#i love scotty to be honest

[5sospenguinqueen]

Pocket Money | Lance Stroll x Reader

Summary: Since the start of the relationship, fans have been convinced you're only with Lance for his money. When he mentions your future in an interview, they accuse you of trying to baby trap him.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst but mostly just for sadness. Hateful fans.

Female reader with various facelaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

A bit different to the other three.

next.

Main Masterlist

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YourUserName just posted

liked by lancestroll, chloestroll and others

YourUserName lovely london was kind enough to be sunny for me this weekend 🇬🇧

2,385 comments

chloestroll i’m still so jealous that you didn’t take me

→ YourUserName yes but if i had, i’d have spent the entire time trying to stop you from running off with a brit. i doubt scotty would appreciate that

→ scottyjames31 do NOT let her run off with a british man

→ YourUserName make sure you behave yourself then

User1 oh, so she’s on yet another holiday funded by her sweet, naive boyfriend who can’t tell he’s with a gold digger

User2 that’s it sweetheart. post pics of your trip that your boyfriend undoubtedly paid for whilst he’s busy racing all weekend without your support

User3 she’s quite possibly the worst wag. give the role to someone who would enjoy being there

→ User4 it’s not a fucking role, sweetheart. being someone’s fiancée is not a role you play, and i think y/n happens to do an amazing “part”

danielricciardo bring me back some crunchies

→ YourUserName no, i got into trouble last time. your trainer told me that you’re not allowed them

→ danielricciardo boo, you whore

User5 so she’s on yet another weekend away in london the same weekend that lance is racing in jeddah? can she make it anymore obvious that she doesn’t support him?

→ User6 her job means she has to travel a lot - just like lance - so unfortunately she cannot follow him around the world

→ User7 you tell ‘em, honey. y/n is a successful businesswoman but everyone seems to forget that? she makes every race when she can but sometimes she can’t get out of work

→ User8 at the end of the day, their relationship is none of our business

astonmartinf1 missing your face in the paddock this weekend

→ YourUserName i miss you too! although i bet nando is enjoying the peace and quiet

→ astonmartinf1 can neither confirm nor deny but he did mention something about yapping

User9 this is so cute. the way his whole face lights up when he’s asked about/talks about her

User10 not lance revealing that y/n would run away and marry him just to call him her husband

→ User11 yes! but he’s so dedicated to giving her the wedding she wanted since she was a child. these two have my whole entire heart 🥰

User12 ugh, where can i get a lance stroll? the way he loves his fiancee 😍 and not him being desperate to have babies with her

User13 so is this confirmation that y/n is pregnant? like, if he wants a baby in a year, then..?

→ User14 wouldn’t surprise me. if they get married, he can still make her sign a prenup and divorce her without a worry, but a baby would tie him to her for life so she can continue to spend his money

→ User15 okay but i’m with you on this. it’s the best way to ensure she can keep him around in some way because let’s be honest, their relationship doesn’t seem the best

→ User9 what the fuck is wrong with you two. where in that entire interview were you getting the impression their relationship is on the rocks? he’s literally planning an entire life with her???

→ User15 yeah and where is she? unbothered in london. she’s only with him for the money and that’s the only reason why they’re engaged.

→ User13 they’re engaged because they love each other! he’s also the one who said he wants her to have his children so he can keep her home????

→ User14 no they’re engaged because for some reason, he’s infatuated with her and she’s only using him, and she’s clearly tricked him into wanting children without realising that’s further entrapment

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YourBrother just posted

liked by danielricciardo, yourbestfriend and others

YourBrother when sprout takes time out of her busy life to visit, Nonna cooks a whole feast (can you tell who the favourite is) tagged: YourUserName

879 comments

YourCousin the only reason we look forward to y/n coming home is because nonna feeds us GOOD

→ YourCousin2 agreed, nothing to do with us missing y/n at all

→ YourUserName this is why i left 😂😭

User1 anyone else find it odd that she’s in a different country again on race weekend? i mean, i know her and lance were still a couple last month but i’m starting to wonder if that’s changed

→ User2 she’s also not been active on socials despite that being part of her job description?

→ User3 can you blame her when everyone constantly hates on her

→ User4 being on media isn’t part of her job, she just liked to share her adventures with us and some of you arseholes ruined that.

User5 oh my gosh, her parents are so cute together. i want to be like that when i’m older

→ User6 and her brother and SIL curled up in the chair together. this family really do produce the cutest couples

→ User7 looks like the only absent spouse is lance :(

→ User8 um because he’s currently in china? he has more important things to be doing??

User9 i love that her brother's first idea to cheer her up is to give her beer

→ User10 well, at least we know she’s not pregnant currently

→ User11 thank god. we know lance is free from her in that aspect

→ User9 seriously? making these comments on twitter wasn't bad enough, you people are actually commenting on her BROTHER’s instagram

(Comments have been disabled for this post)

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astonmartinf1 just posted

liked by estebanocon, YourUserName and others

astonmartinf1 our first race back in shanghai sees a p7 finish for fernando with the fastest lap. lance comes home in p15 after contact earlier in the race

1,443 comments

User12 literally give the seat to anyone other than lance stroll please

User13 can we all stop hating on lance, please? it was an accident, they happen

User14 not him blaming danny ric. sweetie, the car has brakes for a reason

User15 danny ric was fuming but also seemed like he was trying not to be

→ User16 no literally. it was like he was trying not to say something but in one interview slipped up and said that lance has been really distracted due to issues at home

→ User17 i saw that! and the way he ran away after like ‘oo the team is calling me’

→ User18 are we smelling a breakup?

User19 i personally think lance stroll shouldn’t be in f1 but can we take a moment to think that whilst it was really bad driving, he’s not been himself lately? he looks really sad in all the media things

→ User20 literally, like he’s constantly coming under hate for his fiancée, and then she hasn’t been to any races recently and he’s not talked about wedding planning once. this is the man who was telling everyone about his wedding even if they didn’t ask

→ User1 maybe he realised that his girlfriend was a gold digging bitch

→ User2 literally. he talked about having children with her and then realised that meant she’d never leave

→ User3 you people are actually crazy. how do you turn a man talking about wanting children into the woman he loves trying to baby trap him? y/n has never talked about wanting kids

→ User4 this. like i definitely think they’ve broken up but for all we know, it could be that lance was talking about children and y/n realised she wasn’t ready/didn’t want them.

User5 can’t believe people are still running the baby narrative. we know nothing about their relationship because they’re quite a private couple - and after this, we can see why - and yet people have somehow created a whole drama about babies from nothing

User6 i know lance is one of the more private f1 drivers but i really think he needs to comment on this? the amount of hate y/n is getting is insane and shouldn’t be ignored

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YourUserName just posted

liked by estebanocon, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName the view from my office is better than yours. sorry, not sorry

863 comments

BestFriend i’m looking for a woman in finance, trust fund

→ YourUserName you know you’re welcome to my trust fund anytime

→ BestFriend the best sugar mommy i’ve ever had

YourBrother congratulations on your promotion, shithead. one step away from ceo!

User7 wait why did no one tell me she was running a company?

→ User8 babe, we’ve been telling you bitches this from the start! but none of you listened

chloestroll congratulations, business barbie 💕

→ YourUserName thank you, music barbie 🤍

→ User3 so chloe is still here? does that mean we’re still getting a wedding

→ User9 idk. lance isn’t in the likes..?

→ User10 @ chloestroll please tell us what you know. Some of us are rooting for them to end up together

User11 so she goes radio silent for three months just to come back and pretend like she has a job? nothing about the man she supposedly loves?

→ User12 seems shady to me. you got caught out for being a gold digger so now you’re going to act like you actually go to work?

→ User13 i really hate people like you

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Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @elijahslover @gaypoetsblog @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @raizelchrysanderoctavius @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @leclercsluvs @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (4)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, shitty boyfriend, the reader doesn’t take shit from no one, sexy mobsters, slow burn (kinda), implied character's death

A/N: This is a shorter, interlude chapter. I wanted to go straight for the smut but decided against it because…I’m a tease :)

Indecent Proposal (3)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“What’s this?” Steve holds up your scrapbook. “That’s pretty. It looks like you put a lot of effort into this book.”

“It’s a scrapbook,” you sigh, and grab the book. “Forget it. Whatever I dreamed of back then will never come true. Maybe I should burn it.”

“What do you mean, doll?” Bucky worriedly places his hand on your shoulder. “What did you dream of? And why do you think this will never come true?”

You sigh again. “Mr. Barnes, with all due respect, look at the mess my life is right now. My boyfriend sold me to you. And whatever you want from me is far from love. All you want is my womb.”

Steve frowns deeply. They didn’t think so far. All they had in mind was to make you theirs and fill you up. “Doll…we…” Steve shakes his head. “Buck?”

You wave them off. “No biggie. Life fucks you over most of the time. It could be worse, right? Scott could’ve cheated on me with his ex and sold me to his bosses.” You chuckle darkly. “Oh-wait. He just did that.”

“Y/N, we are not so bad,” Bucky grins at you. “We promise to never cheat on you. You are the missing piece Stevie, and I were looking for all our lives.”

You sneer. “Let’s try to be painfully honest. You want to stuff me with dick and knock me up. There is no way out for me. How could I escape you and your husband?”

You walk toward your bedroom, ignoring their boring looks. If they force you to accept your fate, you won’t roll over and just take it.

“You stole her scrapbook?” Bucky grins as his husband thumbs through your scrapbook. “You are a dangerous man, Mr. Rogers.”

“She wanted me to throw it away,” Steve huffs. “I took it with me to find out more about Y/N than her blood type and what she does for a living. If we want this to work out, we should…”

“Buy her flowers,” Bucky suggests. “And invite her to live with us.”

“Slow down, Buck. We should ask her on a date first. But flowers are not the worst gift for a first date.”

“How about we murder her enemies too,” the brunette grins darkly. “I know she doesn’t want us to kill Scottie boy, but I’d love to do more to him than break a few bones.”

“You know…” Steve dips his head and smirks darkly. “We could just let him disappear because he fucked with us. He lied and broke our deal by not telling Y/N about the deal.”

“I love how you think,” Bucky cups Steve’s face, looking him deep in the eyes, “and I love you, baby. You know that, right? Y/N is going to be an addition, but she’ll never take your place.”

“Buck, if I’d believe for one second you want to replace me you would end up bending over the table, your ass spanked raw,” Steve chuckles at his husband’s expression. “Oh, you’d love that, huh?”

“We will see, Stevie…we will see…”

“Far well, Scottie boy.” Bucky locks his gun and tugs it away. “This was much too fast and painless for that bastard. I should’ve broken a few bones or cut him open.”

“A shot straight through the heart. Good job.” Steve leans over Scott’s lifeless body. “Y/N can never know we killed him after she asked us to not do it.”

“We did it for us, not her. Y/N’s hands are clean. She had nothing to do with this, Steve. But I agree. She should never get to know about what happened tonight.”

“She wanted a dress like that for her wedding? Nice. Very nice.” Steve is obsessed with your scrapbook. He read every line and looked at every picture. Steve even ran his fingers over the fabric samples.

“Stevie, what are you doing with the scrapbook? Do you want to find the perfect wedding dress for her or more?”

“I want to get to know her better. Y/N put a lot of effort into creating this book. We should take our time and find out what she wants and likes.”

“Hmm…that’s not the worst idea, Steve. Give me that.” Bucky snatches the book out of Steve’s hands. “Let’s see what we can do for our doll…”

[landograndprix]

My yellow ✾ d.r

summary: you're not the only two who love your marriage.

requested: yes!

a/n: I'm having way too much fun with these, please keep requesting them 🥺

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y/nricciardo

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 802,786 others

tagged: danielricciardo

view all 1,421 comments

y/nbabees here she goes again, what is the context bestie????

danieldr3 what love language is this?

y/nricciardo tough loving

charlos5516 and they say romance is dead

loverskies29 Daniel is holding up 4 fingers...4th album soon? 👀

y/nluvu god I hope so it's been too long :(

danielricciardo exploiting your husband again?

y/nricciardo so he is good for something?

norrizz4 should we get the divorce papers ready? 👀

ricienation mother make new music please we've been starving, there's no crumbs left

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danielricciardo

liked by landonorris, y/nricciardo and 798,543 others

danielricciardo happy birthday to the wife who has the best husband in the world, you're so lucky to have this handsome men by your side, you should always remember this. Happy birthday, my luv. ❤️

tagged: y/nricciardo, landonorris

view all 876 comments

landos4 crying why'd you post a picture of lando 😭

leclercc_16 that's his wife, what do you mean?

y/nricciardo can confirm, I'm just a side piece.

landonorris thanks luv. ❤️

scottyjames31 love the cake, facts were spoken.

dr3ln4 watch it scotty, her next song will be about you 🤪

scottyjames31 it'd be an honor

y/nupdates y/n is a whole mood in the last picture, unbothered queen. ♡

dannyswife favorite couple 🥰

y/nricciardo posted on their story

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y/nricciardo

liked by mclaren, danielricciardo and 178,254 others

y/nricciardo something in the orange

tagged: mclaren, danielricciardo

view all 978 comments

sharlos55 supportive wife y/n activated

y/nricric you don't understand how much I've missed you on the grid, you looked fabulous once again 😍

y/nricciardo using my man's and his team to promote my new song once again? you bet your sweet ass I am. #ColorsComingSoon

y/nfan004 rip to the people who don't read the comments 😭

Bott_ass you can't just drop this out of the nowhere, I'm hyperventilating 😫

danniericario I'm convinced flipping you off is Daniel's way of saying I love you

y/nricciardo oh no, he really can't stand me but same to be honest

danielricciardo ❤️

dr3ln4 babe wake up mom and dad are being mom and dad again

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y/nricciardo

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly and 217,111 others

y/nricciardo it's been a while but after months of writing and producing with the best team ever, my new song Colors is out now on Apple music & spotify 🧡

view all 1,999 comments

zoeeeey I could've used a warning of sorts 🤯

mickschummy when have we ever had a solid release date for anything, bestie is so chaotic she'll drop an song or album whenever she wants 😭

y/nnnnn2000 we've been fed!!

redbulldanny is this song about Daniel?

y/nricciardo don't tell him, it'll boost his ego 😉

landonorris this about me, right?

charles_leclerc this will be on repeat for days!

thefridgirlies we love a bunch of supportive friends 🥰

danielricciardo big fan of this

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y/nricciardo

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 214,542 others

y/nricciardo three years ago, this man made the best decision of his life by marrying me. It's amazing how we've tolerated each other for this long but all jokes aside, thanks for making me feel loved every hour of the day ♡♡

We'll keep saying it; marry your best friend ❤️

tagged: danielricciardo

view all 1,216 comments

sainzchili happy anniversary to you 2! 💞

landonorris congrats mom and dad ❤️

landochaos have they adopted you already?

Isahernaez happy anniversary! ❤️

y/nricciardo ❤️

chilileclerc_ your up next Isa!

dannielricc 3 years?! It seems like yesterday we first saw you in the paddock 😭

danielricciardo and here i thought that we were just partners for one night. ❤️

maxmaxmax DANIEL 💀 💀

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danielricciardo posted on their story

[theemporium]

Thank youuuuu for going with my request, loved it soooo much.

Could you maybe do a Daniel x Sunshine set amid Scotty and Chloe’s wedding, and when Chloe throws the bouquet, sunshine catches it, and the entire room looks at Daniel while he blushes.

I saw a reel like this, and i can totally imagine Scotty running up to Daniel and saying “you’re next” lmao😭

So much love~💚

thank you!! and thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You had never been to Venice before you joined Daniel as his date to his best friend’s wedding.

It was a beautiful city, one that you had seen countless times in videos and pictures and movies. You always imagined it would disappoint if you ever saw it in real life, maybe that was a reason you always held back from visiting in the free time you had between each half of the seasons.

But when Daniel asked you to join him for Scotty’s wedding—someone who you had become close to as well��you had no reason to deny the invitation. And you were glad you did because it was even better than any screen or camera could ever capture.

