#if i have thoughts then someone's gotta hear them

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates 10.2

the long awaited friendsgiving part 2! a month late but ya know... also the title is getting kind of hilarious

summary: friendsgiving pt.2

cw: uh... none that I can really think of? maybe a bit of flirting? if there is anything please do let me know!

word count: 2.1k

Friendsgiving was a hit. It was so incredibly fun getting to know everyone, eating delicious food (you were definitely going to ask Pandora for her pumpkin pasty recipe), and playing so many games. You played a couple rounds of spoons which ended in James and Marlene wrestling for the last spoon and, surprisingly, Marlene won. James claimed she was cheating saying “I had four sevens!” making everyone laugh.

“Gotta be quicker, Potter, I thought you were the ‘best chaser in a generation’” She mocked. You didn’t quite understand, but laughed along with the group, mostly at James’s pout.

As the night went on, you found yourself opening up to the others, becoming fast friends with both Pandora and Dorcas. At one point in the night, Sirius complained that they were stealing you from them. Dorcas just pulled you closer by your shoulders and stuck her tongue out at him. You laughed and let yourself be pulled into Pandora and Dorcas’s embrace. Sirius huffed and walked away.

“So, Y/N” Pandora continued your conversation, “Are you seeing anyone?”

Your eyes widened, surprised by her forwardness. “Oh uh… not exactly.” you chuckled. You looked down at your lap, trying to avoid the awkward feeling that was creeping up.

“Really?,” she asked “But, with looks like yours, I would have thought that you had the boys lining up around the block.” she said, cozying up to you in an attempt to get more out of you. You just shook your head, lowering your gaze and trying to fight back the reddening of your cheeks.

“Well do you at least have your eye on someone?” Pandora asked in her soft airy voice. She had a genuine look of interest in her eyes that combated the look of mischief in Dorcas’s.

You again shook your head, not sure how to answer her, or better, how to not answer her. You were definitely not about to let your heavily guarded crush, or maybe crushes, slip out. Who knows who could hear this conversation. You definitely saw these girls as your friends now, but there is no one close enough to you that you would openly tell who you were secretly crushing on.

Besides, if your little crush got out it could mean ruining your friendships and possibly your entire living situation. Yes, you had a crush on your roommates. Each of your roommates had different reasons that attracted you but, you couldn’t help the warm little feelings you would get when you were around them. You tried your hardest for a long time to ignore that nagging little feeling, to let it go and pretend it meant nothing, but you found yourself feeling like a schoolgirl around them. You had become very close to them very quickly, and somewhere along the way, you realized how genuinely great they were to you, how they treated you. 

You were perfectly content to leave it at just that, just roommates who cared a lot about each other, but you found yourself longing for more. Especially when you found them snuggling under a blanket on the couch while you all watched a movie together or when you came home to find them napping all together. At first you were jealous in these moments, wanting it to be you instead, but then that feeling grew into longing, realizing that you wanted to be right in the middle of it all with them.

You liked all three of the boys equally, which confused you even more. You couldn’t choose one over the other two and possibly throw off the whole dynamic in the house. And then there was the thought of if it didn’t work out, what then.

So you just decided to hold this secret in, try to let it pass.

“Uh… not really.” You lied, shaking your head. Both Pandora and Dorcas looked at you like they didn’t believe you, but didn’t push any further.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw two figures enter you and the other girl's space. It was the blonde boy- Pandora’s twin Evan, and the boy with black hair with green streaks who you had to remember was named Barty. Evan stayed standing while Barty slinked to a cushion on the floor in front of you three girls.

“What are you three talking about?” Barty asked, smiling broadly. He had a nice smile, laced with boyish mischief and charm. It made him look less intimidating for sure.

“Boys,” Pandora said in a sing-song tone. 

“Oooh,” Barty said at the same time that Evan let out a slight “Gross” and walked away to where Lily and Regulus were talking at the table.

Pandora giggled at her twin’s reaction. “We weren’t talking about my love life.” She explained, still a soft chuckle on her words.

“Then who’s?” Barty asked, looking straight at you.

“No one’s,” you said quickly, “there is no love life.” you thought that the topic was dropped but apparently not.

