“my waist, and extend your arm.” one of the boys from your house whistled as professor mcgonagall tried to show ron the steps, “mr. filch, if you please.”

the caretaker turned on the music, which started playing through the horn, and you watched — trying your utmost best not to laugh — as professor mcgonagall and ron waltzed through the great hall. “one, two, three.”

you glanced across the hall, catching harry’s eye; he was watching his best friend with an amused look. when your gaze met his, you couldn’t help but smile, your stomach fluttering. harry raised an eyebrow at you, a knowing grin playing at the corners of his mouth, and for a second, it felt like you were the only two people in the room.

“everybody come together! boys, on your feet”

and just like that your view of harry was blocked by your housemates, all enthusiastic to find a boy to dance with. you groaned inwardly, dreading the process of finding a partner. after looking around the room and not being able to spot anyone who looked like they were itching to dance with you, you decided to stand up and take matters into your own hands.

why was this so complicated?

you walked around slowly, trying to keep your cool while you were still searching for a partner. you bumped into a few of your housemates, but no one seemed to be looking for a dance partner. the panic of not being able to find someone started to rise, but then you collided with someone.

“sorry!” you blurted, looking up to see none other than harry potter himself standing right in front of you. you felt your heart leap into your throat, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. “oh, harry!”

“it’s alright,” harry offered you a smile. the sling on his arm shifted slightly and he winced, trying to adjust it without causing too much discomfort. “i guess we’re both a bit lost, huh?”

you blinked, the words coming back to you as you smiled. “yeah, looks like it. you’re, um, you’re sure you’re up for this? with the sling and all?”

harry glanced at his arm and shrugged, “i’m not exactly a dancing expert anyway. what’s the worst that could happen?” his grin was cheeky, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “well, you might trip on your own feet, but I’m sure you’ll manage.”

harry raised his eyebrows playfully, “i’ll try to avoid that, then,” he quickly stepped into position with you. his left arm rested a bit awkwardly, but he seemed determined to make it work. you, on the other hand, couldn’t help but notice how close you were to him now. his presence was comforting, though, and the awkwardness that had been gnawing at you slowly began to fade.

“alright, let’s do this,” harry spoke, his voice calm but just a little nervous. he held his left arm out so you could slip your hand into his, feeling the warmth of his touch. the music was still softly playing in the background as you both began to move, a bit clumsily at first. harry was trying his best to lead, but with one arm tied up in a sling, it was clear he was struggling.

when he stepped on your foot you giggled softly, “you know, you’re not really making this easy on yourself.”

harry grimaced, trying to shift his weight without jarring his injured arm, “i didn’t exactly have a choice. how am i supposed to dance like this?” he gave you a mock glare, but his eyes were sparkling with amusement. “you’re not going to hold it against me if i trip again, are you?”

“of course not,” you grinned. “i’m sure i’ll trip too.”

as you continued the dance, it became a little easier. you both stumbled through the steps, but it was definitely way more fun than either of you expected. you found yourself laughing at how ridiculous it was, and harry’s laughter, free and light, made everything feel a little less serious.

“so,” harry spoke up, pulling you out of your concentration, “yule ball, huh? got a date yet?”

you blinked, surprised by the question. your heart started racing in an entirely different way now. “no,” you answered, trying to keep it casual. “i haven’t really thought about it. to be honest, i’m not sure i could find someone who doesn’t make me want to run in the other direction,” you joked lightly, trying to mask the slight blush creeping up your neck.

harry chuckled, “fair enough. i haven’t exactly been rushing to find a date either.” he looked at you, his face thoughtful. “since, you know, it’s not just the ball that’s on my mind.“

you nodded sympathetically, “i understand, but maybe it won’t be so bad. you can at least relax for a bit, right?”

“i guess so. it’s just… weird, you know?

“you’ve been doing really great, harry.” your eyes gazed over his features as you spoke, “i’m proud of you, already, and it’s only been te first task.”

a grateful smile grew on the ravenette’s lips, “thanks.”

you continued to move through the steps, the conversation flowing easily. harry seemed more at ease now, and you were glad to be able to help.

when the music came to an end, so did your and harry’s slightly amateur dance moves. harry grinned, looking down at his sling. “well, i didn’t trip. that’s a win, right?”

you laughed, your chest light with amusement. “definitely a win, and hey, we didn’t break anything.”

“yet.” harry’s grin slightly turned into a small smirk, “we didn’t didn’t break anything, yet.”

you stepped away from each other, still chuckling, and you realized you’d had a lot more fun than you expected. maybe dancing wasn’t so terrible after all — especially when you were sharing it with someone like harry.

as you watched him join the other boys, you couldn’t help but feel that little flutter in your chest again. the yule ball, it seemed, might be a lot more interesting than you thought.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

SOUNDTRACK // close to you, gracie abrams

TAGLIST // @callsigncrushx @moonjellyfishie @pussyslayerhd @accio-mayachhiato @ezrafrss @iyskgd @bakugouswaif

[shotmrmiller]

Now that it’s getting warmer, there’s more bikers out which has fueled my interest in them

Which leads me to ask, if so, which of the 141 are/were bikers

And not Harley Davidson lol I don’t really like those grandpas. I’m biased tho cuz I’m in my early 20s srry

i don't know dick about bikes but kyle tears through the roads on something sleek and fast like a ducati. he's an adrenaline junkie. even named it speed demon.

price rides his ol' reliable (triumph bonneville because it's✨ baby ✨)

ghost rides a confederate hellcat (it looks intimidating as shit lmao)

and soap-- soap doesn't ride anything that hasn't got 4 doors. he channels his ma in this area. he'll have a near heart attack when he sees kyle roar off without putting his helmet on. he gets on their case whenever the guys don't prioritize their safety. (and don't get him started on the lack of padded jacket on simon.)

also ghost has a little ghost rider bike keychain because it's so bad it's cute.

[wroetolando]

𝙰 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚃𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 | 𝙲𝙻𝟷𝟼

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: charles leclerc x vet!reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: the one where charles keeps finding excuses to bring leo to the vet

𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰: had to be you - isaac gracie

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: small mention of vomit?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The morning had been a blur of appointments, back-to-back checkups, and the occasional emergency. You had barely gotten a moment to sit down before your assistant poked her head into your office, eyes wide with something between excitement and amusement.

“You have a new client,” she said, voice oddly giddy.

You sighed, pushing away the clipboard in your lap. “Alright, what are we looking at?”

She bit back a smile. “You should probably see for yourself.”

With a suspicious glance, you stood and made your way into the waiting room, expecting yet another anxious pet owner with a hyperactive dog or a sneaky cat who had eaten something it shouldn’t have. What you did not expect was to come face-to-face with Charles Leclerc—Formula 1 driver, international celebrity, and, at this moment, a very concerned pet owner.

He stood at the reception desk, cradling a miniature longhaired dachshund in his arms. The little dog was curled into himself, his long ears drooping, eyes looking dull with discomfort.

You quickly pushed aside your surprise, your vet instincts kicking in. “Come with me,” you said, already leading him toward an exam room.

Charles followed without hesitation, his jaw tight as he placed the tiny dachshund on the exam table. His hands lingered protectively around the dog as if he couldn’t bear to be too far away.

“What’s his name?” you asked, running gentle hands over the dog’s small frame.

“Leo,” Charles answered, voice softer than before. “He hasn’t been eating much, and he’s been really tired. He just… he’s not acting like himself.”

You nodded, your fingers carefully checking for any abnormalities. Leo let out a small whimper when you pressed lightly against his belly.

“He’s a little bloated,” you murmured, reaching for a stethoscope. “Has he gotten into anything unusual? New treats? Different food?”

Charles frowned. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Any vomiting?”

“A little, yeah. Yesterday.”

You hummed in thought, continuing your examination. Leo’s symptoms weren’t severe, but they weren’t nothing, either. After a few more tests, you straightened up and met Charles’s worried gaze.

“It looks like Leo has a mild case of gastritis,” you explained gently. “Basically, his stomach is irritated—probably from something he ate or just a bit of stress.”

Charles exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “So… it’s not serious?”

“Not at all,” you reassured him with a small smile. “I’ll give you some medication to help settle his stomach, and you’ll want to feed him something bland for the next couple of days—boiled chicken, rice, that sort of thing.”

Relief washed over his features, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Thank you,” he murmured, looking down at Leo, stroking a gentle hand over his fur.

You scribbled a few instructions on a notepad before handing it to him. “Keep an eye on him. If he gets worse, bring him back. Otherwise, he should be back to normal in a couple of days.”

Charles took the paper, but instead of standing to leave, he lingered.

“…You’re really good at this,” he said after a moment.

You chuckled. “It’s my job.”

“No, I mean… I can tell you really care,” he added, his gaze lingering on you. “That’s rare.”

You felt warmth creep up your neck but brushed it off with a smile. “Well, I do. Especially when it comes to little guys like Leo.”

Charles looked at you for a beat longer before finally nodding. “Thank you. Really.”

And then, just like that, he was gone.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The Second Visit

It had been a week since you last saw Charles Leclerc, and you hadn’t expected to see him again so soon. But sure enough, there he was—standing at the front desk, Leo in his arms, looking just as concerned as the first time.

You raised an eyebrow as you walked over. “Everything okay?”

He shifted his weight slightly, clearing his throat. “Uh, yeah… I think so. But Leo sneezed three times in a row this morning.”

You stared at him. “…He sneezed?”

Charles nodded, completely serious.

Suppressing a smile, you gestured for him to follow you into an exam room. Once inside, you gave Leo a quick once-over. The little dachshund was perfectly fine. No fever, no congestion—nothing.

“Charles,” you said slowly, crossing your arms. “Leo is fine.”

He hesitated. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A pause. Then, a realization.

“…I overreacted, didn’t I?”

You laughed softly. “Just a little.”

He let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. “I swear, I was never this paranoid before.”

You grinned. “That’s what happens when you love something.”

Charles looked at you, something unreadable flickering across his face. And then, to your surprise, he smiled—a real, genuine smile.

“…Guess I’ll see you next time Leo sneezes, then.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but laugh. “Looking forward to it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The Third Visit

The next time Charles showed up, he didn’t even pretend that it was an emergency.

You were finishing up with another patient when your assistant leaned in, barely holding back a grin.

“He’s back,” she whispered.

You didn’t have to ask who.

When you walked into the waiting area, Charles was standing there, Leo looking as healthy as ever in his arms.

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “Alright, what is it this time?”

He shrugged, far too casual. “Just wanted to make sure Leo’s, you know… still healthy.”

You gave him a look. “You mean you just wanted an excuse to come back?”

Charles smirked. “Maybe.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

He grinned, shifting Leo in his arms. “You can’t blame me. Leo likes you.”

You arched a brow. “Leo likes me?”

Charles hesitated. “…Okay, fine. I like you.”

Your breath hitched slightly, caught off guard by his honesty. But before you could respond, Charles continued, his voice softer now.

“I don’t usually do things like this,” he admitted. “But I’ve been looking for an excuse to see you again. And I figured… why not use the best wingman I have?”

You glanced down at Leo, who was wagging his tiny tail as if he knew exactly what was happening.

With a small smile, you shook your head. “You could’ve just asked for my number, you know.”

Charles chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… but where’s the fun in that?”

You sighed dramatically but grabbed a sticky note anyway, jotting down your number before handing it to him. “Next time, just text me. No need to pretend Leo has a life-threatening case of the sniffles.”

He took the note, grinning. “I make no promises.”

As he walked out—this time much slower than before—you had the distinct feeling that this was only the beginning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

masterlist

[unwri-ten]

pls.. crumbs of your arcane oc… pls

Arcane OC Crumbs!! 💥💥💥

Named Xea, they're a Zaun-born informant that works with Babette's (The Brothel) to smuggle information from Topside using their connections as an enforcer of Piltover. Because of their (claimed) relations to the former sheriff, Grayson, this also gave them grounds to form a strictly transactional bond with the Kiramman family (exceptions for their only daughter). There's a lot about them worth talking about like their origins, their family, the deal that lead to them being (not really) related to Grayson and my ideas for them and the arcane-

And that's not even starting the conversation about their relationships with other main characters in the show PFFF- I'll be adding more along since I have more art to make >:))! Hope this is enough for crumbs atm!!

[robinminustherichard]

"The 36 Questions That Lead to Love"

A BuckTommy fix it

T | 13k Words

Read below or on A03

Summary:

After Tommy reads the entire article, he decides that he has to wait at least until his next day off to confront Evan about trying to sneak-lead him to love with a New York Times article from 2015.