CLICK!

You turned your head, finding your boyfriend grinning behind his camera as he clicked another picture of your expression before setting it down on the table. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers together before pressing a kiss to the back.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Daniel asked, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand.

“Just thinking,” you murmured with a smile.

He raised his brows. “Oh, that can’t be good.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed. “It’s just…so romantic here,” you said to him with a shrug. “Like, I know people always go on about Paris but this…this is something else entirely.”

He had a deeply contemplative look on his face. “Would you wanna get married here?”

You blinked, almost like you weren’t expecting the question. “I don’t know, to be honest.”

“Where would you wanna get married?” Daniel asked before he flashed you a sheepish smile. “Hypothetically.”

“Jumping the gun a bit there, Ricciardo,” you mused but there was a smile on your face too.

He just shrugged. “I like envisioning our future. I just wanna know what your version looks like.”

“And it’s a wedding?” you asked.

“Our dream wedding,” he corrected as he placed another kiss along your knuckles. “It’s gonna be everything we want and more.”

“And more?” you teased. “You’re making big promises here.”

“And I intend to fulfil them all,” he retorted playfully, his eyes glancing down to your lips. You had forbidden him from kissing you before pictures in case it ruined your makeup. But those were over now and there was no reason he couldn’t—

“BOUQUET TOSS! C’MON UP, LADIES!”

You barely got a chance to say anything as you felt hands pull you off your seat, only having enough time to give your boyfriend an apologetic smile before you were tugged into the crowd of women in the middle of the dance floor.

You stayed back, happy to just observe as Chloe moved to the front, looking like a goddamn Disney princess as she grinned at the crowd before turning her back to everyone and tossing the bouquet of flowers over her head.

You were surprised when you found them heading straight towards you.

You could hear the cheers of the other wedding guests, clapping and laughing as you glanced down at the flowers in your hands, and then almost instantly your eyes went to Daniel.

He was already staring at you, a wide grin spread across his face. He wiggled his brows playfully which only made you laugh with him, despite the heated flush covering your body at all the attention.

Daniel couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as Scotty made his way towards him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and giving him a playful shove.

“Guess it’s you next, mate, eh?” Scotty teased.

Though it seems impossible, his grin widened. “Hopefully.”

.

[lost-in-fandoms]

I had I would by 1D stuck in my head all day and 3 hours and a half of sleep so when I went to take a nap I instead lucid dreamed about coworkers maxiel

cw for infidelity i guess

daniel who has been working in the company longer than max and who is in a relationship with scotty. scotty works in the company but in a completely different department, and they try to meet for lunch a couple of times a week. one day scotty gets up and leaves after finishing his meal and max walks up to daniel and is like "he shouldn't leave you like that", because scotty didn't even give him a kiss or anything.

and daniel is like ??? because he just knows max as the guy who had been in the junior team for less than a year before being promoted in the same team as daniel and they haven't interacted that much yet outside of pure work things. and he is there commenting on his relationship? he shrugs it off and whatever. guy is weird.

they grow closer because they click and they genuinely work well together and they hang out after work sometimes so even if max keeps making these comments daniel lets it slide. it's just one of max's quirks, and let's be honest, he is kind of right sometimes.

he isn't happy in the relationship with scotty. he isn't sad either, just not happy, and he's starting to think about breaking it off, but it's comfortable and convenient and maybe they live together in scotty's place and it would be a hassle to move out? but max's comments are becoming more pointed and also daniel sorts of maybe wants to kiss him. he knows for sure max wants to kiss him back.

one day they're hanging out at max's place and maybe they had a beer or two and things escalate and they kiss. properly make out. until daniel realises he's cheating on scotty and freaks out and leaves.

the next day he tries to avoid max but max doesn't let him and asks him if scotty would tell, does tell, daniel he loves him. because he would. daniel refuses to answer (because scotty doesn't anymore. daniel doesn't either).

they're both miserable for a while, daniel feeling torn and guilty and sad, distancing himself from max while also thinking about him all the time. max watching him with big sad eyes, missing him, trying to talk to him and being shut down every time. being told to be professional.

and then daniel decides he can't do it anymore and decides to tell scotty that he kissed max. and scotty is angry and hurt, but also sort of okay with it too? because he knows that they aren't working either. maybe, in an hypocrite turn of events, tells daniel he had cheated too. they decide to break it off and daniel moves out, moving onto one of his friend's couch for the moment.

gossip mill gets working at the company and max finds out that daniel and scotty broke up and he's all giddy and happy and goes to find daniel like time to kiss now? kiss? yes kiss?? but daniel tells him no because he still needs to sort through his head. he doesn't know if he genuinely likes max or if it was because they're good friends and he was unhappy with scotty (he knows, but he needs time).

and max goes all kicked puppy, but goes. looks at him from a distance. stays professional.

and daniel hates it. he wants his maxy back :( he misses him like crazy and he finds himself reaching to touch him during meetings and being upset when max doesn't sit next to him and thinking back again and again about the kiss.

so one day he asks max if they can meet and max says yeah okay, thinking this is daniel trying to remain friends, because he's convinced himself that if the only reason why they weren't together wasn't scotty, then maybe daniel didn't really like him.

they meet at a bar somewhere because daniel did want to hang out, possibly in a neutral place, but then they're a drink in and daniel is tugging max into the bathroom to kiss him. tells him he's sorry for wasting so much time. asks max to take him home.

max is a bit confused about the development but not unhappy with it, so he takes daniel home and fucks him silly.

afterwards they talk about it all and decide to keep their relationship quiet at work for a while but they can't keep their hands off each other and get caught making out hot and heavy in the printers room.

[skipper1331]

Obsessed // Alessia Russo

Alessia and you were lying on the couch watching modern family. Well, that was the original plan, however Alessia had a different one. The TV shouldn’t have your attention. Alessia should have your attention.

"Lessi, what are you doing?" you giggled.

The striker had her hands on your sides, pulling you into her while peppering kisses all over your face.

"I‘m so obsessed with you, baby." Her eyes were nothing but full of love. Still, all these years later she made you feel like a lovestruck teenager.

Alessia often used that phrase. Because it‘s true. That girl was head over heels for you and has been since the moment she met you.

Many years ago

Alessia and her friends were playing football in the park.

And then there was you walking around with your little brother. Normally, you would be studying but your mother was still working so you had to take care of your brother. You enjoyed it though. Your brother was a little sunshine. Smiley, goofy, laughing. A boy who enjoyed his life.

"I want a dog, missy. You know? It would be so cool! I could play with him all the time. While I throw him his toy I would train my arm. So I can be like gramps." Your grandpa was an absolute legend in handball. The same passion he had, your brother has now. And to be honest your brother was quite good at it.

So the reason why you were at the park was to let him play. You knew there was a little goal which he could use. Nobody used it. You have never seen someone besides your brother use it.

As soon as he saw the goal he ran to it and threw the ball. "MISSY! HURRY UP!!!" he shouted while you walked (slowly in his eyes) to him. His shouting got Alessias attention. She and her friends a bit away. But not only Alessias attention, everyones attention. They all shared a look before they looked towards the both of you. When Alessia saw you her world stopped. You might think of it as a cliche but Alessia Russo had never seen a girl prettier than you. She watched the way you played with your brother, the way you would jump in the wrong way so the ball would go in, the way you played catch and throw.

The whole time while playing with her friends she couldn‘t focus. She was too focused on you. Too obsessed with you.

Her touch was sloppy. Her passes were sloppy. Eventually her friends gave up on having a good game. When they started their journey home Alessia thought about doing it too but she couldn‘t go home without knowing your name. She would regret it. Being bold in that moment she walked over to the two of you. "Wrong choice of sport, mate" she joked. "Hi, i‘m Al-" she couldn‘t even finish her sentence because your brother was so offended. "Excuse you! My gramps is a H-E-R-O in this sport." She didn‘t think that her choice of words would lead to this. She just wanted to get know you. "Scotty, be nice. She was joking." In that moment she could‘ve sworn that she was about to faint. Your voice was music to her ears. "I‘m Y/N"

And that‘s how your relationship started.

some years ago

Alessia and you have been a couple for about 2 years and you both couldn‘t be happier. But what Alessia was feeling right now was anything but happiness. Her day already started shitty and it only got worse. Last night she forgot to charge her phone so this morning it didn‘t have any battery. As a result she couldn‘t read your daily morning messages. In school she found out that she left her homework at home which were due today and training in general was just not it. The worst part of all was that she missed you. She wanted to be in your arms. They would make anything better. Immediately after training was finished Alessia made her way home. She knew you were at her house waiting.

You and her mom were sitting in the living room talking about the new recipe she tried a few days ago when a moody Alessia came home. She didn‘t even say hello. She just walked up to you, grabbed your hand and pulled you along with her. In her bedroom, she wordlessly laid you down on her bed and flopped onto you. Instantly your arms went around her. Her face was hidden in the crook of your neck while she inhaled your scent. "Hard day today, baby?" you asked quietly. You could feel her nod. You pressed a kiss to her temple and started tracing patterns on her back, so she would calm down. You didn’t know how long you‘ve been doing it but when you heard her sleepy voice say "I‘m obsessed with you" you knew she was about to fall asleep.

a few years ago

It was family trip time.

Alessias family had invited you to come with them to Italy. Of course you agreed. You have never been in Italy before and with all the stories Alessia told you about her nonna you were excited to meet her. Alessia loved Italy. How couldn‘t she? She loved everything about it. The food, the people, the weather, everything. And now the person she loved most came to the place she loved. She was excited. On the whole journey (the flight and car rides) to her nonnas she couldn‘t shut up about the things she wanted to show you. She was so enthusiastic and full of joy that you couldn‘t stop smiling (at her).

In the first week Alessia showed you around, took you on romatic dates and you, her and her family had almost every night a game night. It was perfect.

One night her nonna made dinner (she always did but this time it was different) she asked you if you wanted to learn how to make a real italian lasagna. You didn’t let that opportunity slip through your fingers. Her nonna showed you how to make the perfect lasagna and while she taught you it she also taught you some italian words and phrases.

Alessia was head over heels. She loved that her nonna liked you, she loved that you and her nonna connected so well. She felt special because you were special. Her nonna had never asked someone who was not blood related to help her make her lasagna. Not one of her brothers girlfriends, nobody. The only thing Alessia could do was watch. She watched you the whole time with big heart eyes. "You really love her, don‘t you?“ her brother asked, snapping her halfway out of her trance but not completely. “Yeah. I‘m so obsessed with her.“ she answered honestly, still with her eyes fixed on you. What she didn’t realize though was that her answer was in fact loud spoken. Not in a whisper like she thought. "I always knew you‘re obsessed with me“ giggling you pressed a kiss on her cheek. Her face turning a deep shade of red. "Look at the lasagna we made!“ you stated with so much pride in your voice. You were really proud of that lasagna, hoping it would taste good. "It looks almost as amazing as you“ your lover replied whilst smacking her arm around your waist. "smooth“ the other Russo brother laughed.

The rest of the night was filled with a delicious meal, laughing and enjoying each others presence. That night was one of the happiest Alessia ever had. She was in the country she loved, around the people she loved most. She was at peace.

present

"Still? Years later?“ you whispered against her lips, an inch away. ”Yeah“ she breathed.

With that being said she kissed you. She kissed you like there was no tomorrow. She kissed you like you were the only girl in the world (because for her you were). She kissed you like she would do it for the rest of your lives.

After all those years Alessia was still obsessed with you and neither of you wanted it any other way.

—————————

[edutainer2022]

With Jeff's return, there's a new dynamics of there now being two father figures on the island. And some unaddressed logistical and legal issues arise. This is a Jeff and Scott story. I'm always fascinated with them navigating things new and old, post Zero-XL.

As ever, many thanks to @janetm74 for support! Another night of bombings brings on a fic.

TWO FATHERS (TWO SONS)

Being dead was tedious, as it turned out. But not as tedious as coming back to life. The paperwork alone was threatening to swallow them whole. Jeff had a strong suspicion he hadn't even been privy to the worst of it - Scott handling the steel cage fights with the various red tapes across various countries, Tracy Legal, the TI Board, and the GDF. With a strong, if discrete, assistance of John's hacking and communication skills, he suspected (but never asked, for plausible deniability). He was more than greatful for that. His own energy was mostly channeled to gruelling rehabilitation and reacclimitization, and to not going insane from joy of being with his loved ones again. He was prepared to wrestle back every second the exile in deep space cut off his life expectancy. Truth be told, he'd be more than happy to let it all be and just stay on the island, basking in awe at his amazing boys and friends. But his sons were adamant the world got Jeff Tracy back, reinstated to his full glory - Scott's the strongest voice in the chorus. So he rolled with it. He could never again deny his eldest anything.

He might have kept to himself the increasing worry over the hue of grey pallor and deepened frowns exhaustion was casting over Scott's features those days. Every trip to the States or elsewhere to deal with the ever arising issues - an unseen struggle. Jeff's return was supposed to lift the burden off of his boy's shoulders, not add to it.

He was lounging on the couches that afternoon too, waiting for Scott to come up from the hangars. One just landed into the pool, heralding Scott's return from yet another trip to New York. In the meantime Jeff busied himself with going over more rescue logs. A habit he tried to dedicate whatever spare time he got to. Dear God, there were so MANY rescues over the past almost decade. So MANY close calls.

The elevator clicked and Scott came round the corner, his suit jacket already off, tie loosened. The young man's face looked wane, lost in thought. Jeff waited till Scott sat down next to him on one of the couches. He'd adopted another new habit - to ask how his boy's were openly and mean it. To process every word for concealed pain. But Scott was more or less an exhibit of how he felt - forehead pinched in a frown and eyes squeezed against a building headache. Jeff was half of a mind to skip chat (and possibly a nightcap) and altogether to order his son to bed, braving The Look. But Scott spoke first.

"Dad, I need to fly you in to see the lawyers and the judge next time. To transfer custody."

Oh... Jeff hadn't given it much thought, all the other priorities and sensations vying for his attention upon return. He just resumed being the boys' Dad - never for one second over the solitary years away had he stopped thinking of himself as such. But of course, Allie and Gordie having been orphaned minors, guardianship arrangements must have been made. It didn't surprise him one bit Scott had stepped up. As he did with everything else. If Jeff were honest with himself, his eldest did so a lot longer than eight years.

"Gordon aged out, but Allie's still a minor. I will need to forfeit guardianship and return parental rights to you."

There was a weariness in Scotty's voice, in his whole posture. An air of defeat. Jeff raised a hand to run a circle over the hunched back in a silk dress shirt, but his palm hovered millimeters shy of contact. It was supposed to be for the better! Their world was finally, painstakingly turning the right side up again. Scott was never supposed to be a father to the Tinies. If anything, Jeff had harbored tentative hopes his eldest might have started a family of his own by then. Yet he couldn't deny that for Gordon and even more so for young Alan - Scott was the one father figure they knew best. Allie was just a little kid when Jeff went missing, and now he was an incredible youth - brave, kind, smart, funny, exceptionally skilled and professional. He was growing up to be a remarkable man that Scott raised him. Jeff was still catching up on a decade worth of cultural trivia and technological updates, he couldn't presume to be making fully informed choices regarding the boy's future. He knew what he had to do. His hand landed on the son's shoulder finally and gave it a warm squeeze. Scott looked up, wrought with worry.

"I think we should leave it as is, Bluejay. Allie is gonna be eighteen soon, so the point is moot. This changes nothing for us here, at home. I'm your Dad. I will always be! But for the world of college funds, and insurances, and stock options - you're his parent."

Blue eyes regarded him with doubt. Scott drew in a breath to protest, but Jeff was not done.

"Allie will trust you with things he would never share with me as he grows older. Just you wait! For that you're his parent too. You have been for a while, son. I wish things were different, I wish I could lift that much weight off your shoulders. But I promise to be there every step of the way - for him and for you."