Both Pandora and Dorcas laughed at your quick outburst. You laughed along with them, it was a bit quick, probably sounded so girlish.

Barty let out a soft chuckle of his own. “No love life, huh?” he smiled at you again. His smile was actually… very nice. He was more handsome the more you looked at him. But he was eyeing you like he was trying to figure something out, figure you out.

“Leaver here be, Bartemius.” Dorcas said from beside you, using what you assumed was his real name.

He just threw his hands up in defense and said “I’m not doing anything.”

She squinted her brown eyes at him, letting out a suspicious “Mmmhm…”

He rolled his eyes in response.

The four of you then broke into conversation about other topics, and you were grateful to leave the topic of love lives behind. You all talked about your music tastes which, to your surprise, all three of them shared with you. You talked about your favorite artists, songs, and what upcoming concerts you were excited for or bummed that you had to miss out on.

This led to Pandora starting a story about a concert she had gone to but then about halfway through remembered something she needed to tell James, so she cut her story short by skipping off into the kitchen to find him. You three laughed at her short attention span, but continued on.

The three of you continued talking about some movies then, until Dorcas claimed that she needed a refill of her drink and made her way to the kitchen as well, leaving just you and Barty.

Barty took Pandora’s place on the couch as you two continued talking. Barty was actually a very nice person. You were a little skeptical because of his more… alternative look, but you found that he was really great to talk to, hardly any lulls in the conversation, he knew exactly what questions to ask or what to say to keep the conversation alive and well. 

You two got onto the topic of growing up, he asked where you lived and what kind of school you went to. He listened intently and showed interest in what you had to say. 

“What about you? Where did you grow up?” you turned his own question on him.

“London,” He replied, “But my father had a house in France as well, so I would try to spend as much time there as possible.”

“France?” you asked, shocked. You could only dream of having a second home, let alone a second home somewhere in France. 

He smirked. “Yeah that’s kind of where me, the Blacks, and the Rosiers grew up.” He said.

“Wait, Sirius grew up in France too?” you asked, again shocked and interested in this new revelation. He replied with a nod. “Well, can you all still speak French?”

“Oui,” he replied. You giggled and continued talking to him about traveling and what it was like to grow up in a different country.

“Well where would you want to live?” He asked.

You smiled, feeling that warm feeling in the pit of your stomach again. “Well, I’m pretty content here.” you explained, eyes focusing on your fingers playing with your new ring that Dorcas gave you. 

“Here?” He asked, sounding baffled. “As in here in this house… with those three?” he nodded to the kitchen where you followed the movement to see Remus, Sirius, and James Standing in the doorway, eyes all on you and Barty. They didn’t look too pleased, but didn’t know the cause.

You turned back to your conversation, smiled and nodded. “I like living here… with them.” you said.

Barty looked at you with what seemed to be realization washing over his face. He looked you over, then looked back to the boys over your shoulder, and back to you. You could tell that he caught on to your meaning. He had figured you out. He smirked and nodded, confirming that he did in fact catch on.

“Please don’t say anything.” you said, ready to plead with him. You shouldn’t have said anything in the first place, you weren’t going to tell Dorcas and Pandora, but here you were spilling your secret to a boy who had buttered you up with stimulating conversation for half an hour. 

He made a motion of zipping his lips. You sighed in relief.

“You’re a lucky girl you know.” was all he said.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“You’re a very pretty girl. I’m sure they would have you happily.” he replied. You couldn’t stop the blush that creeped up your neck and now blotched your face. 

“I-I don’t, uh.. I don’t know what you mean.” you stuttered out, shaking your head and trying to get him to drop it. Again, you had no idea who could hear your conversation. 

“I just mean, I don’t exactly think that they would have been so quick to let you live here, rent free might I add, if they were not into you, beauty.” He said, giving you a pet name. 

“T-they were just doing a good thing, helping me out” you said, unable to gain your composure between the conversation topic and the subtle flirtation that Barty was conveying with that little nickname. 

He looked at you with raised brows. “And being pretty sure helps,” he finished with a wink.

“Helps with what,” you heard Sirius’s voice from your right side. 