Tommy learns a lot about Buck, a little bit about himself, and enough to know that he never should have walked away.

Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?

Evan texts Tommy the question on a Wednesday in the afternoon, likely when Evan is on a shift and Tommy is taking a five minute break from yard work. He hesitates for a moment with his reply, unsure of the goal here. Knowing Evan, there's no way he sent it to Tommy by mistake, but he's still feeling a bit like a coward after his latest dead-tilt sprint away from love, so he tries to wiggle out of this anyway.

Did you mean to send that to me? Is what he goes with. Evan takes barely any time at all to reply, and with a wave of frustration-guilt-dread spreading from the crown of his head to his finger tips, Tommy reads Evan's short and blunt reply of Of course I did, Tommy. and tries to come up with something to say that effectively shuts this down yet isn't rude.

I don't know, Evan. Are you sure you want to be talking to me?

This reply takes longer than five seconds so Tommy slips his phone back into his pocket and puts it out of his mind in favor of starting up his lawn mower. It's more than ten minutes later that he feels his phone vibrate again in his pocket while doing a sharp turn at the edge of his grass, but he's determined to finish so it's another thirty minutes on top of that before he answers.

And another ten minutes on top of that because Tommy puts off looking at what he's sure will finally be an acceptance of Tommy's inherent terribleness and Evan giving up on him; and heads inside for the afternoon.

Tommy's wrong, of course, because when has he ever been right about Evan Buckley when it comes to Tommy?

If I wasn't sure I wanted to be talking to you, I'm sure I would have texted someone else. Eddie's name isn't even close to yours in my contacts.

It stings, a bit, but damn if it doesn't make a laugh punch it's way out of Tommy's throat too. Evan is sweet, immeasurably so, but if there's one thing Tommy has managed to do it's drag Evan down to his level now and then.

He's surprised that Evan hasn't double-texted him in the time it's taken Tommy to pluck up the courage to look at the message, and Tommy has to admit that he's a little impressed by the courage Evan's showcasing here. He takes a second to think about an answer to Evan's original question before typing it out, Colonel John Dewalt, and sends it. Evan’s reply is instantaneous.

Military pal?

Tommy breathes out harshly, walking to the sink to grab a glass of water.

He taught me to fly. Haven’t seen or heard from him since I left service.

Cool

Tommy chugs the water and waits, but Evan doesn’t respond. Hours pass and when Tommy is sitting down to a sad dinner for one of chicken and broccoli, he almost considers asking Evan what he really wanted. He doesn’t, and Evan doesn’t send anything more.

It’s two days later that Tommy hears from Evan again, another question out of the blue with no explanation and no lead up.

Would you like to be famous? In what way?

This question is possibly weirder than the first, Tommy thinks, but he finds himself responding anyway. He’s off again today and his yard is done, he finished re-tiling the kitchen backsplash, and he’s kind of bored out of his mind sitting on his couch and watching reruns of Naked and Afraid.

God, no. I don’t even have social media.

Evan types for longer than expected on this one, but his response makes Tommy snort.

Yeah, I think I actually could have guessed that one.

Tommy waits for more, for another question, for an answer. When none comes, he feels the frustration of their last conversation and this weird communication slam into him--he impulsively types out a message and hits send before he can second guess himself.

What are you doing, Evan?

Again, Evan doesn’t respond. Tommy doesn’t even see the little dots on his screen that Evan is thinking about replying.

Tommy doesn’t know what to do with that, so he gets up and goes to the garage to find something to do with his hands. He leaves his phone on the coffee table.

The next question is the first one that Tommy doesn’t get the chance to answer for several hours because it arrives in the middle of back-to-back medevacs and paperwork that Tommy doesn’t get a minute of peace during. When he finally is sitting down to eat dinner before he drives home, Tommy is scrolling through his phone and sees that he has one new text. He must have swiped away the notification at some point earlier and forgotten about it.

Before making a telephone call, do you rehearse what you’re going to say? Why?

The question gives him pause, and he can’t help but send one back.

Do people actually do that?

Yes, it’s pretty popular online.

Armed with that baffling answer, Tommy looks over to where one of the younger mechanics is waiting for a truly heinous looking Hot Pocket to finish heating up in the microwave.

“Felix,” He calls, voice rough from being so tired, “Question. Do you rehearse what you’re going to say on the phone before you make a call?”

“To like, doctors and shit?” Felix says, glancing at him before hearing the ding of the microwave and fishing his Hot Pocket out; taking too big of a bite without even attempting to let it cool. Tommy grimaces. “Yeah man, I hate phone calls. They’re the worst.”

“Interesting.” Tommy says, contemplating this as Felix continues to methodically inhale the Hot Pocket. “Why?”

“Dunno. They’re just weird.” Is all Tommy gets before Felix gets called by the head mechanic and races off across the hanger. ‘See ya!”

“Bye.” Tommy calls after him, and looks down at his cellphone. Once again, there’s nothing more coming through from Evan.

The next text technically comes in the next day, but it’s a near thing since Tommy’s phone buzzes at 12:08 AM with it. Normally he wouldn’t be awake, but the shift had really taken it out of him and he stupidly fell asleep on the couch at 7:30 PM. Now he’s watching Naked and Afraid again, contemplating if he wants to work out or just go straight to the shower and try to go back to sleep.

What would constitute a perfect day for you?

This one, admittedly, throws Tommy a bit. Is Evan fishing? Does he want Tommy to say a day with you? What is Tommy supposed to say to that?

Like, a day off or?

Is that your answer?

No, that’s me begging for literally any clarification or context about why you keep asking me these questions.

Tommy sighs, watching someone he didn’t catch the name of catch a fish and celebrate it, blurred out body parts flashing across the screen. Evan doesn’t respond, and Tommy stops himself from send another, sure to be bitchier, second text. He gives up and grabs the remote, turning the TV off and stretching as he stands. There’s no way a shower is going to put him to sleep if Evan Buckley is on his mind; and while jerking off in the shower usually works he doesn’t want to go sadly jerk off about his ex, so he resigns himself to a half-hour workout at midnight on his Peloton.

He moves quickly to his bedroom, plugging his phone into the charger by his nightstand and slipping into the sneakers he keeps by the machine in the corner of the room. He’ll just do a solo-ride, no videos, and he won’t think about Evan one bit for the next thirty minutes.

He fails wildly, of course, and by the time he’s done on the bike he’s just mad, so instead of a sad jerk off in the shower, it’s a frustrated one. Eventually though he’s scrubbed himself clean and stared at the tile long enough that he can confidently get into bed and be ready to fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillows around 2:15 AM. It’s when his mind is going foggy does he realize with sharp clarity that he never answered the question.

He groans into the quiet and stillness of his bedroom before reaching a hand over to grab at his phone and type out a response.

A morning flight with no emergency attached to it. A Faceplant Burrito from Hellbender’s. Live music at a bar near my house, two drafts while I’m there. Finding out the Lakers won. Sex, TV, then in bed by 11:30.

Sleep is pulling at him harder than before, so he sends off the text without thinking too much about it and falls asleep when he sets his phone back down.

In the morning, and for a day-and-a-half after that, there are no further messages.

When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?

The latest text comes in while he’s working out at Harbor, and he reads up until When did you last sing... while finishing his set of pushups. He rolls his eyes and lets his phone go dark, counting out his set before he drops to his elbows on the mat and drags the phone towards himself.

You know I don’t sing is what he decides to send back, not letting himself get sucked into the insanity of this again. Evan will give up eventually, he decides, nodding to himself and his maturity in this.

Well now that’s not true. This only works if you tell the truth, Tommy.

Actually, fuck maturity.

What works? What do you mean not true? I think I would know if I was lying about this

I heard you singing while you were making me breakfast, when I dislocated my shoulder. Is that the answer to both then?

Air hisses out of Tommy’s teeth and his face heats up.

You were clearly on painkillers and hallucinating

I don’t think you hallucinate while on ibuprofen

Damn Evan, never letting him get away with it. He doubles down anyway.

Maybe it was Billy Boils haunting you

A man who died over a century ago was haunting me by singing ‘The Dance’ by Garth Brooks?

Tommy let his head fall to the mat, and just breathed in the unfortunate scent of sweat and gym equipment as self-punishment for his unfortunate moment of thinking about Dale Earnhardt that day and getting himself caught singing along to the youtube video of the memorial he had found while waiting for the mashed avocado to set. And for falling for, and failing to run from, a man with a steel trap for a memory and a bratty streak a mile wide.

I am taking that as your answer then.

Tommy’s convinced that the second question, which comes bright and early the next day at 6 AM while Tommy is struggling to wake himself up out of the bunk room at harbor, was sent as some sort of psychological torture device.

If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?

And, like, what the fuck Evan? It’s 6:30 AM, is what Tommy thinks. And what Tommy sends back.

It’s okay, take your time. I’m sure as soon as your coffee with seven sugars kicks in you’ll be fine.

Tommy spits out said coffee when he reads that, and sends back six to be petty.

Oh, did you do the caramel creamer then?

Tommy glares at the text, and then glares at said creamer where it’s still sitting on the counter.

When the coffee does indeed kick in and he’s got a few minutes waiting for the shower to warm up before he hops in, Tommy decides he’ll try a new tactic and just be annoying to try and get Evan to finally break.

What happens when I turn 91? I lose the mind and body?

How about a 100 year old with the mind of a 50 year old?

If I choose body do I have to hide from the government because I don’t age?

Tommy lays his phone down and gets in the shower, content to let Evan stew over his texts.

He is, of course, annoyed himself when after the shower there’s no response. It’s worse when an hour of helicopter maintenance passes with no response. It’s the worst when a total of half a shift has gone by and Evan never rose to the bait. Tommy cracks when he’s packing up his stuff to head home for four straight days off and three on call.

Fine. Body of a 30 year old. They won’t let me fly with a 90 year old body.

That finally gets him a response, and he scoffs, but a part of him knows that Evan has also been on shift and is relieved.

Sorry, massive pile up, had to get a lot of bodies out of cars. I’m not surprised by that answer.

Tommy pauses and swallows down whatever response he was going to immediately come up with. He hesitates a moment, but sends back a quick You alright? and sighs when all he gets is a I’m good in response.

The next questions all arrive quickly together, as if it’s the first time in a while that Evan has had time to sit down and send them. There isn’t much discussion between the answers, but a few bring out more than just another question from Evan. Over two days he reads them and reels from them and answers them and still has no idea to what end this is all hurtling towards.

Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?

Probably in some convoluted scheme made up by my old coworkers he tries for levity.

Name three things you and I appear to have in common. this is the first one that really brings Evan into it, so Tommy tries to be extra careful on that one and not give himself away too much.

We both are firefighters, we both came out later in life, we both love a Farmer’s Market.

For what in your life do you feel most grateful? this one, on the heels of no response on the last one, gets his hackles up.

The house that I own is his response. It garners no reply.

He’s out at a bar with a few guys who go to his Muay Thai gym when the next few come in.

If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?

That one socks him in the chest. Everything slips from his mind to his fingers and is sent off into the world before he can stop it. The next two don’t let him up from his place pinned under a microscope, studied and exposed.

In four sentences tell me your life story in as much detail as possible.

I was born in Washington state, outside of Olympia, but grew up closer to Seattle in a suburb. I’ve been gay a long time but my father would have beaten the shit out of me if he knew. I joined the military and it really fucking sucked under Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I landed in LA at a shitty fire house that isn’t shitty anymore and I led a woman on up until an engagement and then transferred houses and things got better but things got quieter too.

He made a mistake about an hour ago of having a third beer, and it’s loosening him just enough to be reckless with his responses. He knows he shouldn’t, this is his ex, they aren’t even dating anymore; what is Tommy doing handing the codes for his destruction over? What is Evan doing to him?

Evan must decide to have mercy on him, because despite typing for a long time after that, what comes through is just another question.

If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?

Tommy laughs, feeling like he’s going to cry, and puts a hand up to the bartender to settle his tab.

The ability to be a better person

After that, Tommy doesn’t hear from Evan for four days. He thinks he’s finally done it--finally convinced Evan that he just isn’t worth it.

Tommy’s been trying to forget about his embarrassing vulnerability when he overhears something that stops him in his tracks. He’s working on some routine checks in his helicopter and there’s two of the mechanics working on the engine. One of them, Alice, is giving advice to James, who always seems to be in the middle of a fight with his wife.

“I’m telling you, try it man. It worked for me and Felicia,” Alice is saying while James is shaking his head.