Scott's lips were moving to say something, but no sound followed. Damp blue gaze was searching Dad's face, astonished. But even despite welling tears, his son's features looked lighter. Calmer. Like an old ache got soothed. Maybe it had.

Jeff gave his elder boy's shoulder another soft squeeze and moved to stand up, having made up his mind.

"Fancy a nightcap, son? C'mon, I know you haven't worked through ALL of my good stuff. And then you're going straight to bed, Bluejay!"

He made a pointed gesture that probably resembled his own mother a bit too much. But he could indulge himself in mischief just that once. His failed attempt at a stern glare was met by a smile and mirth dancing in bright blue eyes. As Scott sprung up to follow him, sketching a salute, he could consider his goal accomplished as a father for the night.

[mossyivy]

Leon definitely did this for all his wife’s pregnancies but I think for Scottie in particular, she’s a lot older, probably got really self conscious when she started to gain weight and look more pregnant. Particularly when she’s in her third trimester, and she’s got a baby bump. Her clothes don’t fit at all and she’s uncomfortable. Of course she’s done this before but it’s different now. He’d go out of his way to make her feel beautiful, to let her know she’s still gorgeous to him. She’s also extra sensitive right now, and he’d be so gentle with her, and make sure his girls knew to be careful with what they say and do

Leon in general is affectionate to his family, especially his wife. He's extra affectionate when she's pregnant but this time around it's like he's a whole different kind of supportive man.

Constantly checking in, even a few times throughout the day. I'd imagine she goes a little stir crazy during pregnancy cause she's not able to work (Terrasave would definitely not let a pregnant woman around virus strains cause God forbid anything happen!)

Whenever he can be, Leon's home. Constantly being on the edge of overbearing but knows his limits by now with her, this ain't their first rodeo together after all. But the last two times you could bounce back pretty easily. Now this is considered a late in life or as the doctor so lovingly called it a "geriatric pregnancy" since you'd be in your 40s by now.

You can't help but dwell on all the possible issues or how you'll be after. HOW YOU'LL LOOK AFTER!

Will Leon still find you appealing?

You're honest enough with each other to come forward and talk about problems big or small. You've literally held him through full on breakdowns before. He's cared for you when postpartum hit you after having Cecilia and you felt like less of a mother for not connecting with her right away like with Violet. You're each other's rocks. Of course he'd still love you and find you just as gorgeous as the moment he laid his eyes on you.

He tells you not to worry about clothes, they're just clothes. They can fit again eventually. But he knows how you find comfort in having him around somehow. So you two start sharing a wardrobe. Sweats, t-shirts, and his jackets. It's nice having him there even if it's not physically. Even just his cologne stuck to his jacket collar is nice against your sensitive pregnancy nose. And he gets the benefit of watching you walk around in his clothes. And smiling in the bask of your glow.

He'd sit down with the girls in one of their rooms while you were napping and give them the talk. Being completely honest about how mommy's sensitive and they all need to stay aware of everything while she's like this. Cecilia wouldn't get it right away, obviously, she's younger. But Violet would understand. She'd even get into the habit of checking in on her mom and micro managing her sister whenever something came up. Talking on the responsibilities of making sure she kept her entertained so Leon could spend time with you.

It really does take a village to raise a child and you're very lucky to have people who care. To have raised 2 great girls already and have a husband who loves you unconditionally.

[astranite]

Love is Stored in the Pasta

Scott, John and pasta.

This started off from a tumblr post 'cause somebody needed to cook that guy some pasta!!

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, really very mild scott is hangrysad, ft john's space issues, Chronic Illness, as thats what im treating it as and its not the focus here he's just living with it, Scott Tracy has ADHD, this is important, Autistic John Tracy, lowkey here but also Important to me, this is fun and fluffy and i love them, i hope this is like a warm comforting bowl of pasta to you too

---

“We need to talk,” John said.

On the other side of the call, Scott’s hologram slumped over his desk, his head landing in his hands. “Oh God.”

“I found your search history…” John began.

Scott peered out sheepishly from behind his fingers. “I can explain!”

“It’s just pages and pages of pasta?” 

John was puzzled, honestly. Five to ten recipe blogs and that was Scott trying to decide what to make for dinner during a meeting or while he was struggling to concentrate on work. During lulls between callouts, he and John would sometimes debate options together. More than forty separate sites visited at 3:12pm on a Tuesday afternoon and Eos had flagged it for John, on suspicion that Scott’s computer had been hacked by a malicious entity or some other AI virus.

Scott went from double facepalm of despair to full on faceplant, his head hitting the desk with an audible thunk.

“Why so much pasta?” John questioned. Now his curiosity was piqued, he couldn’t let it go or he’d be doing EVA work later, still turning over possibilities in his mind, which wasn’t conducive to the constant concentration needed while floating around in the vacuum. Outside, any misstep would be your last.

“I dunno. I just feel like pasta,” Scott mumbled into the wood.

Scott sounded…weird. Like he was about to start laughing, or coming down with a cold.

“Scott? Are you okay?”

It had better not be another flu; corralling Scott to take care of himself was hard enough even if he wasn’t feverish. John wouldn’t be able to come down either, quarantined up in Five unless he already had it. Was the slight tug of a headache at his temples from his sinuses beginning to clog up too?

Scott hadn’t looked up yet; his shoulders were shaking. John wiggled his fingers anxiously.

“Scotty?”

Big brother’s head shot up at the nickname John so rarely used. Had John intended to provoke that reaction? The name had been a slip of the tongue but if he was was honest, he sort of had meant to jar Scott out of his thoughts. He never called Scott, Scotty unless he was scared though. And Scott not answering him did tick tick tick up his system from yellow alert into red.

“I’m fine, it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” Scott’s words ran over each other in an attempt to come first. His voice sounded oddly wet.

Tears, yes those were indeed tears dulled by holographic format, tumbled down Scott’s cheeks.

As soon as he saw John looking, Scott turned away.

Suddenly, John landed on the spark of insight that he had a hunch would crack the code to his big brother’s distress. “Have you eaten anything all day?”

Scott dug around for tissues in a drawer of the desk and gave a half shrug. “I guess not—not really? I tried to before you say anything. Got a mouthful of breakfast in and then there was a call out. Lunch didn’t happen, there was a meeting, I had to make coffee, I ran out of time. I don’t really feel hungry though…”

That did explain a few things. It was well known family lore that Virgil and Alan got hangry, and Gords went all sad and mopey. Scott and John himself though, they got …really, unstably emotional. 

So yeah, hence the unexpected bursting into tears. John got the whole shit interoception and not even noticing if you needed to eat while you were buried in work thing; Scott was way too used to ignoring his body too. 

John took a deep breath. “Scott, and I’m one-hundred percent serious about this, do you want me to come down there and make you some pasta?”

Thunderbird Five systems whirred around John in the quiet as Scott hesitated.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “Or you don’t have to, I’ll wait, Virge’ll be doing dinner in a bit anyway.”

“Virgil won’t be up until past sunset after the hours Thunderbird Two was out yesterday and into this morning,” John said gently. “You need to eat before then.”

Nor would an overwhelmed Scott and the kitchen be a good combination at this point, and John saw the moment Scott realised this, while fidgeting with the rubix cube on his desk. 

“I want to do this for you,” John told him.

Scott dashed at his eyes, sniffled a few times and finally capitulated. “Okay. Thanks, Jay.”

John smiled and signed off, heading for the space elevator. He was usually so far away, he was right now, but it was in his power to close off that distance when he needed to and today he could use that. 

He farewelled Eos; she so often missed him but the opportunities to run the space station on her own that weren’t emergencies where he was incapacitated excited her. They showed how much he had come to trust and rely on her. Plus she got full reign of their virtual chess set.

On Earth, Scott was waiting for him as the elevator docked, his hands stuck casually in his jeans pockets but looking as pale and wobbly as John felt. His face was still tearstained.

“Hey.”

“Hey to you too.” John took a few heavy steps before throwing himself at Scott, wrapping his arms around his brother tightly, all the while careful not to knock him off balance. Scott stiffened then melted into John. 

Usually that interaction went the other way around. 

Scott used the extra height space gave John to rest his head on him without having to duck down like with everyone else. John hugged him close and comfortingly as his fingers tap tap tapped their rhythm at Scott’s shoulder. All of it meant I love you.

“Pasta time?” John said eventually.

Scott nodded silently, following when John started off towards the kitchen. The raw rock wall of the hanger was rough and vividly solid in its three dimensions, as John ran his hand along it for balance as he walked that initial part. He was touching the Earth, he was in the Earth, he was on Earth.

With cold water from the fridge dispenser and the fizzy, brightly coloured tablets shook out of their tube, John made up lidded cups of electrolyte drink for himself and Scott. John needed to be sculling the stuff perpetually to stay upright down here, and he would not be at all surprised if Scott was dehydrated too. It might to something for John’s headache, could go either way for the nausea coming on.

He put a large pot on the heat. One advantage of having a stove so high powered that it could nuke anything it touched was that any volume of water boiled fast. 

An entire packet of fettuccine got tipped into the enthusiastic cacophony of bubbles. John poked at it with a pasta scoop, regretting that he hadn’t snapped the long pieces to actually fit in better. Ah well. 

He shook in an excessive-to-anyone-not-him amount of salt with a shrug ‘cause he needed it, before having another go at separating the pasta. The pasta scoop was quite an effective implement for that, there were reasons after all it was Gordon’s favourite utensil as John remembered from previous discussions. One could also use it to mash potatoes when held vertically, if one so pleased. His second favourite was the tongs as they could be clicked like crab claws and used to pinch unsuspecting siblings. 

Scott watched from his place slumped over the kitchen bench on a stool, chewing on the ragged skin at the edge of his thumbnail. He was trying to work on a couple of screens pulled up as holomonitors, as unsuccessfully as could be expected. John came over and hopped up to sit on the bench, clipping through the projected email inbox and meeting minutes so Scott dismissed them. It was with a sigh of relief.

They smiled tiredly at each other.

The pasta! John tapped at his uniform comms watch. “Eos, set a timer for the pasta, please?” John shaved the minute that had already passed off of the box time and then another couple to ensure it wouldn’t come out mushy.

“So what sort of stuff on pasta do you feel like? There’s a good lot of options you were looking at earlier.”

“We don’t have the ingredients for most of those, I checked. No eggs and no mushrooms so no carbonara. Technically that wouldn’t be authentic carbonara though. No cream cheese. We missed this week’s supply run so we don’t even have any frozen peas!” Scott threw his hands up in the air.

“Hmmm. You feel like something creamy?”

“Yeah. Honestly at this point I’d eat anything.”

John swung his legs and tapped his fingers on the counter while he thought.

“I believe some bacon is hiding in the bottom of the freezer so that’s something. And…” he trailed of as he moved his head too fast and set off a wave of dizziness as he looked around the kitchen.

“Avocado!” Scott exclaimed.

“Avocado?”

“Funny story, we ended up with several cases of them after that rescue on that farm where we saved the whole village and nearly all their trees from catastrophic flooding. They really need eating too and there’s only so much toast you can stand.”

“I have heard theoretically of putting avo on pasta and it does sound good. Mmmm bacon and avocado, John hummed. “Worth a shot?”

Scott reached towards the fruit bowl in answer, grinning at John. “Soon we will have pasta!”

John peeled off the upper half of his uniform and tied the arms around his waist in preparation. In the subtropical summer down here he was already getting too hot and while the temperature regulation built into his suit would do its best to make up for his own body’s lack thereof, it felt weird to have everything covered up from fingertips to neck down here while he was cooking.

Scott began to giggle.

“Huh?” John said, extremely eloquently.

Scott gestured at him. 

“My suit?” Was something up with his suit? The full gloved hands and sleeves flopping about without John in them had been known to amuse the lot of them on occasion, ever since he’d used the empty suit as a phoney decoy of himself to trick Eos. It was pretty funny now no one was in mortal peril and Eos was his friend.

“Your face!” Scott exclaimed.

“What’s wrong with my face?” 

John frowned. Was it his fringe that never could survive true gravity? He hadn’t gotten freckles while he’d been down all of half an hour and inside, had he? Then he looked down.

His t-shirt had a photograph of his face printed on it, and across the chest, emblazoned in neon orange read the words ‘Space Face’, courtesy of one particular fish brother. Ah yes. That.

John sighed, resting his chin on his hand to hide the smile he couldn’t quite control. “Not exactly subtle, is it? In my defence this was the only one in my closet that was clean and you can’t exactly see it beneath my suit. It’s all Gordon’s fault anyway!”

Scott was still laughing, albeit a touch hysterically and at him, but John took it as a win regardless.

Eventually Scott grabbed himself a cutting board and knife to get to work on the avocados as John carefully slipped off the bench, steadying himself on the counter as his ankles went noodley so he could handle the bacon. 

Bacon, bacon, now where had he seen that bacon? He had the image of it in his head, but that was only one piece of the puzzle, a photograph, humanly imperfect, memory woven out of instinct. Digging about in the deep freeze which the evidence pointed to as best John could tell had his fingers feeling like he’d stuck them out in space with out gloves on. They ached sharply as John cursed his crappy circulation. 

He gladly found the bacon though, lurking at the second darkest depths. He would not be willing to venture into the midnight zone of Unidentified Frozen Objects and charred dinner leftovers put away for ‘later’. He chucked the packet into the microwave and thawed out his hands by running them under lukewarm water, wincing all the while. If he’d thought this through, if he’d been smart enough, he would’ve put his suit gloves back on—his space rated, cold proof, most definitely impervious to domestic appliances gloves— and saved himself the pain.

Scott came over to rinse his avocado green hands. He dried them off then wrapped his arms around John’s waist so he could lean on him, giving in for a moment in face of daunting gravity. With Scott, he could because Scott got him; they both could.

“You alright?” And there was big brother smotherhen coming out.

John flexed his defrosted fingers. “I will be.” He turned and smushed his face into Scott’s neck for a little bit, hugging back, Scott rested his head on John’s, and they stayed there for a while.

They were both fading. The pasta would help with that, Scott really needed to eat and so did John at this point, the half a dry bagel for breakfast and another at lunch hadn’t really been enough. The trick now was finishing the task that felt as if it expanding faster by the second than the Universe, as measured by the Hubble Constant was. They could do this though. Together.

Scott chopped up the bacon roughly and John cooked it, hissing back when it spat hot oil at him. 

When Eos notified them the timer had gone off, and John had very scientifically tested the pasta was done by nomming on a bit, he called Scott over carry the large pot to the colander in the sink to strain. 

“Gravity plus boiling water plus my space noodley arms are probably not a good combo,” he laughed. 

He was getting better at knowing his limits. Scott’s smile was small and proud, he saw John.

Scott stared at the bacon with the intensity of a starved wolf with its mouth watering, then stole some pieces hot from the pan and burnt his mouth. Scoff Tracy strikes again. 

They dumped the pasta in a big mixing bowl with the mashed avocado, a little lemon juice, the bacon, and a whole lot of salt, pepper and parmesan cheese, mixing it together with the big pasta scoop.

John swayed on his feet then, grabbing onto Scott to stay upright for long enough to decide actually the best place for him right now was sitting on the kitchen floor just here. John folded himself down to the ground in a slithering pile of too long, too bendy limbs, Scott wordlessly guiding his descent. 

“You want me to grab some sporks to eat with?”

“They’re splayds, technically,” John remarked. He gave Scott the thumbs up anyway, while he rested his spinning head on his knees.

Scott waved about his ‘sporks’ acquired from the cutlery draw with a victorious grin before he sunk to the ground to join John.

John took one, passing the pasta to Scott once he was settled, lanky legs stretched out for miles, bumping into John’s.

“We forgot plates,” Scott said.

John shrugged. “At this point, who cares. We have pasta.”

“We do.” Scott blinked for a moment. “I didn’t before and I wouldn’t’ve but now we do.”

He hugged the warm pasta bowl to his chest, and when John observed more closely he saw the tears collecting on Scott’s eyelashes, sparkling in the kitchen light as he looked up at John.

“Thanks. I love you so much, Jay.”