Startled, you quickly turned to him. “Oh- Uh, nothing!” you said a beat too fast. Sirius just stared at Barty, suspicion radiating off of him. This felt like a start to a nightmare. One you may or may not have experienced where your secret was revealed and everything went terribly wrong.

“I was just telling her about a date I had last week,” Barty said, holding Sirius’s eye contact with a smirk plastered on his face. “Isn’t that right Y/N, dear?”

“Oh, yeah!” you said, glad to have a good explanation that wouldn’t raise any alarms with Sirius.

“Anyways, I was just going to grab a drink,” Barty announced, giving you a knowing look. “Would you like anything?” he asked you. You shook your head. “Alright then,” He said, standing and clapping Sirius on the shoulder as he passed him.

Sirius took the opportunity to slide into the spot that Barty was previously occupying. “You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” you answered.

“You just seem a little jumpy, that’s all.” Sirius said softly, a trace of worry between his brows.

You took a deep breath and smiled. “Yeah I’m fine just, been talking a lot.” you laughed off the nerves, relaxing into the familiar and easy conversation with Sirius. That warm feeling creeping back in, and you allowed it.

“I know,” He said. “ I noticed you mingling quite a bit tonight, I’m proud. I know meeting all these new people at once could have been daunting, but you’ve done great all night.”

You smiled back at him, then rested your head on his shoulder, a normal act that you had done many times by now, but this time it felt so different. Warm and fuzzy, and all your senses wrapped in something distinctly Sirius. 

You yawned and allowed yourself to shut your eyes for a moment. You were getting tired, all the socializing as well as cooking and decorating beforehand had taken its toll. 

“You tired?” Sirius asked. You nodded, head still on his shoulder. “Good now I have an excuse to kick everyone out.”

You snapped your eyes open, Sirius making to stand up. You giggled and pulled on his arm, pulling him back down onto the couch. “No Siri! You can’t blame it on me!” you laughed.

so... slight marauders jealousy but reader admitted feelings!! as always let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist ❤️

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[ninjatrashpanda]

Jingle All The Way (To The Damn ER)

Written for @bucktommywinterfest

Prompt: Holiday themed calls; Mistletoe Kiss

Rated: G

Tags: established relationship, fluff, holiday shenanigans

Read on AO3 here.

“Well, that’s…” Eddie said the moment the team had arrived and climbed out of the engine.

“Unfortunate,” Hen finished, her eyes fixed on the roof of the house they’d just pulled up to. Buck couldn’t exactly blame her. Up there, surrounded by absurd amounts of fake snow (and some of the most garish Christmas decorations Buck had ever seen), was a rather burly man in a Santa costume, his lower half stuck in a chimney, screaming and shouting out curse after curse. (Some seemingly not even in English, Buck noted. They sounded vaguely German to him, and for a moment he wondered if that made him racist.)

“That’s gotta be a new one,” Chim muttered, squinting up at the struggling Santa. “I mean, we’ve seen plenty of Santas in sticky situations, but this? This takes the fruitcake.”

How did things like these even happen? How did someone look at a chimney and say ‘Oh, yes, I’ll slide down there, no biggie!’ It was absolutely asinine, so completely unhinged and idiotic that Buck’s brain hardly was able to comprehend the thought process it must’ve taken this guy to end up where he did.

Then again, Buck probably really shouldn’t judge people for making harebrained decisions.

“Do you think he realizes that he probably would’ve busted his ankles if he’d actually slid down there?” Eddie asked, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. The team’s radios crackled with a faint background hum, the absurdity of the scene almost enough to make them forget they were here on an actual call.

Buck tilted his head, stepping forward, his eyes narrowed. The more he looked at the scene, the more unreal it seemed. He decided to reconsider his earlier thought. He was allowed to judge, cause even he wasn’t lacking foresight this hard. “Is it just me, or does that chimney look way too small for him to have even considered crawling through it in the first place?”

“It’s not just you,” Bobby, who now rounded the engine to join the team, said, reaching for his radio. “Dispatch, Engine 118 is on scene. We have one victim, male, age seems to be mid to late forties. Victim appears to be stuck. And dressed as Santa.”