“I don’t know,” he says, reaching into the engine and tightening something or other, “If they’re questions that lead to love wouldn’t I already be past them?”

“Nah, they’re more than that,” Alice says, talking around a wrench that she’d stuck in her mouth while she reaches for something else in their tool kit, “it’s about learning new things, things you never thought to ask. Like, one of the questions is this weird one about whether or not you would choose to have the body or mind of a thirty year old for sixty years. It’s about asking them things that lead to bigger conversations, so you learn about them and learn to love them deep down.”

“I don’t know, Al, I think deep down she might hate me more.”

Tommy feels like some thick and viscous is pouring over him from the top down, and he stumbles out of the helicopter, almost braining himself on the door.

“Whoa, Kinard, you good?” James asks, reaching out a hand to steady him. James and Alice are both looking at him with concern, and he shakes his head and tries to give them a smile but knows it’s probably pretty grim and not very reassuring.

“Yeah, sorry, totally fine. What, uh, what are you guys talking about?” He asks, aiming for nonchalant and landing somewhere between crazed and desperate.

“Uh,” Alice starts, pulling the wrench from her mouth and wiping her wrist across her lips. “I was telling James about this New York Times article I read a few years back called 36 Questions that Lead to Love . They’re these questions that you ask someone you’re with, or I guess want to be with, in order to get to know them better. Me and my girlfriend did them and there were some good conversations, ya know?”

Tommy is nodding, already pulling his phone out of his flight suit and googling.

“Wow, that is so interesting, Alice. I am definitely going to check those out. Thank you.”

Before she can respond, he’s booking it for the break room and clicking on the link that Google pulls up.

After Tommy reads the entire article, he decides that he has to wait at least until his next day off to confront Evan about trying to sneak-lead him to love with a New York Times article from 2015.

Luckily, Evan never stopped sharing his calendar, so Tommy knows that his second day off lines up with one where Evan has a shift starting at 4 PM.

Tommy knows that on 4 PM shift days, Evan works out in the mornings, eats breakfast, showers, and then spends the rest of the afternoon cleaning until he has to leave at 3 PM to make it to the station on time and give himself a buffer to change and settle in before the shift change. Tommy times it just right and calls him at 2:35 PM.

“Uh, hello? Tommy?” Evan answers with uncertainty. His voice is low and slow and Tommy has gone too long without sex because hearing three words from his ex should not make him slightly horny. He shakes himself and focuses, speaking clearly without so much as a hello.

“If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If Buck is surprised that Tommy’s found him out, he doesn’t show it. He answers automatically and without hesitation.

“What’s my purpose when the whole reason I was born didn’t work? Like, what do you do when your supposed purpose gets shot to hell before you turn two?”

“In true Evan Buckley fashion, he has rendered Tommy a little speechless. But in true Tommy Kinard fashion he dredges something up to say. It’s not very elegant, but it works.

“Jesus Christ, kid.”

“Kid, huh? Haven’t heard that one in a while, Daddy.”

“Okay, you never called me Daddy so don’t you dare start now.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

“There’s quiet for a moment, Evan is clearly doing the dishes in the background. Staying on theme with this whole thing, Tommy caves first.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re asking me the 36 questions that lead to love?”

“I would, but you chose to call me twenty minutes before I needed to leave for my shift. I don’t think we’ve got enough time.”

“Evan--”

“Oops, now we’re down to five minutes and I’ve got to grab my bag. Why don’t you ask me later?”

“Before he has a chance to argue, Evan hangs up. Tommy is left just as confused and frustrated as he was before, but unfortunately much more horny.

A few hours later, the next question in “Set II” of the 36 questions arrives on his phone. Tommy debates just flat out calling Evan to argue with him some more, but Tommy knew before and is really starting to accept that if Evan Buckley really wants something, he’s going to chase it doggedly until he’s given an absolute no. And Tommy knows himself enough that he can’t lie and say that he wants to give out that absolute no.

Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?

Now at least the element of surprise is gone--Tommy has read through all of the questions at least four times and has spent time thinking about how he would answer them. This one was easy.

Fly coast to coast in a helicopter. I haven’t done it because it’s stupid expensive and the paperwork is insane.

While he’s resigned to answering the questions, he can’t ignore the fact that Evan’s answer had brought him right back to the moment when they first decided to give it a second shot and they had admitted that they barely knew anything about each other. He’s just sitting around on his couch with Ice Road Truckers on, so he pulls up the article again and sends the next question.

What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

Becoming a firefighter, no competition. I was pretty aimless before that, didn’t really have any accomplishments.

Not graduating high school or college?

High school graduation in Hershey, Pennsylvania was boring. Penn State Harrisburg was only subjected to me for less than a year.

Tommy had had no idea whether or not Evan had went to college, and definitely didn’t realize it was Penn State.

Nittany Lions, huh? What even is that

Not sure, they didn’t exactly discuss the mascot origins at parties

Tommy thinks about digging further, but he’s gotten the impression that they aren’t really doing that, so he holds off on his curiosity and anticipates the next question so much that he’s a little annoyed it takes three hours to receive it. They must have had a call.

What do you value most in a friendship?

The ability to take a joke

No wonder you and Eddie got along so well, you both love bullying me.

I don’t know if bullying is the word.

Tommy’s a bit surprised Evan is bringing up Eddie in a friendship lens after Tommy accused him of being in love with the guy.

No, I think bullying is accurate. I do know my best friend pretty well. Not biblically, but. Pretty well.

There it is.

Okay, yeah. I deserved that.

What do you mean? I just want to make it clear, since I have to with everyone apparently, that I’ve never had nor wanted to bone my best friend.

No, no, keep it coming. Punish me baby.

So sue him, he gets testy when he’s being insulted and Ice Road Truckers is really boring.

Ask the next question, asshole.

Tommy, probably for once in his life, lets it go. He sends question number 17 next.

What is your most treasured memory?

Evan types for a while, and then stops typing long enough that it’s clear that he’s gotten caught up in something outside of his phone. Tommy is halfway done with the crossword in the NYT games app when he finally gets a response that reads like the introduction to a novel.

When I worked on a ranch, there was this horse that was being rehabilitated after it was rescued from an abusive situation. It wouldn’t let anyone near it, humans or other horses. It was making its recovery really difficult because it kept injuring itself by pulling away from the trainers and veterinarians, and half the time it was too scared to eat. One day I was writing my usual postcard to Maddie on this big rock near its private fenced in area, and I wasn’t paying any attention--I was mid word when the horse had snuck up on me and sniffed me so hard it knocked the cowboy hat off my head. After that, the horse was stuck to me from sun up to sun down; and it would let the doctors and the trainers near it if I was there. It ate if I sat next to it, it let me brush it and eventually let me ride it. The owner of the ranch told me she had never seen anything like it, and that if I ever wanted to come back I’d have a place there.

Tommy feels a little floored, reading the message. It wasn’t hard to imagine Evan working on a ranch with a cowboy hat on his head, out on a prairie somewhere with a scared horse following him around and learning to ask for care. Tommy doesn’t quite know what to say, and he doesn’t like the direction that particular train of thought is taking him in. He decides to dodge emotion in the best way he knows how.

Ranch hand, huh? Still got the chaps?

Unsurprisingly, Evan doesn’t rise to the bait. He doesn’t answer for a while, but when he does it's just the next question. Tommy figured this one was coming, and he knows what he could say--the time he dealt with a bombing in the military, any number of bad calls he’s had, when he went down on ropes for a recuse and cracked his arm clean in half when he slammed into a cliffside--but it’s almost 10 o’clock and Evan and the nighttime are apparently a very dangerous combination for Tommy.

What is your most terrible memory?

He types out “When I was in the military, we had a bombing...” and “My first loss in the helicopter, it was a twelve year-old...” three times before he sighs at himself and goes for broke. Evan shared that damn story about a scared horse and Hell, maybe Tommy wants to see this through too.

When I was in bootcamp, I got a summons to the main office to take a phone call. It was the Sheriff's office back home. They were calling to tell me that my family was in a car accident. I needed to come home right away because my step-mom and half sister were in pretty bad shape. They died when I was on a plane somewhere over Oregon, twenty minutes apart and just 15 minutes before I landed. When I landed, a deputy picked me up and took me straight to the hospital. It wasn’t until I was standing in front of my father, who was cuffed to his hospital bed, that I learned that he was driving drunk and ran them into a telephone pole.

After it’s sent, Tommy’s hit with a great mass of regret and wishes he could swallow it back up into his chest and never talk about it again. It’s out there though, it’s in Evan’s tender and clumsy hands, and Tommy thinks he knows how that horse felt.

The text box bubbles, and bubbles, and bubbles. Then it stops, and it stays still long after Tommy has dragged himself to the bedroom and fallen asleep.

When he wakes up, the response he’s gotten from Evan is expected and unexpected all at once. Tommy holds off on reading it until he’s halfway through an omelet and ready to stomach this on-going emotional torture of a conversation. Evan’s starting to fall back into his old texting patterns, and a smattering of messages are waiting for him to read like an op-ed piece.

Set II is kind of more emotional, huh.

I’m up next to answer “If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?” so I’ll just get into that, maybe make up for making you talk about that.

Which, thank you, Tommy. Genuinely. For sharing that with me, or trusting me with that.

I’m sure that wasn’t easy to share. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you went through that. I know sorry doesn’t cut it, but I am.

Okay, right. My answer.

I thought about dying a lot after I actually, you know, died. For three minutes and seventeen seconds. So, anyway, this question and situation kind of scares the shit out of me. Like it’s really dangerous for me. I never want to know if I’m going to die, because I’ll blow my life up. I’ll spend all my savings and I’ll hug the 118 goodbye and I’ll be gone. Obviously that isn’t good, right, because my family should get to see me before I’m gone forever, but if I know I have an expiration date I can’t continue to just live my life like normal and wait for it to happen. I’d want to get to all the places I never got to see--Mexico City and a good chunk of Route 66 and Grand Teton National park. I’ve got to go see Halliehurst--that’s the horse I mentioned, and Mary; she owns the ranch. I would ask Conner and Cameron if I could spend an afternoon with their son. He’s kind of also my son. Genetically, not legally. I’d beg my parents to tell me where Daniel’s grave is so I could apologize. I’d stop by Texas to see Eddie and Chris and I wouldn’t tell them why I was there. I’d sell everything I have and put it into trusts for Chris and Jee and her brother. I’d forgive my parents, too. I’d tell you I always loved you. I wouldn’t stop moving until the day I couldn’t.

Evan’s words feel like an avalanche, and the sudden sore throat Tommy feels makes him realize that he had started reading Evan’s text out loud in a horse whisper. He’s stuck reading the second to last sentence again and again. I’d tell you that I always loved you, I’d tell you that I always loved you, I’d tell you that I always loved you. Leave it to Evan to take Tommy ripping his chest open and letting him observe his insides and respond in kind with much more dangerous information. He thinks about texting back, but even Tommy “run like your life depends on it” Kinard knows that they’re a little beyond texting.

He swipes into his calendar app and pulls up Evan’s, checking his schedule. He should be getting off shift right about now; so Tommy makes a call. He’s disappointed yet relieved when it goes to voicemail, but he’s determined. He leaves a voicemail telling Evan to come to his place--he’ll have an omelet and coffee waiting for him.

Evan never comes over, but it’s for the best because it’s only twelve minutes later that Tommy gets a call in anyway.

Later, when Evan sees him, neither one says anything about the questions--it’s all work. The 118 is holding the line between the city of Los Angeles and a group of men hell bent on killing at least half of it. They had caught them in the middle of a small pile up outside of the stadium, one of them with a detonator in his hand and his car rigged to explode canisters of deadly gas and release it into the air. The man was too volatile to talk down and S.W.A.T. was too nervous to get his hand off the trigger with a dozen others ready to explode it and complete their mission however they could.

It was decided that they would need to fly the car out of the city, and Tommy’s experience as a military pilot had him at the top of the list to help complete the mission. The helicopters they had wouldn’t be enough to lift it on their own, it would take two flying in a precarious formation until they could set it down outside of the city and the detonator’s range in the desert. Evan wasn’t on shift with the 118 when they headed out to the crash, having been alternating shifts with Chimney to help Maddie in her recovery and pregnancy; but he was with Athena when she caught wind of the plan caught Tommy on the rooftop at sunset he had been told to take off from to avoid two choppers coming from the same direction and arousing suspicion. When they stood face to face, Tommy didn’t know what to say that could convey how he was feeling that morning, how much he wanted to finish their conversation.