John gave him a gentle smile, ducking to knock his forehead against his brother’s shoulder like a cat. “Love is stored in the pasta.”

Scott smiled back at him and they both dug in.

It was good pasta.

Really good pasta, because he was here with Scott and through everything they had made it, together.

[allisluv]

Please give me some Scott McCall headcanons

scott mccall deserves the entire world! head canons under the cut tori <3

• he’s definitely a cuddler and he loves being the big spoon. he can’t sleep without the sound of rain in the background.

• he loves conspiracy theories. his favs are about the illuminati.

• he’s the mom friend. you need something? scotty’s your guy. his bag is constantly stocked up with pads, tampons, tissues, a first aid kit, pencils and pens.

• he’s a huge believer in everything happening for a reason. he’s the type of person to ask google if your zodiac signs are compatible.

• hes a horrible speller and he has to get lydia to read through his work before he submits it.

• he’s a sucker for a rom-com and by the end of the movie, he will be crying.

• i think scott’s a cat person, to be honest. i feel like he’s petrified of big dogs 😭

[alexiavettel]

Ten things I hate about you

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k+

warnings: age gap, explicit language, allusions to sex, drinking, mentions to death, motorsport accident, angst sometimes, rbr mentions (ew), Horner mentions (he’s not the bad here), no use of Y/n, Daniel Ricciardo is a walking cliché (it’s actually cute for me) and Michael and Scottie are actually babies. 

summary: The ten reasons why you hate Daniel Ricciardo through the years. But remember, the line between hate and love is thin, be careful…

I hate the way you talk to me,

“What are you doing here kid? This is an adult RedBull party, you shouldn’t be here”

“Shut up Ricciardo, I deserve to be here as much as you”

“For being the boss daughter? Wow how deserving!” 

“And what are you doing here? I thought you jumped off last year”

“Y’know gal once you go Danny Ric you never want to go back, your daddy likes me so here I am”

“Dear god, I thought that after you were a coward and moved to Renault I would never have see you again out of the paddock” 

“You don’t what you’re talking about, girl” the older man towers over you in the corner of the saloon.

“So unbothered until someone call you coward, right? You’re childish Ricciardo, that’s what you are”

She hates when he calls her kid. 

and the way you cut your hair.

“Oh my god what have you done, cowboy?” 

“Liked the new cut, golden girl?”

“Wow stopped calling me kid, it’s a significant development Ricciardo”

“Want me to come back calling you kid? ‘Cause I don’t mind”

“Shut up, and to be honest no. I don’t like it, the new cut just shows your age better you’re almost going bald man be careful” you said laughing.

“What wait really?”

“Your hairline looks like circuit corners, to be honest. But hear my wise words big boy, let it grow more than you’re used to. Curls look good on you”

Daniel always have his curls looking good now. 

I hate the way you drive my car.

“C’mon girl, you drunk too much” 

“OH DANIEL! What are you doing here, handsome?!” you might had a little too much long island iced teas

“M’gonna take you home, come on” he took your both hands and led you to the exit

“What about my car? She’s my precious daughter I can’t leave Daisy alone!”

“You named your car? You scare me sometimes little girl… You’re lucky I took an Uber, ‘gimme the keys” 

“Don’t talk about Daisy like that!” you drunkenly shouted in the parking lot

“You’re joking you drive a manual! You have a fucking Supra what are you? Brian O’Conner?” he put you in the passenger seat and belt you on.

“Not like you’re not a fucking formula one driver, huh? Lucky me! And don’t talk about Daisy like t-that she’s purple not orange like in fast and furious” He just rolled his eyes and started driving.

“Didn’t know you could drive, even more a manual”

“You say that because you never saw me drifting”

They spend the next night drifting in an empty parking lot. 

I hate it when you stare.

“What are you looking at mate?” Nico asked the younger man

“N-Nothing” he stopped staring at you across the paddock

“Hmm ‘nothing’ right? The ‘nothing’ you mentioned is that one covered in Red Bull merch staring back smiling right now?” Daniel immediately looked back searching for your smile but just found you laughing at one of Albon’s jokes.

She felt his eyes burning into her, she always did. 

I hate your big dumb combat boots,

“Ouch! Daniel!” You shouted after he stepped on your foot in the middle of a dinner at your dad’s house with some friends, former drivers. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean it” he gently caressed your hair with an apologising smile 

“Okay but why the fuck are you wearing combat boots? It’s a dinner Dan, I thought you had a better sense of style”

“Sorry darling it’s not about the boots, it’s my big feet and y’know what they say-“

“Shut up, Ricciardo”

He gifted her a pair of combat boots on her birthday. She wears it at every opportunity. 

and the way you read my mind.

“Stop. Stop thinking too much” he caressed your cheek 

“But I am not-“

“Yes you are, I can almost hear your thoughts and I know they are plenty. Just don’t make a big deal out of it, if you want to stop and pretend I never kissed you we can do it…”

“No-"

He kissed her goodbye that night, and did it almost all the others nights too. 

I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme.

“I have something for you… I asked Michael to put it in your driver's room” you quietly whispered while passing through him in the McLaren hospitality 

“Late valentines' gift, darling?” he said laughing.

“Maybe…”

You were scared of being a little too fast, but it was inevitable. You hate the things he makes you feel.

When the man found the sunflowers in his bed he was beyond surprised. But the two letters between the yellow fresh plants made a glint appear in his eyes. The first one had “about you and me” written down in the envelope. 

“I have sat upon the seashore

and washed away my fears.

I have lived so many days now

that they are turning into years.

I have walked up in mountains.

I have splashed around in streams.

I have conjured up ideas

that have moulded into dreams.

I have seen a thousand faces

And I've matched a thousand smiles.

I have been to so many places

that I'm losing count of miles.

I have heard the wind, so gently,

cause the trees to creak and moan,

but I have never felt a heart

as perfect as your own”

And the second one had “about your eyes” written down in brown tint. 

“You hated your eye colour,

called it a dull and dirty brown

Wished for the deep blue of an ocean,

where admirers hearts would drown

And it pained me when I realised,

you'd never see it like I do

The way your eyes hint a story,

that I want to read right through

They hold specks of stolen sunlight,

that you'd miss with just one glance

And a depth of raw emotion,

that can freeze you in a trance

They're a fix of melted chocolate,

when I'm craving something sweet

But hold a gaze that's so unwatering,

that I find it hard to meet

I fall right down the rabbit hole,

when I look into your eyes

The brown of earth's unfettered beauty,

that I yearn to memorise

When I was tired of not belonging,

they made me feel like I'd been found

And I hope you never say again,

That your eyes are simply brown.”

He even posts pics of his eyes now.

I hate it, I hate the way you’re always right.

“You need to stop running away! You want to end this or not? You want to keep hiding us from your dad like an afraid little kid? I do EVERYTHING to be with you but in the moment it gets a ‘little too real’ you run! That’s what you always do!” Daniel never screamed at you but today has been an exception.

“You don’t understand, Daniel! It’s not just my dad, it’s a lot more complicated than that!-” you mourn sitting in the sofa

“What? Have you realised that I am ‘too old’ for you? That you are wasting your time with me? That the public and your family will criticise us?”

“You are not old for me, babe… But they will speak y’know? I hate the media speculating about me with every single driver, but what if that damages your future in another team? What if your fans start treating you differently alleging that you ‘groomed’ me since we have known each other since I was 18? What if-” you started walking towards him

“You are too much worried about me, darling. Think about yourself. Think about us, how happy we make each other. I know you’re scared, babe… But that is what would make me happier. We can wait how much you want but I’m scared too. I’m scared you’re going to leave me for someone better, you have so many options it just doesn't make sense why you chose me…” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek after

“I am never leaving you. I am just scared” his eyes gave you the comfort you were looking for, that you always searched

“But love is scary. Specially after we couldn't even tolerate each other and now we are, this” he pointed between you “I have fears and more fears with you, but our love is bigger than all of them. If you want to be with me, for real, you also have to learn to surpass your fear. We are a team, darlin’”

He was right. He always is.

I hate it when you lie.

“You are a fucking asshole, Daniel!” You shouted after closing his door.

“I am sorry-”

“No you don’t! You could’ve died, Daniel for god’s sake. You could’ve died and I would only know after receiving a hospital’s call. You lied to me, you promised ages ago that you would never… I don’t understand, like I really don’t.”

“Darling, listen-”

“Daniel, I can't hear your voice right now. It’s making me angrier and I don’t want to act irrationally”

“Can I just explain why I lied?”

“Now? No. Please go away, I really need to think. Alone.”

You don’t understand, he had a car accident during the testing for the 2021 season and said it was nothing much. You watched everything on tv and didn’t looked too bad, but you were worried either way. The g forces are too much sometimes, but he swore he was fine. Long story short, he was not. He literally disappeared for more than 24 hours and you were looking up plane tickets to Bahrain when Michael called you telling what happened.

When Daniel crashed a part of his helmet was broken, and his head hit the neck support. Obviously could’ve been worse, but the amount of blood that came out of him was scary. Michael send you some pics after you almost threatened him of death, he explained that Daniel had only a small opening in his neck. And he was conscious enough after the crash to get out of the car, message you and go walking to the medic station. But unfortunately one blood vessel has been hit in the process and he was having an internal haemorrhage.

The thing is, he was notified before the surgery and he answered your call saying that “I am completely fine darling, just gotta do some exams and gonna be back to sleep in the hotel in some hours. Don’t worry, I love you” the first time he really said those words, and could’ve been the last. 

She said I love you back. And took care of him until he was good to go back.

I hate it when you make me laugh, 

“Oh my fucking god, Daniel! My dad is going to kill us” you said laughing after being thrown in your father’s pool with Daniel. His Monza win meant more to you two than you had expected.

“He can kill me if he wants, but it was worthy. At least I’m going to die happy. I could die happy whenever I’m with you” he kissed you messily. 

“So cheesy, Dan ew. But if you really meant it, I hope it’s going to take a bit more to your death ‘cause I have no plans of ever leaving you”

“And I am the cheesy one-?”

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING HERE?” Oh that must be your dad… oops?

He always loved her laugh, even when they hated each other… The sound of her laugh always was the closest thing to heaven, for him.

even worse when you make me cry.

“1st task: word search, find your gift.”

No fucking way, Ricciardo. You say “I’m sad” in one day, and in the next you wake up with this note in the bed. The only possible answer in this messy word search was office. When you got to his office desk a box of chocolates was waiting for you, with another note, this time in the format of a heart.

“2nd task: i need to be fixed, what am i?”

Just could be the wardrobe door, that shit almost knocked you up one day. Just right, honey. You found a little cute poem with another note.

“I don't want a fairytale

ending with you.

I want to be there

to help you face

your fears and 

to help you overcome

your failures.

I want to give you

the kind of love

that's not distorted

and fabricated,

but real, raw

and honest.”

“3rd task: complete the sentence, w__r_  __  _ s_en_  m__e  __me  on  _ho_e?”

With an embarrassing amount of time, you discovered to be “where do I spend more time on phone?” and that must be the main bathroom. In the mirror lipstick were marking the words

“4th task: i am in your most peaceful place”

with a little flower in the end. There’s only one place.

When you opened the wooden door that separates the living room from the garage and garden you felt tears burning your eyes. Daniel were sitting in the garden with sunflowers, picnic basket, plenty of fruits, drinks and food in general. 

“Sorry about the lipstick I used an old one and I swear I’m gonna clean after and-”

“You’re the most cheesy, cliche and argh I don’t even know what to- I fucking hate loving you!” How could you get so lucky? This 5’10’’ aussie, who has the biggest smile, loudest laugh, the best hug ever and seems like his life mission is making you the happiest person alive.

“Darling, don’t cry please! I hate when you cry!” he walked over you

“You were the one that made me cry!” you laughed sniffing giving a kiss in his cheek

“Eh… I might actually have one more thing…”

“What? I don’t think you can surprise or make me cry even more-” you said cleaning away your tears.

“Surprise!” You were wrong. Definitely wrong. Inside the picnic basket instead of more food was a little dog puppy, which couldn’t even open his eyes properly in this light. They furr shined in the sunlight, nose slightly scrunched and tail faintly moving side to side.

She thought the first time she would cry for a man, that it’s not her dad, would be after a heartbreak not for a cliché surprise.

I hate it when you’re not around.

“I’m sorry, babe. I promise after this work I’m gonna get on the first plane to you, and then we can enjoy my summer break together. I swear”

That was the third time he said it, the only time he promised tho. It’s hard to get that much time to spend with your boyfriend, and then he still works in his holidays.

He did what he promised but after 3 days. 3 whole days of his absence, it’s different when he’s in the paddock. At least you got a bit of him, the good morning and good night texts, facetime before sleeping and the most important thing of your life: your dog.

When he is not around, she feels like the loneliest person in the world.

and the fact you didn’t call.

It has been a while since that happened but you still remember how the feeling was. The feeling of being just a piece of meat, just drunk sex, a replacement, an embarrassment or worst, a regret.

Your first time with Daniel was after his win in Monaco, 2018. Both drunk not only in tequila and whiskey but in lust. To be honest you don’t remember much of this night, but you remember him. And he remembers you. His hands were imprinted on your curves. Your fingers tangled in his hair. When you woke up in an empty bed, in a hotel room that was not yours. You remembered all too well.

You remembered that he didn’t call. You remembered that he ignored you in the garage and the paddock. When you finally got to ask (you sneaked into his driver’s room) why he was running he admitted “I just can’t even think when you are around now! All I have is memories when I look at you, and that makes me fucking mad! It makes me wanna hate you more but also makes me wanna kiss you more and fuck you more and I can’t! We shouldn’t. It’s wrong. I assume the responsibility, I’m sorry”

That was the first and last time he didn’t call.

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“So you hate loving me? Relax I hate loving you too” Daniel gave his characteristic laugh after you finished saying your poem at the end of your wedding vows.

•

“We are a team, in this life and all the others". That was the end of his vows, you could see he was shaking the entire time. You risk it looking at Michael and Scottie (obviously the best men) and they were crying like babies, pretty much more than you. 

“See why I hate loving you, Ricciardo” you mentioned cleaning your tears half laughing and you could hear the guests laughing with you. 

“You’re a Ricciardo now too, darlin’”

“You can kiss the bride now”

This was not the end. She still hates Daniel, everything about him, but especially, how much he was easy to love. He promised they were a team and he will always deliver on that, the love of this life of his and all the others too.

@laura-naruto-fan1998 enjoy <3

my taglist!!

[fizzigigsimmer]

Back At One Part 2

Pairing: Caligator, Billy Hargrove x Gator Tillman

Fandom Fusion: Stranger Things & Fargo S5

Dom/Sub au

*Title taken from this truly sappy love song by Brian McKnight that these boys would NEVER admit was kinda okay lol.

<<<<PART I

“When is that fella of yours gonna make an honest man out of you?" Dot asks, just as Gator reaches for the pans stacked on top of the fridge, and he jerks, pulling too quickly, sending a cookie sheet clattering toward the kitchen floor - he just manages to save it. Scotty raises the cover of her book to hide her face, but his ears work just fine and he hears her snicker.

"What do you mean?" he gripes as he fumbles with the cookware. This is what he gets for trying to do something nice for his boyfriend on his birthday. "Billy's already registered as my dominant."

Which means if Gator really does burn the house down trying to make this fucking cake, Billy can have the honor of identifying his barbecued remains and save Dot the trouble.

Dot’s giving him this look though. Like she can see right through his bullshit. Let's get real. She always could read him like a book and play him like a fiddle.

“Alright, lets bake this mother fu-uuning,cake” Gator self corrects, remembering Scotty at the last minute. Shit that was close. Dot only has a few rules for when they’re together: no talking about the past when Scotty’s in earshot and no potty mouth. She literally calls it that. It’s kind of annoying though, cause the kid is like twelve right? Gator could curse in three different languages by the time he was twelve. But apparently that’s not the thing to be proud of that he thought it was when he was twelve.

“Real nice save Hon.” Dot laughs at him.

“Yeah yeah. Let’s just do this.” Gator grumbles in reply, and they do. 

Dot ties an apron around Gator's waist and hands him a mixing bowl while Scotty eagerly climbs up on a stool to read out the recipe as they work. She’s only meant to be walking him through the basics of a simple white cake with Billy’s name spelled out on it, but somehow the kitchen quickly descends into chaos. 

"Okay, first we need to cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy," Scotty reads.

Gator dumps an entire stick of butter and a heaping cup of sugar into the bowl. He picks up the electric mixer and jams it in after, cause that much he can figure out for himself. Only it sends a plume of sugar into the air the minute he powers it on. 

“Holy shit!”

"No, silly!" Scotty giggles. "You have to soften the butter first or it won't mix right."

Grumbling, Gator fishes the hard butter out of the bowl and tosses it into the microwave. A few seconds later, there's a loud pop - because he’s a fucking idiot and apparently it doesn’t take more than a few seconds to warm butter. One glance inside confirms the worst: the stick is now a molten mess, and butter drips down the microwave door.

"Oh honey," Dot sighs, grabbing a towel to wipe up the mess. "Just grab another stick and leave it on the counter for a bit to soften."

“Jesus. Come on. Get your head in the game!” Gator admonishes himself, trying to shake off his embarrassment and the feeling of shame welling up inside of him from fucking up something so simple. “I have cooked before. I’m just -”

What? Nervous? Fucking stupid? What else is there to say when he can’t even melt butter.

Dot lays a hand on his back. She doesn’t need to say anything, and she doesn’t as she hands him a clean bowl and Scotty reads out from Dot’s phone that it’s time to sift the dry ingredients together. He upends the bag of flour over the sifter, and thinks it might be too much. It definitely is, because he doesn’t get more than a few taps in before flour has started to overflow everywhere, dusting his hands and the arms of his black t-shirt. But hey, some of it is getting into the bowl.

Somehow with Dot's patient guidance and Scotty's enthusiastic "assistance", they manage to get the cake batter mixed and poured into pans. Gator slides them into the oven, sets the timer, and leans back against the counter with a sigh, his shirt and jeans thoroughly dusted with flour, bits of batter streaked in between.

Dot chuckles as she hands him a damp towel. "Well, that was an adventure. I think Billy will appreciate the effort you put in, even if it's not perfect."

Gator wipes his hands and grumbles. "It better turn out decent after all that. I still think I shoulda gotten him something else though. Something big, to really wow him, y'know?"

Dot studies him for a long moment, and then finally broaches the subject that has been festering like a smelly turd in the corner of the room.

"Want to talk about what happened at the store today?"

No. No he really fucking doesn’t. Gator turns to snap on the faucet, thinking that he’d like to stick his head under it and drown himself right about now. He focuses intently on scrubbing the batter caked on his nails instead.

"Nothin' happened. She was a stuck-up bitch is all. Lookin' down on me like I'm nothin' just 'cause I ain't some fancy dom in a suit."

He hears Dot murmur something quietly to Scotty about going to get her things together, and grunts in acknowledgment when the twerp says a shy goodbye before slipping from the room. He immediately feels like shit, because Dot can’t really punish him anymore - it’s not her place, and she’s got too much respect for Billy to overstep - but she can take away the one thing she knows he really wants. He wasn’t ready for them to leave, but he can’t blame Dot for not wanting her kid around him when he’s like this.

Her family is not something that Dot plays around with, and Gator might be someone she cares about, but there’s a stark line between whatever the hell they are to each other and the beautiful thing Nadine - fuck - Dot, built for herself with her own grit and guts in the aftermath of the Tillmans.

He understands. He gets it. He does. And yet he still flinches when she speaks again, body somehow unprepared for her to still be there even though he would have heard her leave if she wasn’t.

"She shouldn't have treated you that way," Dot says softly. "But Gator, how you reacted wasn’t like you. I haven’t seen you do something that rash in a long time. What’s this really about?”

Gator's jaw clenches and his hands still, suds dripping from his fingers into the sink. The air grows heavy with all the things unsaid between them.

"It’s nothin'. Alright?" he mutters unconvincingly. "I lost my cool is all. Won't happen again."

Dot sighs and leans her hip against the counter next to him, arms crossed. Her eyes are filled with gentle understanding and he hates it. Hates how much it reminds him of his mom, and all the times after, when she was gone and it was Dot standing in her place, filling the void as best she could. Hates most of all that he’s never been strong enough to resist the comfort Dot offers and the temptation to fall apart in her arms. She was his safety, even when safety was a lie and she was just a kid who couldn’t do shit to keep herself safe, let alone him.

But no matter how hard Gator had tried, he’d never stopped needing someone to lean on and take him apart and clean out his rust and dust, to put back together again good as new. That’s his curse, the sub in him, which is hard to swallow most days but Billy makes it better. No one does any of that for him like Billy Hargrove does. Even when Gator makes it hard on him, Billy always knows just which way he’s bent and how to fix it. Yeah it bugs the shit out of him, but he wouldn’t know what the hell to do with himself now without it. If Billy left he’d -

Stop that shit! He flinches away from the thoughts, and reminds himself for the umpteenth time that Billy isn’t going to leave him over some dumb shit like a lame birthday gift. He needs to just quit already. Why can’t he make the thoughts stop?

"You've been doing so well lately, Gator. Really making progress in therapy, communicating better when you’re dropping... What happened today?" Dot presses again.

Gator's throat works as he swallows hard. His hands clench the edge of the sink, knuckles going white. He doesn’t want to talk about this but maybe it will help. God he hopes it helps.

"I just... I wanted to get him somethin' special, y'know? Somethin' to show him how much he means to me." His voice cracks slightly on the last word and Dot's face softens. She reaches for him, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

"Oh honey... Billy knows how much you love him. You don't need fancy gifts to prove that."

"Don't I though?" Gator argues, a bitter edge creeping into his tone. "He does so much for me, Dot. Takes such good care of me, even when I'm a pain in the ass. And, like when am I not a pain in the ass, huh? You were gonna kick his ass and like send him to the Gulag. How am I worth that?”

Dot laughs, giving Gator's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Listen to me. You are a pain in the ass, but only when you’re trying so hard not to be the sweet, kind, and wonderful man I know you are. You're a good boy, Gator. You always have been. And yes, at first I was worried when I found out your Saftey-Dom had a thing for you. Who wouldn’t be?”

Gator shrugs away her very good point - doms who are employed to counsel and provide subs with therapeutic care are bound by a strict code of ethics. Billy could have been in deep shit if anyone other than Dot had found out about their relationship before Billy stopped being his therapy dom.

“I kissed him Dot, and he never let it happen again while I was still just a case.” Gator laments. “That’s what I’m talking about though, all I could do was think with my dick - meanwhile I could have seriously fucked up his life. And he still took care of me!”

“He did. Which is what convinced me he’s the best thing for you.” Dot says. “It’s because he loves you for who you are, flaws and all."

Gator shakes his head, jaw tight. "You don't get it, Dot. I'm not...I'm not good like you keep saying. The shit that goes through my head sometimes…”

He trails off, shame burning hot in his gut. He can't even bring himself to say it out loud. But with Dot he doesn’t need to. 

She was there through the worst of it. She’s seen the worst of him. Shit Billy knows about, but hasn’t seen. Hasn’t really lived it, the way Dot had to live it, and maybe that’s why Gator’s been fucking everything up. 

Maybe he’s trying to see once and for all whether or not someone who isn’t trauma bonded to him will stay once they see him for what he really is.

"I know I'm fucked up, alright? I know I got a long way to go before I'm anything close to the kinda sub Billy deserves.” He tries to shrug off the admission like the words aren’t sending pain twisting inside him like a knife.

But Dot, perceptive as always, cups Gator's face, turning him back to meet her gentle gaze. "Oh honey... Is that what this is about? You want Billy to collar you?"

Gator's breath hitches. Hearing it stated so plainly sends a jolt through him, equal parts longing and terror. He jerks away from Dot's touch, arms wrapping defensively around himself.

"No! I mean... Fuck, I don't know," he stammers, the words tangling on his tongue.

Dot is quiet for a long moment, letting his confession settle heavily between them. When she speaks again, her tone is thoughtful.

"Have you talked to Billy about this? About wanting his collar?"

Gator barks out a harsh laugh. "No. No fuckin' way. He'd probably laugh in my face if I did.”

Dot's brow furrows, her eyes shadowed with concern as she clicks her tongue in admonishment. "I don’t believe you really think that for a second. That Billy would laugh at you for expressing your needs."

Gator's shoulders hunch, defensive. He keeps his gaze fixed resolutely on the mixing bowl in the sink, watching the dregs of batter slowly dissolve under the running tap. The sweet scent of vanilla and butter hangs heavy in the air, incongruously cheerful.

"I didn't say I needed it," he mutters. "I'm just sayin'... a guy like me askin' for a collar. It's funny right? Like, I’m not some needy bitch who needs a collar to keep from dropping, and I don’t need Billy thinking he gets to boss me around more than he already does. Guy’s an absolute control freak."

"Uh-huh and you love it. I've seen the two of you together. The way Billy is with you... It's special. He'd move heaven and earth to make you happy. To give you what you need." Dot says. Her voice is soft but sure.

Gator swallows thickly, his eyes stinging. He blinks rapidly, determined not to let the tears building behind his lids fall. "Sure. Why hasn’t he done it then? I’d put that shit down in two seconds, but he hasn’t even tried. Y’know?"

And the reason why is obvious. Yeah, there’s the fact that Gator doesn’t need a collar, but even if he wanted one he’s too much work, too damaged.

Dot sighs heavily, like he said the last part out loud.

"Honestly Honey, I think you should think about it from his perspective. With the way you talk about it... He may not realize how much this would mean to you. Billy does a good job, making sense of what’s going on in that squirrel head of yours but he’s not superman. Talk to him.”

Gator grunts noncommittally. Because hell no. He will not be begging his dom to collar him any time soon thanks, but he doesn’t want her to worry either. 

Dot says she has to get Scotty home in time to start dinner and he follows her out to the front door where Scotty is waiting with Dot's purse and her school bag. He sees them off with a wave and a promise to attend some talent show at Scotty’s school next week. Dot gives him a kiss on the cheek, urges him to talk to Billy one more time and reminds him that her mother-in-law knows the president, and really can get Billy thrown in the gulag if he really does laugh in Gator’s face.

And then he’s alone. Alone with his thoughts. Which is frankly the best way to be. Gator can think much more clearly about this now that Dot’s not here, reminding him of the past and making him feel weaker than he actually is. He can totally still salvage this situation. He’ll just make the cake really impressive. Like those 3D ones that look like real shit? Billy loves to chill with him on the weekend and watch that show where people try and guess which random item is cake or not. Gator’s usually tied up, plugged or gagged when that happens so his memories are a little hazy - but it doesn’t look that hard. It’s just cake right?

When the timer goes off Gator brings the cake out of the oven.

He whips out his phone and starts scrolling through cake decorating videos on YouTube, determined to find something suitably impressive. His eyes light up when he spots a tutorial for a realistic 3D surfboard cake, uploaded by some fruit calling himself Barry Bakes. He doesn’t really want to take advice from some dude with pink hair, a full face of makeup, wearing a sparkly crop top with the word TWINK encrusted on the front, but the cake is undeniably badass.

"Alright, let's do this," Gator mutters, cracking his knuckles. He fast forwards through the beginning of the video, impatient to get to the good stuff.

First step - carving the cakes into a surfboard shape. Easy enough. Gator grabs a serrated knife and starts hacking away at the layers, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in concentration. Crumbs fly everywhere as he saws off uneven chunks. When he's done, he steps back to survey his work. It...sort of looks like a surfboard. If you squint. And tilt your head to the side.

Next up - the "ocean" frosting. Gator mixes a batch of blue buttercream, dumping in what is probably way too much food coloring, but whatever at least he softened the butter without blowing up the microwave this time.

Gator continues to follow along with Barry Bakes' tutorial, growing increasingly frustrated as each step seems to go awry. The blue buttercream frosting he mixed up is a garish turquoise color from the excessive food dye. It's also too thin and runny, dripping off the cake in gloopy rivulets.

He blames Barry, that fucking fruit, because if he weren’t so hell bent on turning everything into some kinda innuendo maybe Gator could actually concentrate on what he is doing!

"Shit shit shit," Gator grumbles under his breath, frantically trying to smooth the messy frosting over the lopsided surfboard shape he carved. It's a losing battle. The cake looks like a melted smurf.

Next, Barry cheerfully pipes delicate white frosting swirls and curls to create realistic seafoam on his perfectly smooth blue surfboard. Reminding the audience that big tips are better for piping, and everybody loves a good pipe.

Gator glares at the screen. His own piping bag is loaded with frosting that's somehow both too stiff and too drippy at the same time. When he tries to pipe, it comes out in sad, deflated spurts. He can only imagine what Barry would have to say about that.

"Motherf-!" Gator bites off the curse, chucking the piping bag down on the counter. This was a stupid idea. He's no baker, who was he kidding? He should've just bought Billy a damn gift card like a normal person.

Dejected, Gator slumps against the counter, hanging his head. Failure churns in his gut, sharp and nauseating. He can't give this monstrosity to Billy. He just can’t. Can’t bear to watch him try to hide his disappointment.

Frustrated and embarrassed, Gator gives up on trying to salvage the cake. In a fit of pique, he grabs a spatula and starts roughly shaping the blue frosted mess, not even bothering to smooth it out anymore. He carves angry slashes and gouges into the cake's surface with the edge of the spatula.

Before he even fully realizes what he's doing, the cake has taken on a new, crude shape under his hands - a lumpy, misshapen hand with the middle finger extended in an unmistakable gesture of "fuck you".

Gator steps back, breathing hard, and stares at his handiwork. The hand is far from anatomically correct, with uneven sausage-like fingers and a palm that curves at an odd angle. Globs of sticky frosting cling to the digits in gloopy turquoise clumps. The raised middle finger lists slightly to the side, like it's too heavy to hold itself up properly.

It's possibly the ugliest cake Gator has ever seen. So ugly it crosses the line twice and becomes perversely impressive in its sheer awfulness. A surprised, slightly unhinged laugh bubbles up from his chest as he takes it in.

This is what he has to show for his efforts. This fuck-ugly, lewd gesture of a cake, cobbled together from the dregs of his failure. It suits him.

“Yeah don’t know what the fuck else I expected.” Gator grumbles, despondent. He goes to the fridge to fetch a beer and tabs it open roughly, determined to drink thoughts of the stupid cake away. 

He’s not crying over cake like some lame ass. It’s whatever. It’ll probably still taste good, and if Billy doesn’t like it he can throw it in the trash. They’ll order a pizza or something and Gator will ride him till his dick goes numb and call it a night. Happy birthday.

Gator stomps to the bedroom he and Billy share and pulls out the trunk where he keeps his hunting gear from under the bed, because it’s been awhile since he polished his knives and that always helps lift his mood. He takes the trunk out to the living room and gets to work. Ques up his workout playlist on his phone and connects it to the TV so he can put it on blast.

It helps a little. Allows him time not to think. But the time gets away from him, because he doesn’t even hear the sound of the front door opening and closing. 

Billy's entrance is marked by the faint scrape of his boots against the hardwood floor as he turns the corner into the living room. He pauses briefly, taking in the scene before him—Gator, surrounded by an array of gleaming knives, his trunk spilling open on the coffee table, and the ear splitting rifts of heavy metal blaring from the television speakers.

A faint smile tugs at Billy's lips as the dom sets down his bag and sheds his leather jacket, revealing the broad contours of his chest hugged by a tight white T-shirt. The room is thick with the scent of metal and leather, a comforting familiarity that wraps around Billy like a second skin. He approaches Gator slowly, noiselessly, his gaze fixed not on the array of blades but on the man holding them as gently as baby chicks.