“You deserve to hear my response verbally, Evan. I can’t do that right now--not with all of this. But meet me back here and I will then. I’ll know what to say, I promise.”

Evan looked like he wanted to argue, but from the look on Athena’s face behind them Tommy could guess that she had already told Evan that he couldn’t say anything to Tommy to talk him out of this mission.

“What does friendship mean to you?” Is what Evan says, and for an insane moment Tommy thinks he’s speaking in code. “That’s the next question for you. S-so you better have answer for me, when you get back, Tommy. I’m holding you to it.”

Tommy has to laugh at his surprise of a man, always throwing him for a loop.

“Okay, Evan. I will.”

Tommy does think about it, on the way to the road in front of the stadium where the cars around the bomb car have been cleared away and a ground team is waiting to rush in to secure the car to both helicopters. If radio chatter is to be believed, the 118 minus Evan is distracting the group inside the stadium and acting as de facto negotiators for the sake of the city of Los Angeles.

He arrives in tandem with the S.W.A.T. helicopter and he hovers and drops the line, the team below him securing the car for lift off. It seems like everything is going well and he gets the all clear easy enough, confirmation from the other pilot to begin lifting coming through. He hears a loud pop and feels a searing pain in his stomach and up through his back, and feels his helicopter jolt suddenly to the side.

“Kinard! What’s going on up there?” The voice of a S.W.A.T. agent crackles through the radio, and Tommy takes a second to breathe before adrenaline floods his veins and he reigns the chopper in, feeling the car sway dangerously between the two birds.

“I think you’ve got gunmen down there, officer. Get your people out of the road.” Tommy replies through gritted teeth, then calls out to the other pilot to let him know that Tommy is good to go. They begin flying toward their destination.

“Are you hit, Kinard? Can you fly?” The same officer’s voice rings out, and Tommy doesn’t have time for this.

“Mission is a go, Officer.” Tommy calls back, trying to skirt around the bullet hole that he definitely knows he’s bleeding out of. He knows Evan is right next to Athena, and as much as he knows he’ll have hell to pay about getting shot in the first place, if Evan hears him say that he’s been hit, he’ll kick up enough of a fuss to get himself arrested.

“Godspeed, Kinard, Smitherson.” The Officer signs off, and Tommy vaguely registers that Smitherson is the other pilot. Good to know who he’s carrying a deadly chemical weapon into the desert with.

Pushing at top speeds, the get to Joshua Tree in a little less than an hour. It’s pretty impressive that the military has managed to secure some sort of tent that they’ve got ready to surround and seal the car once it’s touched down safely. Tommy’s so relieved to see it that he barely registers when Smitherson comes over the radio and says “Let’s get ready to set ‘er down, Kinard.”

“Copy that, Smitherson.” Is what he manages to say, just glad to finally pull his hands back from pushing his bird as hard as it would go while also managing to give it as smooth a touch as he could manage. He’s been sweating for the entire fight and he knows that adrenaline is the only thing keeping him going. He hopes like hell that they cut the car loose quickly and he can get the bird down as soon as possible. He knows that he doesn’t have much time.

The military cutting the car from the birds and getting it surrounded passes in a blur, and Smitheson is telling them that they are cleared to land. Tommy wants to argue, wants to get back in radio range so he can say what he needs to Evan, but he knows that they don’t have enough fuel.

He pulls far enough away from the excitement and puts his chopper down where they tell him. When his bird is shut down and it’s safe to exit, Tommy pulls his radio off and unbuckles himself; which unfortunately is not a good combo with the group of soldiers that yank his door open. Tommy goes tumbling onto the road he’s just landed on, and the soldiers around him shout in surprise. One of them grabs him and shines their helmet flashlight on him, right in his eyes.

“Pilot, are you hurt?” He yells out, and Tommy’s having some real flashback to his own tour in the military and he is not enjoying it one bit.

“Shot through the stomach,” is what Tommy manages to grit out, and instantly there are hands on him compressing his wound. The voices around him are calling out for medics. Everything past that point is heavy and foggy, and Tommy is loosing the thread of the night very quickly. He thinks to himself, Evan was right, I never would have wanted to know this was happening.

Tommy manages to grab the soldier that spoke to him earlier, and mumbles out a final message before he passes out.

“Tell Evan I’m sorry, and tell Colonel John Dewalt he owes me a dinner.”

After that is just darkness.

Contrary to what you see in movies, waking up from a serious injury is way harder than just miraculously opening your eyes and revealing your love for the person next to you. For one, it’s definitely Howie and Bobby Nash sitting at his bedside talking over him in starts and stops that his exhausted brain can’t make heads or tails of. Two, Tommy might be technically awake, but his eyes won’t open and his mouth won’t move, so he quickly gives in to his body’s desire to fall back asleep.

The next time he wakes up, Tommy does manage to open his eyes, but again it’s not the person he wants to give some crazy bedside confession to at his bedside; it’s Athena Grant, Hen Wilson, and Maddie Han. Athena clocks him first, and her eyes widen.

“Oh no, do not wake up for me Tommy Kinard, I am not dealing with your man about it. You and he are just as crazy as the other, you just go back to sleep until he gets back from the cafeteria.”

“Athena!” Maddie says, scandalized and laughing at once, and Hen calls out ”I’ll call the nurse.”

Tommy doesn’t hear anything after that, falling back asleep quickly.

He dreams in fragments, things that don’t make sense--Evan in the helicopter with him, Evan being the one shot, Howie being the person with the detonator. Though, there was a particularly fun one where Evan was very excited and grateful to see him return and met him on that rooftop with an enthusiastic kiss.

When he finally drags himself awake fully, Evan is there. Along with Eddie. Tommy vows before he opens his eyes and lets them know he’s awake to not say anything monumentally stupid about this.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now. Your heart rate is giving you away, man,” Comes Eddie’s voice. Tommy groans.

“Le-et me ha-ave som-e mystery, D-Diaz,” it what Tommy says in response. Well, it’s what Tommy tries to say, it’s really only “mystery, Diaz” that comes out through his desert-dry throat.

“Don’t bully him, Eddie, he’s injured.” Evan says, and suddenly he’s holding a straw to Tommy’s lips. Tommy opens his eyes finally and is looking right up into Evan’s. He feels himself settle and he drinks from the straw.

“What, like you’re not gonna bully him about flying for an hour while shot and not telling anyone?”

“Yes, but I’m going to do it later after he’s more awake. It’s called tact.”

“Yeah well my return flight is tomorrow morning I don’t have time for tact. Tommy, you’re an idiot.”

“I’m gonna kick you out.”

“You can’t, I only get this time to see him before I leave.”

“Well maybe it wouldn’t feel so urgent to see him if you hadn’t stopped being his friend for months before you moved to Texas.”

“Damn, Buck, you’re kind of mean when someone’s in the hospital.”

“Eddie, I swe--”

“Guys,” Tommy croaks, imploring them to shut up and stop contributing to his already significant headache that had made itself known after opening his eyes.

“Sorry Tommy.” They both say, eerily similar in tone in a way that tells Tommy that he isn’t the first to receive a double apology from the two. He’s feeling a little out of it, so he’ll blame that feeling later on what he says next even though he definitely thinks he told himself he wouldn’t do this,

“I’m so stupid for ever thinking you could be in love with Eddie, you’re kind of a bitch to him. You’re much nicer to me, Evan baby.”

There’s silence, sweet silence for Tommy’s pounding head, but then it gets even worse when Eddie lets out a sound that can only be labled as a squawk and start spluttering.

“You WHAT--”

“Hello Mr. Kinard!” a woman in blue comes bustling in and bodily shoves Eddie away from the bed, Evan moving back with him and pushing him out of the room by the shoulders. Tommy can hear Evan saying, “Okay Eddie why don’t you go get some coffee while the nurse checks on Tomm--” and the rest is cut off when they both leave the room and Evan kicks the door shut behind him.

Tommy watches them go and then focuses on the nurse, who is checking his vitals and then starts to go into information on his injuries. Shot, bullet was lodged in his shoulder bone but they extracted it, lost a little blood but weirdly enough the seatbelt seemed to have put just enough pressure on the hole to stop him from bleeding out, a really lucky experience all around.

He was in Palm Springs at a trauma center closer to Joshua Tree, but now that he was awake he could be assessed by the doctor within the hour and then moved back home to Los Angeles in the morning if everything seemed alright. Tommy let her words wash over him and apologized when he yawned three times in a row.

“Don’t worry, honey. From what I hear you saved the city of Los Angeles. I think you’ve earned a nap.” She pats his arm, marks something down on his chart, and then tells him the doctor should be in soon. Before she leaves completely, she looks out the door and turns back to Tommy. “Those two are coming back in. If I were you, I’d close my eyes and get back to sleep.”

Tommy laughs, but when she opens the door he does as she says. He’s not quite ready to face all of the trouble his mouth and actions have gotten himself into right now.

He doesn’t fall asleep immediately, so when Eddie and Evan come back in, he hears Evan’s disappointed “Awh, he fell back asleep,” and Eddie’s answering “Coward, he knows I was going to call him out for saying the most insane shit I’ve ever heard”.

Tommy breathes slowly and uses every ounce of the yoga knowledge he has from that yoga instructor he dated for four months once to keep his breathing in.

“Oh my god, Eddie,” Evan says, sounding bratty in the way only he can pull off, “He’s like, high on pain killers don’t blame him. Also, if you say something to him you have to say something to Maddie because she also made a comment about how it ‘wouldn’t be crazy’ that I was in love with you.”

“Dude, gross. What is wrong with your people?”

“You were Tommy’s friend first,” Evan points out, and Tommy has to hand it to him for that, but Eddie quickly responds with “and you’re the one fucking him so,”

“We aren’t currently fucking!” Is the only defense Evan offers, so Tommy retracts the point he gave Evan earlier.

“Yeah, not according to Chim, apparently you wasted no time christening my house!”

“I am not talking about this with you, also I’m killing Chim and Maddie when I see them again.”

“Oh, now you don’t want to tell me details I don’t want to--”

 Tommy starts to go foggy, and he realizes that at some point the nurse definitely pushed more painkillers. He wants to hear more of this argument, but sleep grabs him and swallows him whole before he has the chance to even try to put up a fight.

Tommy finally comes to and feels alert and actually awake the next morning. He realizes he slept right through the doctor check up, and he hopes that means he’ll be headed back to LA today.

 This time, he actually gets what he wants. It’s near silent in the room, with only the hum of machines and soft snores coming from a roll-away bed set up on the right side of the room permeating the quiet.

 The windows are open and like some choreographed scene in a romcom, Evan is laying on the extra bed; deeply asleep with sunlight trailing through his curls, highlighting his birthmark. His lips are red a slightly open, and his upper half is covered in a hoodie that Tommy knows says Kinard across the back even though he can’t fully see it.

Evan lets out a particularly loud snore and his hand comes up to swat at his nose. Tommy can’t help but be charmed.

 He reaches over with a very sore arm to grab a cup of water that has been placed on the table next to his bed, greedily sucking down the water until the straw makes a grating noise when there’s no more liquid in the cup. The noise jolts Evan awake, and before Tommy can blink Evan is flailing (falling) out of the extra bed and throwing himself into the chair next to Tommy.

 “H-hey Tommy, how are you feeling?” He says it quietly, bringing a hand up to run his fingers through Tommy’s no doubt disgustingly greasy hair.

 “M okay, Evan,” he says, and stretches his neck left to right. He swallows before saying the thing he’s really been thinking of this whole time.

 “Friendship is being there, when things are hard.”

 Evan looks confused, in the way he usually does when he wakes up, but he smiles before too long and nods.

 “Yeah, yeah I agree.”

 Evan pushes the call button, and pats Tommy’s hand like he understands just how important it was that Tommy got that out. He probably does.

 The doctor bustles in and introduces herself, and tells Tommy how lucky he is, and says that Evan can take him home.

The ride back isn’t too long, just under two hours, and Tommy is eager to stay awake after four days asleep so he and Buck finish out “Set II” and begin on “Set III” of the 36 questions. Evan unsurprisingly has the list memorized so when it’s his turn he easily gets his questions out, but Tommy has to pull the list up again after he’s responded to all of the texts he received during his heroics and healing. It’s weird at first hearing the answers in person; and it’s honestly harder to ask the questions themselves, but Tommy feels good as they do it.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?” is how Tommy kicks it off, and Evan answers deeply and thoughtfully, which is at odds with the way he’s shoving a donut into his mouth as he pulls onto the highway.

“For a long time, it felt really conditional in my life. I’ve talked a lot about this in therapy. I felt like my parents never gave me affection and love unless they had to in order to keep up appearances or only when they felt really bad for me, like when I was injured. Maddie was really the only one growing up that gave me love and affection without something having had to have happened first. And that? Sucked. Then I got older and Maddie left, so there was a real love and affection vacuum in my life. Unfortunately that led me to a lot of meaningless sex and hook ups. It wasn’t until I settled in at the 118 and I met Abby that I started to realize that love and affection don’t have to be contractual. Er, well, Abby maybe didn’t help with that actually but she did snap me out of my sex-additct ways.”

Tommy tries hard to say things back to Evan that are genuine and aren’t the first things that come to his head, so for this first one he says, “I can understand that. I’m glad you don’t feel that way any more.” and that gets him a grin from Evan as he pushes his sunglasses back into place and changes lanes, so Tommy thinks he’s doing alright.

Evan has the next question with, “Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items.” which is one for both of them and breaks up some of the heavy air in a way that Tommy and the hole in his abdomen that is pulsing a bit with all of the emotion coming out of them appreciate. To be fair, Tommy starts but they’re off pretty quickly, alternating. They decide to share five each.

“I appreciate how you chase after things that are important to you.”

Evan nods in acknowledgement before following with, “I really like how capable and calm under pressure you are.”

“I’m amazed at how positive you are, even when you’ve dealt with really difficult things.”

“I like how you can look at something and have a good idea of how to fix it even before you know what’s wrong.” That one makes Tommy’s cheeks heat a little, and he pauses for just a moment before sharing his next one.

“You’re unimaginably sweet, and very selfless.”

“I think that’s two, but okay,” Evan chuckles, “You’re so funny, genuinely. Even when it’s at my expense.”

Tommy doesn’t know what to say to that, so Evan follows up with, “Which, honestly I think I kind of need in my life? Like you aren’t actually mean to me. But I do think I need someone to laugh with me about me sometimes.”

“I like the way you take up space unapologetically. You’re never afraid to be you.”

“I love how solid you are. I had this dream a few times where I got injured on the job and you’d be able to carry me out no problem.”

“Hmm, might have to wait a few weeks for that,” Tommy says, trying to ignore the way that one made his throat tighten. Evan laughs softly and nods. “I really like how observant you are. There are so many things I miss in everyday life but you always seem to be paying attention and cataloguing everything you see.”

“I love the way you love rom coms. It’s kind of amazing to watch you watch one with the intensity you have towards the Lakers.”

Tommy laughs out loud at that one, and looks down at his phone. He asks Evan question number 23, “How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?”

Evan gives him a look, and says “I think you can extrapolate from my earlier answers; but my family isn’t really close and warm. They’re better now, but there was always something off. I just didn’t know it was a dead brother. My childhood wasn’t awful--but it was one that was haunted by a nine year old boy I couldn’t save. So, yeah.”

Tommy swallows, and lets that sit as long as Evan wants it to. He isn’t sure they’re there yet--where they can comment on each other’s childhoods. Evan clears his throat and barrels forward.

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?”

Tommy is quiet, thinking about how he wants to answer this. He decides that if Evan can be sharp about his childhood brush with death, so can he.

“She died when she gave birth to me. She was too young, only seventeen, and there were complications. I made it but she didn’t.”

It’s Evan’s turn to be quiet, and before either of them can come up with what they want to say, he pulls off at and exit and says “gotta get gas.”

They stop off long enough for Evan to get gas and Tommy to hit the restroom and grab some snacks. He gets back in the car and hands Evan a flavored water and protein bar, and tears into the oatmeal creme pie he got for himself.

“Nice, I love these protein bars,” Evan says, happily ripping open the packaging and taking a bite, “Thanks, Tommy.”

“I remembered,” Tommy says around his snack cake, trying not to choke as some does down his throat.

Evan hums, choosing to actually chew and swallow before talking.

“I used to think that we didn’t know anything about each other, you know.” He says before shoving the rest of the bar in his mouth and chewing and swallowing again. “But, like. With all of these questions

I did realize we knew some things about each other. Yeah there’s a lot we’ve learned and still need to learn, but there’s more there that we knew than I ever thought.”

Tommy lets that wash over him, doesn’t comment. He finishes his snack and chugs half of the Coke Zero he grabbed for himself before pulling his phone out.

“Um, on to ‘Set III’ then?” He asks, suddenly unsure. Evan nods so Tommy pushes on. “Make three true “we” statements each. For instance, “We are both in this room feeling...”

“We are in this car feeling...awkward. We are in this car feeling...vulnerable. We are in this car feeling...hopeful?” Evan says the last one with a questioning lilt in his voice and doesn’t look over at Tommy.

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees, and he sees Evan’s shoulders relax. Evan nods before asking the next one.

“Complete this sentence: “I wish I had someone with whom I could share ...”

“My life,” Tommy blurts without thinking, so quickly that Evan’s eyes dart over to him and stay there for a few seconds before returning to the road. “I wish I had someone with whom I could share, uh, my life.”

Evan doesn’t say something, and Tommy is glad. He just lets the answer hang there until Tommy collects himself enough to ask the next question.

“If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know”

Evan tilts his head and glances at the GPS, taps his hands on the steering wheel. It’s the longest he’s taken to answer a question in person.

“W-well,” He starts, voice not very confident, “I think it would be important for them to know that they have a place in my life that’s different than the other relationships in my life. I would want them to know that every relationship in my life is different and doesn’t threaten theirs, and that I want them and only them...in that specific, um, friendship.”

Tommy is honestly kind of impressed at the way that Evan managed to shoe horn that in, and he almost allows it. But he also knows that if they want this to exist beyond just this car and the hospital bed and their text messages, he needs to be ready to have tough conversations.

“Can we talk about it?” Tommy says before he can chicken out. Evan lets out a gusty breath and sags downward.

‘Yeah, please?” He says, sparing Tommy a glance for a s ling as he can manage and still watch where they’re going.

‘That was really, unbelievably stupid of me, Evan. I should have never implied that you were in love with Eddie. I knew it wasn’t true. I think I was just scared because it seemed like in that moment everything was too easy--you agreed to try again and I didn’t even need to do anything to convince you--”

“--Oh I think you did something to convince me,” Evan interjects with an unmistakable leer.

“--you know what I mean. I was just, afraid of screwing it up so I just torpedoed it instead. Which, I know, is counterproductive.”

“Thank you for saying that, Tommy. I want you to know that you never have to worry about that. But, I also want to be honest with you. I did cheat on a partner once. It was stupid, it was a drunken kiss when I knew better. But I need you to know the second I did it I regretted it, and I’ll never do it again.”

That gave Tommy pause, but if he wants to try this he needs to not let small things get to him.

“Thank you for telling me that, Evan. I want to be better, with you. I promise no more accusing you of having feelings that I know you don’t.”

“Thank you. I promise that I won’t say things I don’t mean just to hurt you.”

“Good, okay,” Tommy chokes out, and it feels like a weight is gone from the car. He looks at the GPS, and they’ve only got about 17 minutes left on their drive. He makes a decision for both of them. “I think we should have the last questions for later, huh? We’re almost there.”

“Yeah, that’s good with me,” Evan says, and he gently turns the radio up so that there's music softly playing as they venture further into the city that they saved.

Evan stays the night because it’s late, and in the morning Tommy is treated to a Faceplant burrito from Hellbenders. It’s sausage and frito and nacho cheese goodness, and if Tommy wasn’t already hopelessly and complicatedly in love with the man, the burrito would have sealed the deal. It’s of course when he’s got half a burrito in his mouth and Evan is watching him with a look that’s half-disgust and half-fondness that he hits Tommy with a question.

“28, Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met”

 Maybe Evan knows him too well, and he waited until his mouth was full to give Tommy and excuse to think for a moment.

 “Didn’t we kind of already do this one?”

 “Yeah, there are some ones with similar points, I think that’s on purpose.” Evan then attempts to eat his own burrito in one and a half bites and theres only the sound of chewing for a moment. Tommy swallows and speaks.

 “I really like how thoughtful you are. It’s kind of insane how much you remember about others and act accordingly. You know my favorite foods and brands; you always leave the TV on the channel I watch in the morning. You remember every birthday of everyone in your life and could easily get them a gift that is perfect for them with no notice. Sometimes I think you get wrapped up in things and feel guilty when someone feels slighted, but that’s so unfair to you because you are so incredibly thoughtful all of the other times. It’s okay to slip up once or twice.”

 “I-” Evan stutters, seemingly at a loss for words. Tommy is propelled on by a sense of wanting to right a wrong.

“And sometimes it’s not even your fault, because you aren’t working with all the information. Like, I know you felt bad because you thought you forgot our 6-month anniversary. But honestly, I got luckily and was looking and my calendar that morning and calculated it. I never set a precedent that we would be celebrating that. That wasn’t on you.”

 Evan is quiet for a long moment, and Tommy almost gets to the point of regretting his words. But Evan’s got a tiny little smile on his face, and he eventually lets out a quiet, “Thanks, Tommy.” so Tommy is counting this one as a win. He decides to keep the questions going since Evan isn’t due in to the 118 until later that afternoon and the stitches in Tommy’s abdomen and shoulder have him grounded for a while yet to come. He pulls the article up on his phone.

 “Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.” He says, and then takes the final bit of his burrito into his mouth.

 Evan groans and scrubs a hand down his face before shoving the rest of his own burrito in his mouth in a hurry. Tommy smirks but doesn’t comment.

 “Okay, don’t judge me too harshly.” Evan implores eventually, laying his hands out flat on either side of his burrito wrapper. “So, you know the bombing and my leg and everything. What I didn’t tell you is that stupid, hot-headed Buck took over after I found out that Bobby was the one keeping me from going back to work. There was this lawyer,”

 “Oh, Evan,” Tommy can’t resist saying.

 “Oh, Evan is right. I called him and I threatened to sue the LAFD. I thought it would be just a threat and Bobby would finally take me seriously; but they dragged everyone through the mud, and made the 118 hate me. It was awful, and I’m still so embarrassed about it.”

 “Well, I’m sorry about that Evan.”

 “Why? It was my fault, I’m the idiot who called a sleazy lawyer and almost ruined every relationship I had in my life at the time.”

 “No, I mean, I’m sorry you felt like you had to do that.”

 “What, what do you mean?” Evan asks, sincere and admittedly adorable with his eyebrows pulled together.

 “C’mon, anyone who’s met you could tell you that your job means everything to you. There’s no way you would have jeopardized it like that without a really good reason. Were you ready to go back? Did Bobby have a leg to stand on--” he pauses and winces, “--sorry, no pun intended, when it came to keeping you out of the job?”

 “Well, no, but--”

 “Then there you go. I’m sure you felt justified at the time, and unfortunately you got taken advantage of by that lawyer. And if you’re still hung up on it like this, clearly you learned from it. But, you don’t hurt people on purpose, Evan.”

 “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

 Tommy nods, drinks down the rest of his orange juice, and lets Evan determine if they’ll keep going. He seems to have decided that he doesn’t want to be the only vulnerable one here this morning, so he says “when did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself?”

 Tommy tilts his head, honestly trying to remember, and says “I genuinely don’t cry that often.”

 Evan just hums and encourages him to continue.

 “I think...the last time I cried in front of someone else was when I saw a movie a few years ago. I don’t even remember the movie, but I definitely remember bawling with the rest of the packed theater.”

 “Yeah, fair enough,” Evan says, grinning slightly. “What about alone?”

 Tommy genuinely tries to think of the last time he cried alone, and he feels dread fill him when he realizes when that was.

 “Uh, well. It was definitely more recent,” Tommy starts, trying to be delicate, “I think it was...after we, uh, christened Eddie’s house.”

 For a moment, Evan is too caught up in his phrasing to feel bad about it, letting out a strangled “you heard Eddie say that--” before finishing with a lackluster, “Oh. Uh. What I said?”

 “Yeah, sorry.” Tommy says, lamely.

 “No, don’t be sorry!” Evan says, stumbling over his words to get them out in a rush. “It’s okay, that’s the point of these questions right? It’s okay.”

 “Right, definitely. Maybe the next one is a little less heavy,” Tommy tries to say to lighten the mood. He looks at the article and zeroes in on question 31 before reading it out to Evan, “Tell your partner something that you like about them already.”

 “Oh. Well, I mentioned a few already, but those were pretty deep. So, if we want to lighten the mood a little...I really, really, like your body.”

 Tommy sputters a bit but can’t help but grin at Evan, who’s sporting a matching one.