Billy casts a long shadow across the coach and Gator finally notices him. He jumps up, fumbling the knife in his hands which clatters to the floor. The music crescendos, a dramatic backdrop to the moment. Gator lowers the volume, and whips around to glare at Billy who laughs at the fright he gave him.

“Hey, Baby Gay.”

“Don’t call me that!” Gator snaps. “And don’t sneak up on me. I was like, this close to killing you!”

“Oh?” Billy arches a mocking brow. “Probably shouldn’t have dropped the knife then.”

“Haha. Very funny asshole. You’re lucky I did,” Gator grumbles in reply, bending down to pick up the fallen knife. “You know how sharp one of these babies are? With one o’ these I can cut through the shell on a coconut just like that.”

He flicks his wrist to demonstrate the ease with which he could peel Billy’s flesh off, and Billy gives him this look - like Gator is just fucking adorable - and it’s god damn condescending, is what it is. But it also makes the back of Gator’s neck tingle with awareness, and his dick try to get hard. So yeah.

It’s probably a good thing that Billy’s so distracted anyway. Because swearing at his dom is firmly against their rules on account of the fact that Gator uses it as some kinda defense mechanism to keep Billy at arms length.

Or that’s what Billy said anyway when he made the stupid rule. Gator doesn’t make the rules here, he just follows them.

“I’ll count myself lucky then. I think I’ll get a beer. You want one killer?” Billy asks, already on his way to the kitchen. 

FUCK! The Kitchen. Gator remembers too late that he forgot to clean up and do something with that awful cake and scampers after him.

Billy strides into the kitchen before Gator can stop him.

His stomach knots as Billy pauses, his gaze landing on the misshapen dessert surrounded by strewn icing bags, crumbs and powdered sugar. Slowly a grin spreads across Billy's face, and blue eyes sparkle as he turns to look at Gator, where he lingers hesitantly in the kitchen doorway.

"Is this cake trying to tell me something?" he teases, amusement rich in his voice. He leans forward slightly to inspect the cake more closely. "Is this your way of telling me you don’t want to sixty-nine later, or is it a failed science experiment? Hard to tell."

Gator feels heat rush to his face, embarrassment mixed with irritation bubbling in his chest. He knows Billy is just poking fun, yet it stings, tapping into that deep-seated insecurity instilled by years under his father's critical eye.

"Scotty was here with Dot and it gave us something to do. That’s all," Gator mumbles defensively, his words sharper than intended. Then, unable to stop the words from tumbling out recklessly, he adds, "Just thought it would be nice to share, but you don’t have to have any if you’re just going to be an asshole."

As soon as the words are out, Gator regrets them. Swearing at Billy is one thing, but lying to him breaks one of their most cardinal rules. It’s not just about respect; it’s about trust.

Billy’s expression shifts subtly; the playful light in his eyes dims as he adopts a more serious demeanor. He closes the distance between them with measured steps. "Gator," he says softly yet firmly, "That’s the second time you’ve pulled that tonight. Watch it.”

Gator snaps his mouth shut and fumes silently, hanging his head. God, Billy sounds so disappointed in him and it’s worse than he even imagined.He wants to puke.

“Did Scotty really make this?” Billy asks, and Gator can tell just from his tone that Billy already knows the answer, but he’s waiting for Gator to fess up to it. Gator shakes his head, hot tears stinging at his eyes that he blinks away as rapidly as he can.

“It’s for you.” He confesses, feeling a weight lift off his chest despite his overall misery. “I made it for your birthday, and you made fun of it.”

“I did.” Billy acknowledges too easily for Gators liking, but before he can say anything Billy goes on. “I could have handled that better. You’re right. But before we get to that, don’t you have anything to say to me?”

“No. Can’t think of anything.” Gator immediately denies, because how is it fair that he has to apologize for a little white lie when he only did it in the first place because he knew Billy was going to laugh. He knew it.

“Oh?” Billy’s face is impassive but he’s unhappy with Gators answer. It crackles in the air between them. “Do you need a reminder of the rules?"

Gator swallows hard, defiance battling with remorse inside him. He shrugs stiffly, avoiding Billy’s gaze. “Let's just forget it. I don’t need a lecture right now.”

“I’ll decide whether you do or not.” Billy’s tone is calm but carries an undeniable edge of authority—one that sends shivers down Gator’s spine and fear bolting through him all at once. “You know, I was looking forward to a nice night with my boy. Didn’t know I was coming home to a brat.”

Gator ignores the voice inside that screams for him to stop stop stop, barreling ahead in desperate angry defiance.

“Fuck you and what you want! Maybe I want a boyfriend who knows how to lighten up huh?  Sorry I’m not your perfect little bitch. Go cry about it to someone else!” 

His insides shake from the fear and lingering tension. Gator has just royally pissed off his dom. It’s in Billy’s eyes and the slow exhale of breath he takes. Punishment is inevitable. Gator longs to take it back but he can’t - can never take it back - and nothing will fix it. Or fix him. He’s all wrong inside and nothing works no matter how hard he tries.

But the thing is, Billy is safe.

Billy is angry and Gator is terrified and trembling but It’s nothing like it was before, in his father’s house. When the fear of a hand went bone deep and lived in his nightmares.

Gator loves Billy’s hands. They way they touch him. The way they hold him fast and glue him back together. They’ve never let him down those hands, which is why Gator is shaking like a leaf right now, terrified that they won’t reach for him.

He didn’t yell those things at Billy because he wants more space. It’s stupid, he knows, but he yelled them because he needs Billy to take over. He can’t stop himself running full speed ahead toward a punishment. Billy will straighten him out. He can trust Billy to know what to do even when he’s lost sense of which way he’s turned.

Gator’s dom considers him for a long moment, the silence stretching taut between them.

“Go in our room and get me a paddle.” Billy finally orders. Then, deliberately turning away, he starts rummaging through the kitchen cupboards - no doubt in his mind apparently that Gator will obey him.

Of course he does. Knees shaking, Gator stumbles out of the kitchen because now that he’s driven them to this point his skin is crawling with the need to make it right. He’s aching with the need to be good so bad his knees feel like jelly and it’s everything he can do just to follow the order. He wants to hit the floor - go to his belly and plead for his dom’s forgiveness but that’s not what Billy asked for.

He will be good. He’ll make Billy forget that mouthy idiot who talked back and clearly had shit for brains. He can be such a good boy. The best boy! Just give him a chance and he’ll come wagging his fucking tail.

It’s pathetic.

But it’s also a relief, when he returns to the kitchen a few minutes later with a paddle from their toy chest and sets it on the table and Billy acknowledges it with an approving nod.

“Good boy.” he says, and Gator’s knees buckle. He catches himself on the table, holds himself up with palms pressed firmly to the wood because Billy hasn’t told him to kneel yet. He forces himself to focus on Billy as the dom takes an empty glass vase inexplicably sitting next to a bag of rice on the table, and places it on the floor between their feet.

Gator watches warily as next, Billy grabs the open bag of rice and tilts it sending a stream of white grains cascading down onto the tile. He stops when the bag is empty and kneels briefly to stir through them gently with his fingers before straightening and meeting Gator’s eyes again.

“Pants off.” he orders, and Gator sucks in a breath. He doesn’t have to ask why, and doesn’t bother, cheeks hot with shame as he reaches for his belt and gets to work.

"On the floor," BIlly commands softly, when Gator is down to his underwear. The dom points to the pile of rice on the floor.

"Kneel."

And Gator folds like fucking cake batter, sweet sweet relief coursing through his veins. He puts himself at Billy’s feet where he belongs, where he wants to be and shudders, biting his lip to stop himself from begging for the dom’s touch. He hasn’t earned that. Doesn’t make him want it less, but he can be good for Billy and prove when he remembers how.

Billy picks up the paddle that Gator chose – sleek and dark, crafted from polished walnut. As Gator settles on his haunches, head lowered in submission.

“You picked the heavy one. My favorite.” Billy remarks. “That why you picked it, or do you just really need to feel it tonight? You can answer.”

“Want to feel it.” Gator licks his lips. “Want you to be happy.”

“Good boy.” Billy says, leaving Gator to wonder which he is pleased with: that Gator wants his ass beat so raw he can’t sit or Gator wanting those things because they please his dom?

“Alright Baby, are you listening? I want you to pick those up and put them in the vase. Count each one,” Billy instructs, motioning toward the scatter of grains. His voice is firm. It brooks no argument.

Gator looks down at the nearly indistinguishable mass of tiny grains and feels a rush of frustration. "All of them?" His voice is a mix of incredulity and unease. What if he can’t do it? What if he can’t be good and Billy is disappointed in him again?

“Every last one Baby boy," Billy confirms with an implacable nod. “Don’t think about it. It’s not your job right now to think. Just do what I ask you to do. Can you do that?”

Gator takes a deep breath, steadies himself on the sound of Billy’s voice and nods. He can do that. He can follow Billy’s instructions. He doesn’t have to worry about ho much rice there is or whether he can even find it all. That’s not his to worry about. Not his place. He just has to listen. 

He reaches out shakily to touch the closest grain, his voice barely audible as he starts, “One… two… three…” His fingers tremble slightly; counting each grain feels like an impossible task. But Billy never sets him up for failure - not the way his dad used to. Billy doesn’t ask him to do things he’s not capable of just to fail. He asks Gator for things he knows he can do, and if he fails anyway it’s because Billy wants to be there when he breaks. He won’t leave Gator laden with shame and misery that will eat away at his insides.

As Gator focuses on the rice, Billy steps behind him. Without warning, he brings the paddle down gently but firmly across Gator's backside. The sound cracks sharply in the air, followed by another count from Gator's lips that judders from the impact.

“Four… five…”

Billy administers each swat in time with Gator’s counting—methodical and paced.

The pain is not harsh but it accumulates with each slap—the stinging warmth spreading across Gator’s skin contrasting starkly with the coolness of the floor beneath his knees and hands. Tears prickle at Gator’s eyes as he continues—his voice breaks around “twenty-nine… thirty…” 

It’s more than just physical pain; it's a release valve for all he’s been holding inside. Every impact sends ripples through him, but it’s not just his body. It does something to his soul too that he can’t explain. Something he no longer wants to deny.

“Let it out,” Billy murmurs close to his ear between paddles—a soothing contrast to the sharp swats.

“Thirty-one… thirty-two…” The numbers start blurring together as sobs hitch in his throat. The task which seemed merely frustrating at first now feels poignant— slowly, bit by bit, Gator cleans up the mess on the floor, and swat by swat Billy cleans up the mess inside. He doesn’t hit Gator after every grain, that would be excessive. He takes breaks at interment periods, spacing them out so that it’s impossible for Gator to try and guess when he might start up again. The fresh sting whenever he does is brutal, worse in some ways than if he had just continued until Gator’s cheeks were numb.

“Two-hundred and ten…” 

Billy pauses, placing his hand gently on Gator's shoulder as he surveys his progress.

"You’re doing well," he encourages softly, and that little praise, that nothing bit of touch, is enough to break him. Gator chokes on a sob, hot tears spilling down his cheeks despite his best efforts to hold them in.

“Keep going.” Billy reminds him and Gator nods emphatically, tears dripping off his chin, because he hadn’t meant to stop. He was doing so well. Billy said so. He’ll never stop. Not until Billy tells him too.

With shaking hands Gator pinches grains of rice between his fingers and continues to count aloud between sobs and hits from the paddle—each number spoken is more than just an acknowledgement of rice grains; but of his submission to Billy. 

Billy’s little murmurs of praise and sounds of pleasure make him feel high. Like his head is floating in the clouds.

He loves subspace. Wishes it were easier for him to reach and he didn’t have to be taken down so hard. But finally he feels the familiar edges of it and the tears fall faster as he lets himself go.

Gator sinks into the feeling of weightlessness as it rises up to take him. Billy maintains a rhythm that is both firm and considerate, attuned to Gator's responses—his body language, his breathing, his blown out pupils and slurred speech. 

This is no longer about punishment. It’s a guided breakdown.

As Gator’s cries begin to subside into quiet murmurs and his ability to speak leaves him, Billy lessens the intensity of his strikes until he stops altogether. 

“That’s enough. You were beautiful Baby.” Billy halts Gator’s hands woozly still trying to lift rice and the sub sags against him. “You’re always so good for me baby boy.”

He brushes his fingertips along Gator's heated skin, tracing the raised welts along his buttocks and thighs softly, and making him shiver. Gator’s mouth stretches in a dopey lopsided smile, beaming from inside and out. He soars. Works his mouth to ask Billy to do it again - he can take more - but can’t get past the mushmouth.

The room is heavy with the scent of sweat and leather, the only sound now the quiet thud of Billy’s heart and Gator’s shaky breaths.

Hands roam over Gator’s back and legs, soft, soothing caresses that glide over his flushed skin. Billy leans close, his breath warm against the nape of Gator’s neck, whispering reassurances that float through his head like feathers.

The shift is gentle, a tender transition as Gator's breathing evens out and his trembling subsides. Billy’s hands are confident, knowing exactly where to touch to bring Gator back from the intense high of subspace. With each calculated stroke on his back and whisper against his ear, Gator feels the ground slowly come back under him, the weightlessness dissipating as reality takes hold once more.

Billy finally eases back, giving space for Gator to gather himself in the afterglow of their session. He cups Gator’s face tenderly, wiping away the trails left by tears with his thumbs. 

“Talk to me, Gator. What’s been eating at you?”

The use of his real name pulls Gator further out of his dazed state. He blinks slowly, focusing on Billy’s concerned face, grounding himself. “I... I’m scared,” he admits, voice still hoarse.

“Scared of what?” Billy probes gently, petting the long side of Gator’s hair now.

“I’m scared I’m not enough for you,” he confesses, dropping his gaze to where their fingers are entwined. He knows the words will hurt Billy. Make his dominant frown in the middle of his brow and start thinking of all the ways Neil Hargrove used to tell him he was a waste of space - too broken and wrong to ever take proper care of a sub. Nothing could be further from the truth. But if there’s one thing Gator knows it’s daddy issues and how they can haunt you.

But to his surprise Billy’s expression doesn’t change. He just nods quietly, still petting Gator’s hair. “Why would you think that?”

Gator hesitates, lips parting but no sound coming out. He swallows hard and shrugs.

“Listen to me Baby.” Billy says after a moment, fisting Gator’s hair between his fingers and tugging until he brings his eyes up. “You’re what I want. You. Even when you’re being a greasy dirtbag leaving your shit everywhere and blaring your candyass music.”

“Hey, lay off my Skyfire man.” Gator can’t help but smile, because Billy’s lips have curved up in amusement and they’ve had this argument a dozen times or more and it just makes him feel so good, that Billy pays attention to which albums he gravitates to depending on his moods. “They aren’t candy. Fractal is the best album produced since Reign In Blood.”

“Why are we talking about fucking Slayer, or Skyfire, right now when Ride the Lightning exists?” Billy growls, tugging on Gator’s hair until his scalp stings just the sweetest bit. “I should beat your ass again just for that.“

“Yeah. If you wanna.” he pants, eager, and Billy’s smiling mouth kisses him, hot and hungry. Billy licks into Gator’s mouth, possessive and sweeping, until he whimpers. The dom nips at his plump lower lip with a grin before pulling back.

“Don’t think you realize how sore you’re gonna be when you come down off this high babe.” He says. “But you heard me right? When I said I loved you? Cause I do. I wasn’t about to lose you before over shitty timing, and I’d never let anything take you from me now. Not Dot. Not him. Not anyone or anything. Okay?”

Gator shivers, but even the mention of his father can’t intrude on the blanket of safety Billy has woven around him, the sure way his gaze holds Gator and rings with truth.

“Yeah.” he sighs, breathless.

“Yeah?”

But it’s not good enough, according to Billy’s tightening grip. And fuck that feels good. Gator is suddenly aware of how hard he is in his briefs, but it’s strangely distant. Like he’d be happy to just sit here hard for another hour or more, letting Billy play with him.

“Yes Billy.”

“Good boy.” Billy's voice is soft, infused with a warmth that seeps into Gator's bones, coaxing his tight muscles to loosen.The room around them—their living room with its deep blue walls and plush gray couches— disappears momentarily, focusing all existence on their intimate bubble.

Billy lifts Gator’s chin so their eyes meet. "Nah nah, stay up for me Baby boy. I need you present." His thumbs brush under Gator’s eyes, rubbing warmth into his skin while he waits for Gator’s eyes to focus. "I think it’s time I show you something," Billy continues, when Gator’s gaze is clear once more.

"In the bedroom," Billy instructs softly, "In my sock drawer, there's a small white box. I want you to go and bring it to me."

Gator feels a jolt run through him. It shocks him rather unpleasantly back to reality, like he’s been dropped from a short height.

“Wait what?” he tries to ask, tries to think, because Billy can’t be hinting at what his muddled brain is trying to convince him he is. Can he?

“Shh. Don’t ask questions.” Billy warns. “And absolutely no peeking either. Just go get it.”

Gator’s movements are slow and automatic as he stands and makes his way down the hallway. This isn’t happening. Well obviously it is, he is on his way to their bedroom to open Billy’s drawer - which is strictly hands off unless he has permission - and get some mysterious box. But it’s probably like some new toy they can enjoy together. Maybe Billy went out and finally got those chains Gator found on that web store, the ones with the studs that dig into your wrists the more you struggle? He’s going to feel so owned wearing those. It’s gonna be great.

He’s convinced himself down off the ledge by the time he gets to the bedroom, but his heart hasn’t gotten the memo because it starts going double time in his chest as he reaches for Billy’s drawer. It slips open smoothly under his fingers which are trembling slightly. From fear or excitement, he isn't sure.

Inside lies a small white box, unassuming in its simplicity yet Gator just stands there and stares at it like it’s a bomb for a full minute before lifting it from its nest among Billy's socks. The weight of potential futures presses down upon him as he clutches the box in his hands.

He should be a good boy. He can just turn and go back into the living room and - Fuck it! Gator’s not kidding anyone. Least of all himself.

Before he knows it, Gator has torn off the ribbon and lifted the lid on the box to peek inside.

And there lies a beautiful black leather collar, its surface smooth and flawless except for the bold engraving of 'GATOR' studded across it in shining silver letters.

Gator stares at it in disbelief, eyes flooding with fresh tears. His heart trips over itself in his chest, thrumming against his ribcage like a caged bird desperate for flight.

The room is silent except for the sound of Gator's shallow, ragged breathing. Gator runs his fingers over the cool, shining letters that form his name, the studs scraping against the pads of his fingers sending tingles through him.

He lifts the collar, feeling its weight in his hands. It's heavier than it looks. He brings it closer, inhaling deeply—the leather smells rich and earthy. It’s the good shit. Supple and strong enough to take some serious pull, and yet the inside of the collar is lined with soft velvet, ensuring his comfort.

Something white resting on the blue lining of the box catches Gator’s eye. It’s a folded card, its crisp edge nearly taller than the sides of the box. Gently plucking it up, Gator flicks it open and scans, eyes widening at the one word message inside.

Peeker!

An unexpected burst of laughter escapes him as he wipes away tears. The simple word on the card speaks volumes, but so does Billy’s presence in their bedroom doorway where Gator finds him leaning when he looks up.

Billy is gazing at Gator with an intense mixture of emotions.

"Do you like it?" he asks, and there’s something like worry there. As if Gator might actually have shit for brains and do all that stupid stuff he’d told Dot he’d do back when he was scared shitless. All because he’d convinced himself that Billy wasn’t true - that he’d disappear like every other good thing has.

“Yeah.” Gator sniffs through his red nose, rubbing fiercely at his eyes. “Shit man. How long have you had this?”

“Since right after your birthday actually.” Billy confesses with an easy shrug. Like he isn’t just standing there admitting that he bought a collar for Gator and has been hanging onto it since September.

“Billy! It’s fucking March!”

“I know! I thought if I forbid you from going through my drawer eventually you would. I know what you’re like.” Billy said. Meaning of course he knows that no matter what, Gator eventually messes up.

But Billy says, “I guess I underestimated what a good boy I’ve got, huh?” with this soft look in his eye, like he’s looking at the best sight in the world and not his fuckup boyfriend standing in the middle of their bedroom in his tighty-whities.

Gator might be melting a little, which is why he has to sit down heavily on the bed before he crumples.

“Hey Billy?”

“Yeah, Babe?”

“I’m your sub…” Gator begins and Billy laughs, the sound loud and full of joy instead of mockery.

“No shit?”

“Come on, Billy please. Don’t be mean.” Gator whines, lifting the hand still holding the collar wordlessly and Billy finally takes pity on him and crosses the room to take it from him. Gator trembles, straightening up and bending his neck a little to give Billy room as he claps it on. He gasps a little, shuddering when Billy leans back and the heavy weight settles against his skin.

"You’re my sub," Billy repeats with finality."With or without this. But when you wear this, I want you to remember," he pauses for effect, letting his fingers softly caress down Gator’s neck and over the dark leather. "You’re my gift. The love you give me, makes me Gator, and I thank whatever lucky stars I’ve got that you came into my life when you did. Okay?"

A simple nod is all Gator manages in response; it’s all that’s needed. The smile that spreads across Billy's face is radiant—as if a piece has clicked into place within him too.

Carefully, lovingly, Billy cradles his chin and pulls him into a kiss.

It tastes sweet… like buttercream icing.

[monzamash]

❝ what am i to you truly ? a puppet to be used to get what you want? ❞ + daniel 🥺😩

on our side daniel ricciardo x you | 1.1k — i combined this prompt and “did you just seriously insinuate i would do something like that to you?” because we love the drama, don't we folks? x

“You good?”

Daniel’s raspy voice stirred you awake, the exhaustion of too many night shifts strung together and the red wine he’d graciously provided for dinner had caused your weary eyes to close just for one peaceful, silent moment.

“Yeah, just needed a minute... it's so rowdy out there.”

The dip in the bed had your head tilting to the side, eying Daniel as he slumped down beside you, laying back on a bed that didn’t belong to either of you. In reality you didn’t know whose bed it was; maybe Scotty’s, maybe Sean’s – neither of you cared now that the dinner party had entered the wee hours of the morning.

“It’s been the longest day in history, I reckon. Trust those two to have the most extravagant wedding rehearsal dinner known to man…” Daniel sighed, hands linked behind his head; distressed curls falling every which way.

“Well, we are talking about a Stroll funded wedding event so not surprised that they’ve gone all out… Thought maybe there would be a flurry of doves as we walked in, it was that beautiful.”

Daniel chuckled at your joke and glanced your way, eternally in awe of how effortlessly funny you were. Quick witted and sharper than a tack like you’d always been; since the day he met you all those years ago.

“Should suggest that to Scotty for the big day – he’s all about the theatrics and hoopla… Christ, he might actually do it,” Daniel scoffed, making you chuckle and catch his eyes – gleaming and bloodshot from jet-lag.

There was a beat before his question; a question that you didn’t expect to get and certainly one you didn't want to receive.

“You ever think about getting married?”

The scoff that bubbled in your throat surfaced, eyes now widened at the man looking back at you with intrigue. Was he seriously asking you that? You? The girl who couldn't hold down a relationship because she's hung up on a man she can't have? Him.

“To who?” You asked, voice higher in pitch than you would’ve liked.

“I don’t exactly have a line of men queuing up around the corner…”

You cringed at the self-deprecation, wishing you’d gone with something less sad but the words spilled before you could catch them, painfully honest.

And Daniel’s quirked brow didn’t help you feel less desperate, “Oh, you know I’m camping out to be at the front of that queue.”

His tone was light-hearted but you knew that he wasn’t joking around. You’d found yourself here too many times, on too many late nights – fantasying about what could’ve been, maybe what should’ve been with the two of you. The almost’s, the close calls, the declarations of love when it wasn’t “the right time” and the apologies the next day when you wake up filled with regret, wanting nothing more than to pretend it didn’t happen because “your friendship means more to me than anything.”

It was cyclical.

“You promised we wouldn’t say things like that anymore, Dan.”

It was his chuckle that set you off, ringing in your ears like a taunt. It was as if the pain you felt every time he dangled himself in front of you, forbidden fruit, meant nothing to him. Like it didn’t rip his heart out of his chest, when it did. Having you as a friend killed him, every time he heard your voice on the phone, every time he made you laugh. Deflecting was his defence mechanism because admitting how he truly felt would hurt more than just you and him now. 

“I’m deadly serious…” You reiterated, staring into the windows of his soul, or so it felt for him as he watched your pupils widen.

“I know.”

And Daniel did know. He knew all too well the feeling of watching you happily in love – even if it was fleeting. But now it was his turn. The action of finding someone new was never intended to be vengeful or mean-spirited; it was just the way it was. Timing never on your side.

“But sometimes I think about getting married and when I do, I know you’re the only person on earth that understands how I feel… what that could look like and that might not be fair but it’s the truth.”

Daniel looked back up at the crown molding ceiling, hands clasped over his stomach, rising and falling with deep breaths. His heart was pounding, confessing his feelings was never easy when it came to you – and that was part of the reason you were laying side by side as friends, nothing more.

“You’re right, it’s not fair,” You stated, still staring at his sharpened jawline, tensing at your words, “I feel like… I feel like I’m just a puppet to you – a puppet to be used to get what you want whenever it doesn’t work out with your flavour of the month and… and…”

Daniel shot up, elbow buried into the mattress as he propped himself up beside you. As soon as you looked into those dark brown eyes, your heart shattered into a million pieces – the look of complete horror staring back at you as you stuttered through the sentence you wished you never even started. Regret getting the better of you.

“Did you just seriously insinuate i would treat you that way? After everything we’ve been through?” Daniel was stunned, gobsmacked by how differently you had perceived your relationship. Disposable.

He never wanted to make you feel that way, not ever.

“I fucking love you. I’m in love with you. And you know that. I know you do and I know you feel the same, which is why I sometimes keep my distance, especially when you’re with someone because I know what we have isn’t normal. I know it isn’t a normal friendship 'cause the reason all of my 'flavours of the month' leave is because of you.”

“Because they see the way I look at you and apparently it’s the same way you look at me so I dunno what to tell ya? You’re not a puppet and you never have been, it’s just… when we do get the chance to be together… in that way, I can’t say no to you… You’re you.”

Daniel reached down and softly brushed the pad of his thumb across your reddened cheek, a single tear rolling down the flushed skin as you let his words wash over you. He was right about all of it; he always was. He was the rational one, levelheaded and steadfast. But his words could only ease the pain so much.

The room was quiet, erratic breaths were the only sound being caught in the thickened air. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of your lungs, confessions somehow confusing the situation even more. Closure now being the only remedy for the heartache.

“If all that's true then, what do we do?”

Your voice was meek, barely a whisper as Daniel fell back onto the white linen duvet, hand searching for yours. You did what you always do and laced your fingers together; a comforting gesture to ease the sadness and gentle squeeze for good measure.

“I don’t know.”

Daniel genuinely didn’t know what to do and you could tell by the way his eyes darkened and the smile lines that were almost always visible were gone that he was as clueless as you. Stuck.

Because timing was never on your side.

a//n — don't know how many angsty drabbles i can write to be completely honest 'cause this hurt 😂 but hope you liked it x masterlist | askbox

[t0ast-ghost]

“Since the Cerritos is statistically the horniest and least romantically committed crew in Starfleet, we have no married officers aboard.”

- Lower Decks S4 EP6

First off if this is referring to just their current time period then yes I’d probably agree BUT since it’s a show and I think the creators were making a clever nod towards other shows I’d like to point out some things

This’ll get long. (Spoilers for TOS, TNG, DS9, & SNW)

TOS:

Both Spock and McCoy are divorced (McCoy twice over)

Whatever was going on between Spock and Chapel ???

Kirk is apparently too committed to the enterprise (yeah definitely the ship… nobod-nothing else) to commit to any of the women that he has definitely fucked

Kirk didn’t commit to Carol Marcus and she had his son

The Shore Leave episode

Theodore Sturgeon’s letter about the Shore Leave episode

Episodes with “Paradise” in their name

Must I bring up Amok Time?

Half the crew is just in love with the ship and all their relationships fail. The one time someone tries to get married their spouse dies

TNG:

Jean Luc is happy as is … Q however

Q is the horniest motherfucker for that frenchman and I’m counting him

Riker

Beverly with the ghost

Oh yeah Jean Luc literally kills two spouses (Crusher and Sisko) he’s actively uncommitting the romantics

The show’s SECOND EPISODE is where everyone gets super horny and fucks each other

Even the “emotionless” android gets some (I cannot blame Tasha one bit, Godspeed)

That’s all I remember from this show

DS9:

JADZIA DAX MY QUEEN

Julian Bashir’s original name was Dr. Amoros. He is doctor dick.

Lwuxana Troi wants Odo so bad but that goop ain’t committing

Whatever is going on between Odo and Quark

Need I mention Garak?

Mirror universe (Kira is about to kiss herself)

Almost every character is dating each other in this show and they made it canon for several but they all fall apart (Except Rom and Leela cause they’re perfect)

The O’Brien polycule… I drew it out but it got more complicated than the O’Briens (basically Julian is best friends with Miles who is married to Keiko. Keiko was on a shuttle while pregnant with Julian and Kira when there was a crash and Julian had to transfer the child from Keiko into either him or Kira, so Kira volunteered. She ends up living with the O’Brien’s while carrying the child and bonds with both of them (to the point both she and Miles think it’s weird). Kira eventually gets with Odo who is Quark’s nemesis and Quark is crushing on Jadzia who is exes with Julian who is (somewhat unknowingly) courting Garak. Jadzia Dax becomes married to Worf but I think her and Sisko have definitely fucked. Sisko is married to Kasidy and enemies with Gul Dukat who reciprocates that but is also fixated on Kira who hates him. Did I miss something?)

Now, I bet they did not count DS9 in their statistics because it’s a station not a ship but also because they’d always win this contest

SNW:

Spock and T’Pring

Spock and Chapel

Spock and Kirk

Other Kirk and La’an

Kirk and Carol ???

(All of them fail that’s why I bring it up)

Pelia has been married to another woman (not canon but it’s gotta have happened, right?)

Whatever was going on between Una and Neera in the court episode

There’s no way Uhura’s in a relationship (they might set her up with Scotty next season but I’d like to see her and Chapel)

The others do not seem romantically committed to other people

Pike’s weird dinner parties

To be honest Lower Decks is maybe the most outright vulgar in its language but most of the time it’s a feel good show about a bunch of best friends. Their captain is married, their CMO and head security officer are in a (happy?) relationship, and third thing here.

I haven’t seen any of Voyager or Enterprise and I don’t think Discovery is that horny/romantically uncommitted

[melodygatesauthor]

Feeling You Can't Fight - Chapter One

Moon Boys X m!Reader

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - Pride Event Fic 🏳️‍🌈

Written for the @flightlessangelwings pride event!

Summary

After replacing the loathsome former staff manager of the National Art Gallery in London, you find yourself all too interested in one of your employees in particular. Manager and employee relationships aren't allowed, and even if they were, you aren't sure if the nervous gift shoppist would be interested in you anyway. There's only one way to find out...

Reader Inclusivity

Reader is not race coded, is a cis man, taller than MK by a few inches, British, ex military, has a big peen

Tags/Warnings (for entire series)

NSFW, writer is NOT from the UK so please be gentle, I did my best with UK terms and such, smut, anal sex, oral sex, anal creampies, cum eating, cum swallowing, rough sex, Marc has DID, reader has mild PTSD, PTSD symptoms, trauma responses, semi-public sex, praise kink, fluff, comfort, angst, romance, love, forbidden relationship (boss and employee), minor physical violence.

Word Count: 2.5k

The front doors to the National Art Gallery in London stood before you, more menacing than you ever remembered them, even when you would go there as a child. It took a lot to shake you, you’d been to hell and back before, but starting a new job was nerve wracking for anyone. When you stepped into the lofty entryway, you were hit immediately by the smell of old books and cedarwood. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being in a museum, but it was a little different somehow when you were entering as a manager versus being a normal patron.