 “You are so hot, and strong, and the way your hands feel on me makes me a little crazy.”

 “Just a little?” Tommy shoots back, feeling the simmering level of horny that has been a constant companion in his life since Evan waltzed into it begging to ratchet up. He has to keep himself in check and not hurtle them towards a repeat of the thing that made Tommy cry on his own just a month ago.

 “Or, you know, a lot,” Evan says, grin turning wicked and sharp at the corners, eyes drifting down to said hands where they rested in front of Tommy.

 “Christ, Kid, I’m injured, take it easy on me,” is the only thing Tommy can think to say to cool the conversation down. Evan doesn’t help when he bites his lip and shrugs.

 “Suit yourself,” he says lowly, getting up to gather their trash and throw it away in the kitchen--swinging his hips just a little more than usual on the way (Tommy is sure of it).

Evan asks, “what, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?” while they’re on the way back from Tommy’s latest physical therapy appointment.

 “Drunk driving,” Tommy says, no need to think about that one.

 Evan hums, and reaches over to put his hand comfortingly on top of Tommy’s. They let it hang there, and Tommy thinks of a million things he could say--thinks about telling Evan more about Shelly and Annie--but he lets it go. Evan just holds his hand, and hums along to the song playing lowly on the radio.

 For the first time in a long time though, Tommy lets himself think about them.

It’s later that night and they’re on Tommy’s back porch listening to the ambient sounds of his neighborhood, trying to catch glimpses of stars in the cloudy sky. Tommy doesn’t have a lead up, so he just asks, “If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?”

 Evan looks at him, and for a moment Tommy thinks that they’re finally going to talk about it, they’re finally going to break through the dam that’s holding back every thing they do and don’t want to say about their relationship. Just when Tommy has prepared himself for it, Evan curves with his answer.

 “Probably a lot of things, like how proud I am of Maddie and whether or not I really do forgive my parents. How happy I am that Hen and Karen got Mara back, how awesome Bobby has been for me. How much I admire Athena, how much I think May is going to be a kick ass adult. How much I want Chim to promise me to take care of Maddie. So much happens in our lives that I miss out on so many pockets of time to tell people things. They all just kind of build up in the back of my head. So...probably a lot of things.”

 “I can understand that,” Tommy replies, a hint of a joke in his voice, “your life is kind of insane, Buckley.”

 Evan lets the joke be what it is and laughs, agreeing before posing the next question to Tommy. He gestures towards the house behind him.

 “Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?”

 Tommy thinks about this one, thinks about that morning in the car.

 “After my stepmom and half-sister, Shelley and Annie...after they died, and my dad was still in the hospital, I went back to his house and I took everything that mattered to the two of them. Shelley’s perfume that she always wore and these dangly earrings she said her mom gave her; and Annie’s baby book and her favorite bear that I had picked up from a dollar store for her; I took it all and I’ve still got it, along with some pictures of them.”

 He pauses and breathes deeply. Just like in the car, Evan reaches over across the patio chairs and grabs at Tommy’s hand, he squeezes it and Tommy continues.

 “It’s in a box up in my bedroom closet. I don’t know what to do with it all, but I knew that I couldn’t leave it in that house with him--if he got out of jail I knew he would toss it all. So I kept it in a storage container two towns over until I left the military and then I brought it here to LA with me. I’d run back in a burning house for that.”

 Evan looks like he wants to ask a question but is fighting himself not to at the same time. Tommy breathes out slowly and nods. “You can ask.”

 “Is your dad still in jail?”

 “Yeah, he got fucked because it turned out that the judge on his case was best friends with Shelley’s father. No one really likes that kind of bias in the courts, but if it keeps a mean drunk who took the lives of a woman and her baby in jail, no one bats an eye. He was up for probation once, but I took a few days off to go and talk at the hearing. He was so mad when he saw me, and he had no remorse. I told them in no uncertain terms that my father deserved to die in jail. With any luck, he will.”

 Evan doesn’t respond at first, but he gets up and kneels in front of Tommy’s chair. He’s so beautiful, and his eyes are just a bit glossy, and Tommy feels all at once too exposed and safe. “Let’s go to bed, huh?” Is what Evan whispers, and Tommy lets him lead them back into the house.

Evan is making dinner in Tommy’s kitchen when Tommy asks the next one.

 “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?”

 “Maddie,” Evan says without a hint of hesitation. It’s not until after he’s said it that he pauses his hands and frowns. “Right?”

 “Are you asking me?” Tommy says from his position at the island where he’s been regulated to simply watching Evan chop vegetables for their stir-fry dinner.

 “Um,” Evan starts and stops, looking unsure. His eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “No, definitely Maddie. Of course. Or, well. Maybe Jee-Yun. That one would be pretty scary. I don’t know how I could handle that. I don’t know if I could.”

 “Evan--” Tommy starts, but Evan is looking pretty closed off. He doesn’t want to push more than necessary, not with this fragile thing starting to knit itself together in between them.

 “Let’s talk about something else, please.” Evan says, and Tommy allows it. For all Evan has clearly considered his own death, it seems like the deaths of those around him are unfathomable.

 Tommy shifts the conversation to the latest call Evan had told him about, a fire in a theatre during the second act of Julius Caesar, but he continues to look at the way that Evan’s shoulders haven’t quite come down from his ears yet. Tommy sighs as he listens to Tommy talk about the props and how the person playing the soothsayer had gotten a little too close to a lit candle and had their robes go up in flames; then was stripped almost naked by Hen and Chimney in a bid to get them off.

 Tommy has learned so much about Evan in this little experiment of his, but often he’s reminded that these questions won’t be enough for either of them. When he does unravel this elaborate net encompassing them, there’s still going to be them on the other side of it--whether they’re ready for that or not.

Over a week passes and Evan doesn’t ask question 36. After the way question 35 went, Tommy won’t push it; too afraid to shatter the facsimile of peace and healing that’s fallen over his house. Evan is there in between all of his shifts, helping Tommy with his physical therapy and cooking for him, staying in the guest bedroom when Tommy doesn’t protest.

It’s been a good facsimile, all things considered, but it’s slowly eating Tommy alive through uncertainty. Half of him wants to go on pretending forever but the other half keeps him up at night, wondering which morning is going to be the last one Evan spends with him. If Tommy were an outsider looking in, he’s sure he would tell the person in his shoes now that there’s no way Evan would walk away now--he’s spent too much time, invested too much energy into this relationship just to walk away. But being an outsider is a lot different than being in it. He’s too close, too scared to ask what’s next.

Evan wakes up from sleeping off his last shift before two days off when he finally starts to make noise about what’s going to happen now that Tommy is facing down going back to work and integrating back into normal life.

“So, Tommy,” Is how he starts, grabbing Tommy’s empty breakfast plate with own and stacking them in preparation to be taken to the kitchen. He sets them down on the coffee table and leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You’re all healed up, back to work in a few days. I guess I, uh, should start staying back at my house.”

Tommy nods, and hums in agreement, before replying with “yeah, I guess that’s right.”

It feels inadequate, but Tommy never learned how to really fight for what he wants without being given express permission to do so. He wants Evan to ask him the last question. In a fit of courage, he tries.

“Do you want...do you want to ask me number 36? We should finish it, right?”

Evan looks a bit heartbroken, for just a second. His eyes close and his mouth turns downward. His body slumps just slightly forward. It all vanishes as quickly as it came though, and he wipes a hand down his face and then turns to look at Tommy directly, faux casual in the way he poses.

“Yeah, of course. Okay, 36. So it’s ‘share a personal problem and ask your partner’s advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen’.

“I want to try again, with someone I think could be the love of my life. I hurt them a lot though, and even though we’ve covered a lot of ground, and we know each other more than we ever did, and have gotten to somewhere I think is good, I’m still afraid to ask them outright if they could give me one last chance. What do you think I should do? How do you think I’m feeling about this?”

Evan looks at him, blue eyes and wine-colored birthmark and face full of hope and all. He smiles and blinks quickly, like his eyes have started to sting.

“I think it’s okay to be scared,” Evan says, leaning forward. “I’m scared too. But...please, please ask me, Tommy.”

“Evan,” Tommy starts, “If it’s okay with you I’ve got a 37th question. Will you try again with me? Now, after all of these questions? Do you like the person you learned about enough to try again?”

The look on Evan’s face is like sunlight breaking through the clouds; a grin stretching across his lips with no hesitation, eager determination in his eyes. “Yes, yes, of course, Tommy. I would love to.”

Any other words are quickly silenced by their lips meeting, hands grasping and hips and arms, desperation and homecoming all at once.

If someone needs to know me, Tommy thinks as he pulls Evan impossibly closer, I’ll be safe if it’s Evan.

[arrrion]

A face I remember

Senku Ishigami/Xeno H. Wingfield x gn reader (separated)

Synopsis: The Kingdom of science kidnapped Doctor Xeno and while trying to escape the Hell Hound, Stanley, they encounter two new figures, one they didn't imagine seeing there.

Before we start, I just want to let you know I'm not familiar with writing in English, there might be mistakes. Feel free to tell me or not.

Senku's part his probably much more longer than Xeno's but I think Xeno's is less platonic than Senku's.

Disclaimers: maybe a bit ooc?

→ The plan was to escape with Xeno. Now that they had him tied up, what was the next step? Ah yes, use Medusa as a bait. Senku knew that Stanley would be a hassle to deal with, but it wasn't the first time he found himself in such situation. He could do it. They would do it.

So the two scientists, quickly followed by Chrome, were doing their science things. And while they do that, stopping somewhere was a need they couldn't overlook. They needed rubber and mostly something to keep the boat going. Stanley would be quick to follow them behind, they had to be real fast.

However some girl decided differently.

Taiju was using his strength as usual when he saw the strange words in the sky. It happened to be the schemes of Chelsea. They gave her clothes and glasses as she had the same problem as little Suika.

Senku Ishigami

"I can totally see ! My whacked-oit vision is fixed !" She yeld as she jumped up like a little kid. "Yay ! Thanks a million !"

Chelsea was introduced to the group, she was getting lost on the excitment to see again that she forgot why she was mostly blind before.

"Oh my god they have to see this ! But where are my manners ! I need to make you guys meet them. They are so-" Chelsea got cut off when she understood that everyone was looking at her curiously.

"And can we know who you are talking about ? You are not alone ?" Senku was the one to break the awkward moment.

"Well I guess I'm not alone? They woke up before me. You should totally see how much they build when I was still in stone. Also they kind of helped me even though when I told them I would make those kites to find help, they didn't wanted to come." She continued to mumble on how you wouldn't make the kites with her, leading to her writing "H E L L" instead of "H E L P".

Genuinely curious, Senku really wanted to know who you might be (he just want more hands to work istg). But they hadn't enough time and he couldn't just leave every directions to Xeno while he go more in the forest.

So, while everyone continue to work, Kohaku will escort Chelsea to meet you in person.

"Ah you need to be careful Kohaku"

"Why that"

"Let's say they don't like feeling in danger, or they just love building all sorts of traps maybe?" Like Chelsea told the blond gorilla, the closest they got to your camp, the more traps Kohaku had to avoid while the geographer just knew where they all where, even more since she could see.

They finally stood in front of a big three that was really large.

"That's it? Where are they?" The blond was puzzled.

"They build their camp really high in that tree. " The little girl put her hands her mouth before taking a breath. "HEY NAME IT'S ME! I BRANG A FRIEND !" Silence responded her. But then different sounds of creaking wood and rustling leaves and next a big stomp startled them both as someone just jumped on the floor.

"Who is it" A voice that wanted to be intimidating stood behind Kohaku. She soon felt a hand on the back of her head. The stranger probably had an object in their other hand.

"Nooooo don't do thaaaaat! They are my friend I told you!"

"Yeah but that woman has the strength of a beast, I won't risk it" Your voice sounded like a girl the same age as the blond, she thinked.

"I'm here as the representative of our group. Chelsea wanted is to meet you."

"Where do you come from. You and that group." Kohaku looked at you, not understanding your words.

"They asked you where you where all from" Chelsea whispered. You blinked, recognizing the language.

"We come from Japan." You almost released her.

"You came here from Japan? Wait all of you?" You were clearly shocked. In the back of your mind, an image of your friends from there showed up but you quickly brushed it off. "And why are you here?"