You remembered the phone call you got from an old friend during your time serving in the British Armed Forces. Apparently, the old staff manager of the museum was getting canned, and they needed a replacement quickly. He said that you had the qualifications they needed, and you thought it would be a good opportunity to start a new chapter in your life. You used to be so good at handling high pressure situations, but now you found yourself holding your travel mug like it was your lifeline as you walked further into the building.

You stepped up to the guest services area. There were a couple of receptionists that gave you a pleasant greeting, along with a man whose name tag read J.B. You waved, giving him a friendly smile. You weren’t usually an overly expressive kind of guy, but you didn’t want to make a bad first impression. From what you understood, your predecessor, Donna, wasn’t the nicest to the staff, so you wanted to try and separate yourself from her as much as you could.

“Mornin’,” You said, “J.B. is it?” You raised an eyebrow, pointing to his name tag.

“Yeah, are you the new boss?” He gave you a nervous smirk.

“I am. Have you got time to show me around a bit? Get me to my office and all that?” You grabbed the strap of your bookbag.

“Mornin’ J.B.!”

You turned and saw a disheveled and sleep deprived man shuffling toward you. He had a broad smile despite his exhausted appearance. You looked down at him from where you stood. The man was nearly half a foot shorter than you were. His face dropped a little when his eyes met yours, averting his gaze anxiously. You couldn’t help taking note of the way his clothes sat just a little too large on his body, and the way his curls, while unkempt, framed his face handsomely. 

“Scotty here could take you around. Considering he’s late.” J.B. scoffed, “always late, this one.”

The one called ‘Scotty’ gave J.B. a dirty look. “It’s actually Steven, Steven with a ‘V’, but no one can ever seem to remember that.” He looked at you again, expression still less than impressed until he spoke again. “Are you the–the new boss?” His brows were turned up and drawn together. If you were being honest he looked rather…cute.

“Sure am, cheers, Steven.” You reached out a hand.

Steven shook it and nodded, “cheers.”

He was a handsome guy, cheeks rosy from running into the building quickly after being late, five minutes to be exact. You mostly found yourself fixed on his eyes. They were beautiful, dark, and they seemed to glitter in the recessed museum lights. He gulped, and chuckled nervously, pulling his hand back and rubbing his neck.

“Right well, better get goin’ then,” you urged, gesturing for him to lead the way.

“Right,” Steven said in a breathy tone, prying his eyes away from yours.

You followed closely behind, and you were amazed at the man’s ability to find something to say about everything. Literally everything. While you passed the bathrooms on the way to the staff break room where the lockers were, he told you all about the time one of the tour guides got sick and spent nearly an entire day there. When you passed the meeting room he mentioned Donna, the previous staff manager, and her meetings that, in his words, felt like an excuse for her to berate the employees she didn’t like.

What really impressed you was his vast knowledge of history, particularly where ancient Egypt was concerned. There were a few times where you wondered if he was giving you a formal tour of the museum instead of a quick guide of your new workplace.

“I’m sure the patrons love you. Sounds like you really know your stuff!” You chuckled.

“Oh, well, I just work in the gift shop, m’not a tour guide. Donna crushed that dream any time I brought it up. She could be rather nasty at times…” His eyes grew wide, “sorry, shouldn’t’ve said that. S’wrong to say that about my old boss, I know it, she was just…”

He was looking at you with eyes that begged you to understand his feelings toward his former boss. You could tell he was kind at heart, not even wanting to talk negatively about someone who treated him and so many others unfairly. You put a hand on his shoulder, realizing now how much bigger you were than him. He stood at least six inches shorter than you, and you were a bit more broad shouldered.

“She was right cunt from what I heard. No need for pleasantries,” you said, hoping it would help him feel more comfortable.

He shrugged and smiled, “yeah, yeah you could definitely say that again.”

You were going to like Steven, you could already tell by the way he seemed to be a generally pleasant person to converse with. You’d almost made it to the staff room when a woman walked out. She was wearing a black dress and she smiled at Steven on her way by. You watched how Steven’s eyes changed from nervous to dopey with a slack jaw to match when she said hi to him. It was like you were watching a little boy in school nearly collapse over his crush.

“Who’s that?” You asked as she disappeared around the corner.

“Hm?” Steven turned back to you and his expression shifted back to normal, “oh her? That’s erm…her name is Dylan. She’s a tour guide. Lovely woman.”

You nodded, “well, I’ll have to introduce m’self later, she didn’t seem very interested in talking to me did she?” You chuckled.

“Oh, well I mean…yeah she’s usually really nice. I almost went on a date with her once, mucked that all up.” He looked sad when he said that. “Guess you could give it a go, she likes steak. I know that much.” He frowned at the thought. Clearly she was a sensitive topic for him.

You patted his back, “no worries with me mate, she’s not my type.”

“Yeah well, I don’t really even have a ‘type’ and I still can’t seem to get a girlfriend.”

There was an awkward silence while you stood in the hall in front of the staff lounge. Steven just nodded and sighed. You saw his eyes flick toward the mirror against the wall and then up at you. He gulped and his cheeks slowly started to turn crimson. You looked at him with a concerned expression.

“Everything alright Steven?” You furrowed your brow.

“Y-yeah, yep, yes, right let’s get goin’ then hm?” He opened the door and gestured for you to go inside.

You walked in and saw several lockers along the wall along with a handful of employees all scattered about, mostly on their phones. They all looked at you wide-eyed when you walked in the room. It was easy to forget that you were the one in charge. It wasn’t often people looked at you like that. You cleared your throat and raised up your hand in a greeting to all the staff.

“Hello, I’m…” you told them all your name. You swore you could hear crickets despite it being midday in the middle of a museum in London. “I’m the new staff manager. You can all breathe easy, I’m not here to terrorize you, just here to make sure everyone does their job.”

Your employees all hummed their greetings before returning to their own devices, both literally and figuratively.

You leaned over to Steven’s ear, “tough crowd.”

He jumped and gasped, as though he’d forgotten you were standing right there. He gave you a polite giggle before falling into his normal nervous flurry of words.

“Y-yeah, not the most friendly bunch. They’re also not used to…not Donna so…” He looked at you and nodded, “right, the lockers are right over here. Erm, I’ll just drop off my stuff real fast and then I’ll show you where Donna’s…well…” he chuckled, “your office is.”

Steven walked over to his locker and started putting away his things. You found it endearing, the way his pants were just a little too short, showing off his crisp white socks that disappeared into his loafers. He dropped something on the floor before muttering under his breath and picking it up. You sensed that this was the norm for him. He was a little clumsy, flustered, deceptively good looking, man.

That’s your employee, you reminded yourself, shaking the thoughts that threatened to course through your mind.

“Alright, let’s get on with it shall we?” He flashed a friendly smile before you nodded and let him lead the way.

Steven was a talker, that much was evident by the way he rambled on. By the time he got you to Donna’s old office, you knew everyone’s name who currently worked there, and who had ever worked there before; you’d been given another crash course in Egyptian mythology, and you’d learned that Steven was one of the most observant people you’d ever met. He seemed to know everything about…well…everything.

“I guess I should probably get to the gift shop. Those scarab jellies aren’t gonna sell themselves,” Steven rolled his eyes and chuckled on his way out the door.

Your office wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. You had a nice window looking out at the front entrance of the museum. The people of London were bustling around the street, going into various shops and driving their cars. You turned when your door opened, it was John, the museum director; your good friend.

“Hey!” He said, coming up and giving you a big hug with a firm pat on the back.

He was shorter than you too. You had a tendency to tower over most people you met. He spread his arms out and gestured around the office.

“Look at you! Mr. Big Wig! How do you like your office?” He leaned on the desk with one hand.

“I like it. It’s a bit dark in here, but I’ll get used to it.”

“Good, good, listen, I’ve got to get to a meeting, just wanted to stop in and make sure you found everything alright. I sent you a memo with your job description and the scheduling and all that so if you have any questions let me know yeah?” He patted your shoulder and took his leave.

You got yourself settled in before finally looking at your emails. Sure enough your schedule and details were right where he said they’d be. It was the simple nine to five, nothing special there, except it looked like Wednesdays you were meant to come in a little later, and leave later too.

“Hm, inventory,” you muttered to yourself.

It wasn’t your idea of a fun way to spend your Wednesday nights, stuck in the museum storage room counting hippo plushies, but when you learned you would be joined by Steven, it made it not feel so bad in the end. It didn’t feel like something the boss should have to do, it seemed like something the employees should have no issue handling themselves, but you weren’t going to question it so early into your new job.

Two nights later, on Wednesday, you found yourself in the stock room waiting for the anxious gift shop employee to meet you down there. No one had shown you how to do this yet, so you were relying on him to give you the rundown. When he finally made it, he was flustered, running in and apologizing on repeat until you yelled over him.

“Steven!” You shouted in a booming voice.

He looked at you with those big brown doe eyes, “y-yeah?”

“Stop apologizing,” you gave him a friendly smirk, “I’m not mad.”

“Oh, you’re not?” He seemed surprised before letting out a sigh of relief, “well, thank goodness, that’s a first.”

“She was that bad, huh?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You have no idea mate. Meanest lady I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowin’ in my entire life.”

You watched Steven’s eyes flick over to one of the glass picture frames on the floor that had posters for the upcoming museum event. He tilted his head as though he were listening to someone. You cleared your throat, to which he jumped and looked at you again, giving you a friendly smile and a nervous laugh.

“Sorry…though I had something’ in my teeth. Shall we then?”

Steven started showing you how to take inventory of all the items in storage, and while you paid as close attention as you could, you couldn’t help getting distracted just listening to him talk. He was animated, passionate, and had an opinion about every item he picked up. At one point he looked at you and sighed.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep ramblin’ on. Used to drive Donna mental just listenin’ to me. She used to say it was the worst part of workin’ inventory.” He clicked the scanning gun over another barcode.

“Steven if I hear you apologize one more time, I’ll have you cleaning the toilets instead of workin’ down here with me yeah?” You looked at him expectantly.

“Yeah, right, so–damn.” He chuckled, “s’harder than you think to avoid sayin’ it.”

You were focused on Steven again, and just how good looking he was. You had a clear attraction to him, despite his awkwardness and disheveled appearance. In fact, that was part of what captivated you about him. He was effortlessly handsome, and the nervousness could be quite endearing.

“What, do I have something on my face?” He asked, face turning red under your gaze.

You shook your head quickly, feeling embarrassment wash over you, “no, sorry I was just spacing out s’all.”

That was all it took for you to start the spiral that was falling in love with Steven Grant, the tardy, handsome, gift shoppist who worked under you.

Moon Knight Male Reader Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

[bucksdaffy]

can i ask about your thoughts about this vertigo-esque storyline with eddie and what do you think buck's role in this?

oh boy, this is a long one. i'm sorry in advance.

i'll be honest, i haven't watched that movie so i don't feel too confident speaking on this, but i'm not really worried.

from what i have gathered, it's a story about a retired detective, scottie, who is hired to follow the wife of his acquaintance, madeleine, and he becomes increasingly obsessed with her. he learns that she visits a grave of her grandmother, who committed s**c*de, and he is worried she is possessed by her ghost. he then rescues her when she attempts to jump from a bridge. they spend some time together, and then at some point she runs up the bell tower, and scottie can't follow her because he has a fear of heights, so he essentially watches her plunge to her death, and as a result, he spirals into depression.

so, up until this point, the only common theme between this story and eddie's is that the women they are in love with die, and both of them have a hard time dealing with it. i don't think there is anything else, but if someone who actually watched the movie wishes to correct me, please do.

later, scottie encounters a woman named judy who bears a striking resemblance to madeleine, and he becomes obsessed with transforming her into the image of his lost love because he is convinced that will allow him to overcome his grief.

so, this is basically what we see happening with eddie right now. he meets kim, and he is so struck by her resemblance to shannon he can't help himself but think he can rebuild with her what he had with shannon. so, he makes some questionable choices by telling her he's single, going on a date with her, and lying about it not only to marisol but also to buck and chris. we obviously haven't seen him trying to transform kim into shannon (i think at this moment he is only fascinated by her), but it is possible he is going to attempt to do so. maybe not in the same way scottie does, but perhaps in a more subtle way. he has looked for shannon in every relationship he has had so far. and now that he met her lookalike, he thinks that god gave him a second chance, and he doesn't want to waste it.

then, scottie learns that the acquaintance who originally hired him to follow madeleine actually orchestrated the whole thing. madeleine was never madeleine – she was judy. she was hired to impersonate his acquaintance's wife. they took advantage of scottie's fear of heights because they knew he wouldn't follow madeleine up the bell tower, and then the acquaintance killed his real wife (and she was the body that was thought to be madeleine/judy). madeleine/judy was never dead. scottie takes judy to the bell tower and confronts her about it. he overcomes his fear of heights so they are together on top now. at some point, a nun appears to investigate the noise and surprises judy, causing her to fall off the bell tower.

now we don't know yet what they are going to do with eddie and kim, but i don't think any of that is going to happen. we have to keep in mind those are two different stories. yes, they do share some common themes, but at their core, they are vastly different. i don't want to speculate about the outcome of it much because 911 always manages to surprise me, so i'll just leave it there.

but now on to the real question of this ask – what's buck's role in it? i suppose you have seen buddie shippers screaming from the rooftops that this is basically a confirmation that buddie will go canon because oliver/buck is mentioned on the poster as well (in a place where there originally is the name of the actress that plays midge, a character who is scottie's friend and who is in love with him). so, i guess everyone thinks there is going to be some kind of feelings realization (god do i hate this phrase) moment on buck's part and whatnot. SIGH.

well, first of all, i want to point out that midge's feelings are one-sided. and from what i've heard she does move on in the end. she and scottie do not end up together.

and second of all, i have said it already, but those are two completely different stories. the only common denominator is that in both cases, a male character becomes infatuated with a female character who eventually dies, and later on, they encounter their lookalike. for buck to be midge, there would have to be some already established romantic feelings for eddie on buck's part, and there simply aren't any. not in canon anyway. i don't think this is the time or place for "feelings realization".

i think buck is mentioned simply because he will be present in this arc, but certainly not in the way midge was. i think his role in it will be actually more important than that.

we know that he and kim do have a scene together. so i assume he's going to find out about eddie's shenanigans one way or another. i doubt eddie will tell him voluntarily, so i'm guessing he's going to run in on them somehow. and i don't think he's going to be happy. well, first of all, i think he's going to be confused. because what do you mean you're here with a woman who resembles your dead wife? but once he realizes what's going on, he's going to get a little angry. both for marisol, because this is NOT how you treat a woman you supposedly love (or any woman for that matter), and for himself, because eddie lied to him. and for chris, of course, don't get me started on that! one thing i'm pretty certain about is that he will be disappointed with him.

perhaps they'll also touch more on this honesty issue, actually. we all know buck is a pretty open and straightforward person, whereas eddie likes to keep things to himself unless he's directly asked about them. so, how this lie affects their friendship would definitely be very interesting to see.

either way, i think their bond will be a bit severed as a result of that. i don't think buck's going to support what eddie's doing and will call him out on it instead (will eddie fight back? that is quite possible, yes. and because of that they might take a longer time to patch things up). but they will make up eventually. if that's going to be this season or next, only time will tell. i also don't think buck will completely turn his back on eddie. he still has to work with him, and i think he's going to see him struggle, which will for sure hurt him inside. he might not support what he's doing, but he still cares about him after all. that's his best friend.

also, this is not really what i think will happen, but what i really hope to see – buck leaning on tommy throughout all of this, especially if it continues into the next episodes or even season 8. i think that would be a great way to kind of solidify their relationship. and if it continues into season 8 (which i doubt, but who knows?) i'd LOVE if tommy was encouraging buck to patch things up with eddie and perhaps encouraging eddie to patch things up with buck as well. i think that would introduce a great dynamic between all three of them.