"Ah they are escaping from someone if I remember. They just stopped to get wood." Chelsea wanted to respond, trying to ease you a little. "They are not bad guys Name." She said. "I mean Taiju is definitely a cool guy! Senku gave me those glasses ! Xeno look different. Hey I even got clothes look! And Ryusui is loud-" She kept talking about each one of them but you didn't heard the rest after the two first names. Those where the names of your two friends ! It couldn't be a coincidence right? You moved from behind the blond girl and she could get a visual at you. She wandered why Chelsea hadn't good clothes. Of course you wouldn't let her like this. Your were lacking in that. You weren't naked but if it weren't for that cloak that hide most of your body, Kohaku could tell you had not much to cover yourself. Why in earth would you build all those traps but not try to sew clothes?? She got cut of in her thoughts when you finally had enough to wait for the geographer to stop talking and you shut her mouth with your hand.

"Chelsea, my dear, said two names that interest me. You, blond girl, tell me, how would you describe those Taiju and Senku?"

"Describe? Well Taiju is really strong and yells a lot and Senku is a weirdo but with science we will restore humanity !" She smiled proudly at her statements, not even thinking one bit that she could lie. She was confident of it.

"Yea that sounds like them" You smiled. Those smile that were beyond happiness. She didn't know that she had just told you that your biggest dream was here. You had woken up here, on that stone world, alone. You were not in Japan when the petrification beam touch you so you knew you had little chance to see them back one day. You had already accepted that you would die without saying bye.

Kohaku watched your face contort with sadness, leaving your before happiness go away. You were just crushed by the reality. Your friends were there, in America. You just had to follow this girl and you would see them. You réalise that you were a coward for allowing you to lose hope. It's Senku we talk about? Of course he would've woke up and come this far ! You wiped your teary eyes and put both hands on Kohaku's shoulders.

"I will go take my stuff and you will conduct me to them." You waited for a nod, and, as flash, went back up on the tree, and went back as quickly. You three then proceeded to return where the group was, you deactivating the traps that were on your way. You did it with an ease that surprise the blond. In two to three movements from you, she could tell they weren't dangerous anymore. Kohaku felt a feeling of proud just thinking that someone like you would join the Kingdom of science soon.

The walk went to an end and soon you saw all the group occupied with their work. Seeing Chelsea and Kohaku return, Senku approched them, followed by Ryusui and Gen. Seeing him coming, you covered your head, waiting to surprise him a bit, getting a reaction out of him.

"You returned faster than I thought. Did it go well ?" He saw your figure behind but with your head covered he couldn't help the feeling that something big was happening.

"Yes ! They are amazing Senku, you should've seen all those traps they made back in the forest !" Kohaku was giving you too much credits you thinked. The scientist looked at you. The feeling grew bigger every seconds. He could feel his heart beat of anticipation.

"You didn't change much, Leek Hair" The said leek froze. He wouldn't forget that voice. His eyes locked with yours, even if your face stayed hidden. After seconds that felt like hours for everyone, you walked to him, showing your face to daylight, and you didn't hesitate to take him in your arms. He didn't push you, letting one of his hand move to your back.

"It's been a while, Mechanic Addict."

Xeno Wingfield

"You..." He started, recognizing the geographer. "You're Dr.Chelsea !"

"Xeno ! It's you !" She was also surprised. Xeno explained who she was to the group that captured him. As everyone was acknowledging the new figure, Xeno couldn't stop himself to wonder. If he remembered well, when Chelsea was invited at the gathering, you were with her. Chelsea was a genius geographer while you were a mechanic that had work for different big project, and at that time you were working with him at NASA. Chelsea is young so you had stick to her to avoid her trouble. He remembered seeing you petrified near her. Why didn't you come find him ? Where you still a stone ?

"Dr.Chelsea," She turned to him. ''Didn't Name woke up?" He needed to know.

"Ah ! They did-"

"They didn't see the sign I left ?"

"I don't think so? I told them we were going to south" Xeno noded. At least you were not in stone.

"Senku, if Name is indeed awake, I recommand you to take them with us, they would be really usefull." Of course he was right with his statement but he especially wanted you to convert you to his side.

"She should be back soon. She go in the forest everyday to check on the traps." As Chelsea said that, footsteps could be heard. They stopped. And they rushed. Xeno had little time to alert everyone that you already attacked whoever was to close to Chelsea. But you got stopped by Kohaku.

"Aaah don't attack them Name, they saved me!" Chelsea cried out to you. Seeing you relaxed, the blond released you. You got up on your two feets before talking.

"I only left you for a couple of hours and you find us big threats..." You sighed. Now that you didn't seem to want to attack anymore, the group explained to you their situation and you got kind of adopted by them? Now that all misunderstanding was removed, you looked like a big sister to them and the whole group of teen was glad to have you, even though your japanese was pretty bad.

Xeno actually stayed aside. He was contemplating you from afar. Only when you where left alone did he approached you.

"So you depetrified too, how elegant" You stiffened, immediately recognizing his voice. You eyes locked a couple of seconds before your hands touched his cheeks. He let you do so. You smiled, relieved.

"I missed you" He smiled too. Then, he pushed you to him, initiating a hug.

"I missed you too"

Well...

I hope you liked it?

It might feel rushed sometimes because it's been a while since I started writing this and I really wanted to finish it as soon as possible. I might write a part 2 because we don't get enough informations in this and I like what I imagined.

Also I don't think I will write it soon. I only write when I can and when I have motivation. I'll try if people like this.

See you some days !

[loveandmurders]

Red string and crimson hands (poly!Sinclair brothers x f!reader) - Part I

Hi everyone, I'm posting the first part of a new series requested by @mrstargayen09

The request: "In a world where soulmates are connected by an invisible red string, Y/N has always seen hers—threading through city streets, weaving between strangers, leading her toward someone she has never met. She’s always dreamed of a soft, fairy-tale romance, but fate has other plans. One rainy night, she finally follows the string to an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. Inside, she finds the Sinclair brothers again, mysterious and beautiful men with intense eyes and blood-stained hands. The string ties them together, but the sight before her freezes her heart—each of them is kneeling beside a lifeless body, fresh blood pooling beneath them. They look at her, fear flashing across their face. Y/N should run. She should scream. But instead, she steps closer. Something about them—about the way their string glows brighter, about the sorrow in their eyes—tells her there’s more to the story than just a crime. As they grow closer, Y/N learns the truth: the Sinclair brothers aren’t murderers by choice. They've been cursed, bound to take lives in exchange for their own survival and the continuation of their legacy. The weight of their actions has nearly crushed them—until she arrived, the one person who could rewrite their fate. But can love really bloom when their hands are stained with blood? Or will fate demand its price, tearing them apart just as they’ve finally found each other?

Back story: They're childhood friends and Y/N thought they stopped the killing after Trudy and Dr Sinclair died."

Warnings: no proof reading, reader wakes up at the hospital, amnesia, mentions of pain, panic, sadness, despair, blood, killers

When you opened your eyes, white was the first thing greeting you back to the world of the living.

But it was so bright, it made you wince in pain, and you unconsciously brought your hand over your face to protect yourself. For a brief instant, you thought that darkness was much nicer.

After a little while, you found the strength to blink your eyes open again; your survival instinct was probably kicking in and trying very hard to make sure you were in a safe place. It was funny in a way, because you didn’t remember being in danger before, and if you had been more attentive, you would have wondered where that thought came from. As you opened your eyes, your attention didn’t land on the room around you, but on the first colour greeting you back to reality: red. 

But unlike the brightness that seemed to completely engulf you, red was in the form of a string dancing in the air, like a playful friend waiting to be followed. You didn’t understand what it was; it seemed so unreal. You wondered if you were dreaming. That was until a doctor arrived next to your bed. She called your name once or twice before you finally looked up at her. You quickly glanced around you, and understood you were at the hospital. Your body fully woke up as pain made its presence known. You tried not to groan but you were getting physically uncomfortable. It even made you forget about the red string waving at you.

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked

You wanted to reply but you struggled to talk and frowned in worry. She shushed you, trying to appease you. You eventually managed to creak out a “What happened?”

“You don’t remember? You had a bad bike accident. But you got very lucky, with just a few broken ribs and a head trauma. We just need to make sure that no other kind of damage happened.” she explained to you and you tried to remember the accident, but your memory seemed hazy. 

“My parents…” you whispered and she nodded

“We found your wallet, and called them right away. I need you to rest some more before I let them come and see you, okay?” she replied

You wanted to see them right away, but actually your eyelids were already heavy. She gave you some painkillers, and with the relief of the pain leaving your body, you fell asleep almost instantly. 

When you woke up again, you were in pain once more, but you felt more awake this time. You managed to talk almost normally too. The doctor came back and sat in front of you. She started to test your capacity to control your body, while keeping you in bed. And then she asked you questions about your past. 

You quickly realised that a lot of it was gone.

You remembered your name, your parents names, who was the president and other things directly linked to the present or to usual knowledge (you still knew how to read and write for instance), but you had massive black holes in your memory. For example, you didn’t remember the city you were born in.

It was making you panic. You needed to remember your past, you needed to remember all of this, otherwise how would you know who you were? The doctor appeased you once again, she understood it was frightening, but she was hopeful. You were doing well otherwise, and it wasn’t uncommon for an accident like that to alter the memory temporarily. She was certain it would come back to you very soon.

She finally agreed for your parents to visit you. You were so happy to see them and you started to cry. The shock of everything was hitting you hard as they tenderly hugged you, trying to calm you down.

“It’s alright, baby, you’re fine” your mother whispered to you and you nodded, the tears were slowly stopping.

When you told them you didn’t remember your past, your parents exchanged a look.

“You mean you don’t remember Ambrose?” your father asked and you nodded, even if the name seemed vaguely familiar.

“Maybe that accident is a miracle then” your mother murmured and your eyes widened at such words “No, I mean… I’m so sorry you’re in pain and you have no idea how terrified your father and I were when we got called by the hospital but… Ambrose is… a bad place with a lot of bad people, and it’s for the best if you don’t have to remember it anymore. Trust me, it’ll make things a lot simpler” your mother explained and you tried to believe her.

All the time you spent at the hospital, you had only two things in mind: the name of Ambrose and the red string. One night, you had asked about it to your parents, because you knew you could trust them.

“Oh so you can still see it?” your mother hummed

“In your mother’s family, one person per generation can see the string attaching them to their soulmates” your father explained “and in this generation, it’s you. You’ve always been able to see it, since the moment you were born.”

“And I didn’t follow it?” you asked

Your parents stayed silent for a little moment.

“Sometimes soulmates aren’t a good thing” your mother finally replied

“I don’t understand” you replied “if the string…” you started but your parents cut you off

“Please, baby, promise me you won’t try and follow it.” she begged you and you looked up at your father, trying to understand

“Your mother is right… There is a reason why your soulmates aren’t there by your side” your father added

“Soulmates? Plural?” you frowned “Wait you know who they are?!” you exclaimed

“Yes, unfortunately. You grew up all together. And you always said the red strings were attaching you all. And we always hoped it wasn’t true. When you got old enough to understand what it was, we couldn’t deny that they were your soulmates. But they are bad people. Their parents were dangerous, and those children…” your mother said

“A family of monsters.” your father ended

“They live in Ambrose?” you asked

“Lived. We don’t know now, and it doesn’t matter, because when we left, you agreed it was for the best. Awful things happened, and that is why we’re so happy you don’t remember any of it. You don’t have to bear this burden anymore” you mother continued

“You just need to never follow the red string, to actually stay far away from it, and everything will be alright. We know that sometimes you feel sad over the loss of your soulmates, but now you are free from that feeling.” your father added, quite hopeful it would be a new start for you.

Sadness.

Yes, that was definitively what you were feeling as you were quietly watching the red string. You didn’t remember your soulmates, but your heart definitely remembered them and what was forever gone.

From what your parents told you, you had been away from your soulmates for over a decade. You couldn’t imagine how terrible it must have been for yourself: knowing you had soulmates, knowing them, knowing where they were, knowing how to easily find them, and yet deciding to stay away from them. Your father had to be right, they had to be monsters or you wouldn’t have been able to stay away from them.

You didn’t realise tears were cascading down your face, until a nurse came to check on you and worriedly asked you if you were alright. You gently shook your head and tried to smile at him. 

It wasn’t just sadness.

It was as if something was missing. It was a hole inside your chest. It was such a cruel and violent desire that you couldn’t satisfy, and it burning you from the inside. You knew that curiosity killed the cat, and with everything your parents told you, you couldn’t have a look at Ambrose or at the end of the red string. It was too dangerous.

You needed to take the chance that you were granting, you needed to move on and to forget about the red string. Maybe that if you were focusing on other things, you could pretend it didn’t exist.

In a way, it was indeed easier, because you didn’t know what you were missing. Or at least, you knew that what was missing was actually something toxic for you and it was better to not have it in your life. You didn’t have any kind of tender memories with those people that would haunt you at night. You even tried to convince yourself that your soulmates weren’t loving or caring about you that much, otherwise they wouldn’t have let you go or they would have found their way back to you. If over a decade, they hadn’t been able to do so, it meant that you didn’t matter that much.

Yes, it was alright, you didn't want something you didn’t know anyways. It was alright if in this existence, you didn’t live with your soulmates either.

Soulmates are such an overrated concept anyways, right?

Trying to get better and out of the hospital allowed you to put the red string aside. Then you worked hard to get back to a normal life.

At night, you were welcoming the pain of your broken ribs, because it allowed you to focus on something else. 

Months went by and the accident was just a souvenir now. The only thing it left behind was this “luck” of not remembering Ambrose or your soulmates. You pretended everything was alright in front of your parents, your friends, your colleagues. Yes, you were happy, you were doing well, you were living a perfectly quiet and peaceful life. 

But at night, even in the complete darkness of your room, the crimson string was still there, hanging above your head.

Sometimes, you even woke up in the middle of the night, as if the string had tried to pull you by the wrist or the ankle out of your bed. One evening, you even found yourself talking to it, even if you knew it wouldn’t answer you.

“What’s the point? What’s the point of showing me the way to them, if they are bad for me? Aren’t soulmates supposed to bring you happiness and not just sorrow and pain? My parents told me it was better without them, so why are you still there? Why are you still trying to bring me back to them? I forgot about them, about Ambrose. I could be at peace, but no, you have to be there and to remind me they are waiting for me somewhere I don’t want to go anymore. I mean… My parents told me I don’t want to go. And I believe them. They are my parents and… I know that I feel something like fear when I try to remember about that place and them. And it’s not fear about remembering all the awful things that happened, it’s fear of them. So why can’t you just leave me alone?”

You grew obsessed with fairy tales and fanfics talking about soulmates. You tried to cope, in a way, and to forget about your reality. You needed to imagine another existence in which you would have good people awaiting for you.

One afternoon, you were basking in the sun with a book laying on your lap. You were enjoying the soft wind kissing your face as you were leaning against the bench you were sitting on. Everything was alright. You closed your eyes and just relaxed in this quiet atmosphere. You took a deep breath before looking around you again. You watched the red string weaving between strangers, dancing in the street, inviting you to follow it, like always.

When the desire to follow it was getting too strong, you always called your mother. You never told her what it was about, you just pretended you wanted to chat around with her. 

One time, you asked her about soulmate and the red string.

“Why are some of us able to see it?” you asked her and she sighed

“We don’t really know. My grandmother always said we had been curse by an evil witch” she tried to laugh

“You don’t believe it?” you wondered

“Before I just thought she was crazy, because she could see her string and her soulmate was a criminal. But now I don’t know” she admitted

“What do you mean, her soulmate was a criminal?” you frowned

“He was a killer actually. It seems that whenever a member of the family sees the red string, it means the soulmate will have hands covered in blood.” she said

“So my soulmates are killers too?” you shivered

“I never said that. But they are toxic and wild animals. Their parents were the worst” your mother replied

“Did they hurt me? Did her soulmate hurt your grandmother?” you questioned some more but were met by silence “Mom?” you called after a little while, wondering if she was still on the phone

“It’s… complicated” your mother replied and after that you hadn’t been able to get any more answers from her.

And it woke up something in you: they were your soulmates, so they couldn’t hurt you.

And you needed to follow the red string.

--

Part 2

[namsgyu]

gu dae-hong nsfw hcs

warnings: smut!! nsfw!! read under the cut hehe <3

a/n: my first time writing for him!! pls be nice :”) i really liked jaewon’s role in doubt!! if you guys have free time, pls watch it he’s such a cutie <3

sweet boy gu dae-hong doesn’t have a harmful bone in his body. sex with him is always gentle! he never calls it fucking. uses more romantic and sensual words like ‘love making’ or ‘passion’ to describe the act

he will always make you cum before even thinking about touching himself!

dae-hong loves to set the mood by lighting a few candles, setting them on the nightstand next to the bed

when you two are having sex, he’s so cautious! always asking you if anything hurts, or if you feel uncomfortable

definitely big on foreplay! he doesn’t want to see you in pain, so he definitely preps you well before having sex <3

his favorite thing is when you moan his name as he’s thrusting into you! hearing you moan out for him gets him going

he loves praising you! when he’s slipping his cock into you, he actually starts to babble ‘sweet little thing, taking me so well yeah?’

if you’re going down on him, he doesn’t pull your hair or shove your head down onto his cock or anything. dae-hong opts for holding your hand instead! claims it helps keep him grounded because your head game is just too good

also, if you’re going down on him, he always warns you when he’s about to cum! the first time you swallow after he finishes in your mouth, it drives him crazy!! he definitely pulls you in for a heated kiss after

his favorite position is missionary and he’s proud of it! loves seeing your reactions as he makes you feel so so good

he also loves the feeling of you wrapping your arms around his neck during missionary, the feeling of you holding onto him during the intimate act is so important to him!

he’s very sensitive! if you decide to leave a few hickeys on his neck, he can’t help the small gasps that leave lips as you mark him up

gu dae-hong is a switch, and he doesn’t mind admitting it!! sometimes after a long day at work, he actually prefers it if you take the lead!!

when you guide him in pleasing you, he’ll obediently obey your commands, he’s just glad he doesn’t have to think about anything!

absolute king of aftercare! when you both are done, he’s quick to get you water and a towel. occasionally, he’ll also run a bath for the both of you!

dae-hong loves a good pillow talk session after sex! always needs to confirm with you if he was too rough or if you liked the way he touches you. pls reassure him!

☆彡

thanks for tuning in!! feedback is read and appreciated <3

tag list

@namgyucat @dgaftilwedie @cybrasigilism @nuttybeans @miss-conjayniality @rohjaewonlvr @ffsjustletmesleep @allmyocsarebritish @namgyushands @celestialmatcha7 @preppyfella @princeofkhaenri-ah

[velvrei]

Could you possibly write a axel x reader where the reader starts off training in miagy do and then like the whole team thinks she doesn't deserve to be captian and they all shame her for it kind of, and then she switches to the iron dragons the day of the tournament with her bf axel and miagy do is in compete shock because of her better fighting skills and they all try to convince her to go back but she's shuts them down?

yes i got you #revengeera

…

you’ve given everything to miyagi-do. every bruise, every aching muscle, every hour of your life spent perfecting your form, your balance, your control. you trained harder than anyone, pushed yourself past exhaustion, stayed late when everyone else went home. but it never mattered to them.

when sensei names you captain, the room goes silent. for a moment, you think they’re just processing it, but then come the whispers. the doubtful looks. the side conversations you’re not supposed to hear but do anyway.

“why her?” hawk would whisper.

“she’s not even that good.” sam would say just from pure jealousy.

“this has to be a joke.” demetri would cackle as he spoke.

“someone else should’ve gotten it.”

it’s like a punch to the gut, harder than anything you’ve ever taken in a fight. you thought you were part of a team. you thought they had your back. but now you see it clearly—they never really respected you. they never believed in you.

for weeks, it eats at you. the way they barely listen when you try to lead, the way they hesitate to follow your calls, the way they exclude you from conversations. sensei tells you to ignore it, to prove yourself through action, but why should you have to? why should you have to prove anything to people who’ve already made up their minds?

so you make your choice.

the day of the tournament, you don’t show up with miyagi-do. instead, you walk in wearing the iron dragons gi, standing beside axel.

his hand brushes against yours, grounding you, reminding you why you made this choice. because he’s always believed in you. because the iron dragons see your worth in a way miyagi-do never did.

the moment they see you, the shock on their faces is almost laughable. wide eyes, dropped jaws, whispered exclamations of “no way” and “is this real?” but the real surprise comes when you fight.

they expected you to be rusty, to be worse without them. instead, you’re faster, stronger, sharper. every movement is precise, every strike lands with perfect control. you dominate the mat, taking down your opponent in record time.

miyagi-do watches in disbelief. this isn’t the fighter they doubted. this isn’t the girl they underestimated. this is someone they never truly saw before.

after your match, a few rush to you, desperation in their voices, especially johnny and daniel.

“what are you doing? you don’t belong with them.” daniel spoke, worried.

“your team does not respect me.” you’d say, but he wouldn’t listen.

and they’d just start begging again.

“come back. we can fix this.”

“we didn’t mean it, okay? we were just surprised. you are a good fighter.”

you look at them, the same people who made you feel small, who only care now that you’re proving them wrong. and you shake your head.

“you only want me now because i’m winning.”

they scramble for more words, but you don’t care to hear them. they had their chance, and they blew it. you turn away, walking back to your real team, the one that actually supports you.

axel smirks, nudging you lightly. “they look pissed.”

you smirk back. “not my problem.”

and with that, you leave them behind, stepping into the future you chose for yourself.

…

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if you’d like to be added to this taglist, dm/message me OR comment on any of my posts to be added!

[coldilikeit]

Chapter 1: The sleepy familiars

Male reader

✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𓅓 ₊˚.✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

"Quick! We have to catch them!" A little Blue haired girl runs into the surface to the nowhere space to the surface to the nowhere space again with a human boy and a witch behind her

A stupid Nisse stole Frieda's magic wand claiming to be a 'witch in training'

Yeah right!

Nisse's can't be witches! Can't they?

They enter the surface and see that the Nisse is being held tight by a little boy

"uhh.. it bumped into me.. I caught it" the boy says meekly

"it's actually a she, and she stole my magic wand!" Frieda gets closer and snatches her wand back, the Nisse gets out of the boy's hold and runs to the nowhere space again

"No wait- urgh we can't follow her now! How do we get home?!" Hilda groans

"you don't happen to know your Nisse?" David asks meekly "Can we uhh... Borrow them?"

"We're running out of time! We need to get back to the library or else the familiars will forever be asleep!" Frieda panicks

It was now Hilda's turn to panic "And if we don't get there in time, I'll fall asleep too!"

"that's sounds fun... Can I join?" The boy says "I'll ask my Nisse for help" he smiles

"oh splendid! The more the merrier! I'm Hilda, that's David and Frieda, they're my friends, Frieda's a witch and I'm her familiar"

"I'm (Name)! It's nice to meet you all, I was getting bored, there's not much to do here"

✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𓅓 ₊˚.✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

A witch lost her familiar and in grief, cast a spell that makes other familiars sleepy so no one would get familiars

What an adventure.

You've been alone for so long, trapped in the four walls of your bedroom, too afraid to get out because of your family's hostility

The witch cries "If I can't have my familiar! No one can have one!" She casts another spell and Hilda falls asleep "No Hilda!" David runs to Hilda

"wait! Frieda! Don't cast anything! Something's not right!" You yell "What! I can't hold this spell much longer! She'll get to us!"

The symptoms of the witch's cat, The cat started eating a lot but keeps on puking it anyway... And hasn't been seen for 8 hours...

"Miss witch! Hold on please! Don't hurt the other familiars! Your cat is just fine!" You tell the rampaging witch, she stops casting spells and destroying the library and looks at you intently

"what do you mean?" She glares

"does your cat have a spot they feel safe in?" You ask "We have to go there!"

She looked puzzled but hopeful, she just wants to see her familiar again

She leads the four of you into her lair and up the attic, in the attic there's a small empty fireplace that hasn't been used for ages, it seemed like the cat turned that fireplace into a nest...

"aww... She had kittens" David coos and he plops a sleeping Hilda down a chair in the attic, "Cats usually give birth for about hours... And they find a safe secluded space" you smile

"Now can you undo your spells on the familiars!?" Frieda glares

"uh- yes! Of course... It seems I overreacted.." she fixes her glasses

"Oh did you!?"

✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𓅓 ₊˚.✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

The witches hug their now awake familiars, the matter has been resolved

"Do these things happen to you guys a lot?" You ask

"yeah... But they're fun,Such is the life of an adventurer" Hilda bows and you and the other two giggle

"would you like to join us for the future escapades? It would be nice to have another boy in the group" David suggests

You fiddle with your hands "If you'd like me to join"

"Then it is official! We have another member!" Frieda announces, Hilda tilts her head "You live far away tho.."

"that's not a problem for me, my Nisse loves to travel, and I'm kind of the only one who speaks to him, and my family doesn't really care when I'm gone" you smile

✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𓅓 ₊˚.✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

ILOVWHILDA

Also they are 11