There was a pause before Dispatch answered, the crackle of static barely covering what Buck could’ve sworn was a snort of laughter. “Copy that, 118,” came Josh’s slightly strained response. Buck noticed Bobby side-eyeing his radio, but he couldn’t bring himself to blame Josh. He’d be laughing too if he wasn’t on this call professionally. “Please confirm: is the scene secure, and do you need additional resources?”

“I don’t know, maybe a team of reindeer to pull him out?” Chim called up toward the house, earning him a glare from Hen, who was probably already assessing what kind of injuries this guy could’ve suffered from…well, this.

“Scene’s secure,” Bobby said, ignoring Chim’s antics, and exchanging another couple of words with Josh. Then, he turned to the crew. “Buck, Eddie, grab the ladder and all the lube we have. Hen, Chim, get ready to check this guy out as soon as they get him down here.”

Buck shook his head as he jogged over to the rig to get the lube, their victim’s voice calling out every swear under the sun. “You know, for a guy playing Santa, he’s not exactly spreading holiday cheer up there.”

From the roof, Santa’s voice rang out, muffled but clearly annoyed. “I can hear you, you know!”

“Good!” Chim called back, a slightly catty edge to his voice. “Then you’ll be delighted to know we’re here to rescue your jolly behind!”

Eddie followed Buck to grab the ladder while Hen remained firmly planted, hands on her hips, staring up at Santa like he was her children’s math homework she was trying to help them with. “How did you not realize this is a terrible idea before you got halfway in?”

“I bet you he lost a dare,” Chim said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “There’s no way this guy just looked at that chimney and thought, ‘Yeah, I can make it.’”

Raising an eyebrow, Hen turned toward Chim and let out a small huff, “I’m sorry, but should you of all people make fun of that? Should I remind you of why we call you ‘Chimney?’”

Chim’s grin faltered for just a second, and Hen’s smirk grew triumphant. “Low blow, Hen,” he retorted, though his tone was light. “But, for the record, I didn’t willingly wedge myself in anything. I was an innocent victim of faulty construction.”

“Sure, Chim,” Hen said, her tone making it clear she didn’t believe him. She turned her attention back to the roof, where Santa continued to struggle, his efforts achieving nothing but a faint creaking noise from the chimney that made everyone on the ground cringe.

“Why am I not surprised?” Buck muttered, setting up the ladder and turning to Eddie. “Come on. Let’s get Santa out of there before he Tim Allens himself.”

Eddie planted his hands on the ladder to keep it steady as Buck began to climb. “Think he’ll go on the naughty list for this?”

“Not if we save him before Hen smacks some sense into him,” Buck called down, his voice lighthearted as he worked his way up toward the roof.

From below, Hen sighed and shook her head, her exasperation at Santa finally getting to her. “One of these days, I’m going to get through a shift without an incident that makes me question humanity.”

“Today is not that day,” Eddie replied, barely stifling his grin.

“Yeah, well,” Hen said, watching Buck hoist himself onto the roof, “let’s just hope Santa’s dignity is the only thing that got bruised tonight.”

As Buck reached the chimney, he peered down at the man’s awkwardly wedged body. This was worse than he had expected. Like he’d thought, the man’s stomach was plugging up the chimney entirely, but he hadn’t predicted the small cracks that were forming all around the top of the shaft, some of which already ran up to halfway down the sides. “Okay, big guy, hang tight. We’re gonna get you out of here, but try not to move too much.”

“Believe me,” Santa grumbled, a deadpan expression on his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, that much is obvious,” Buck said under his breath, before reaching for his radio. “Uh, Cap? Send Eddie up here with the tools. This is a two-man job at least and the lube’s not gonna cut it.”

Chim’s voice chimed in immediately. “Santa’s had one too many cookies, huh?”

“Not helping, Chim,” Buck shot back, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

This was going to be a long shift.

🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄

“So this is not what we usually get called in for.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow at the, frankly, ridiculous scene in front of him. Somehow, a guy on skis had managed to not only crash into the giant Christmas tree that had been set up right by the main lodge, the guy had somehow managed to get himself completely tangled up in the lights, which still blinked in all colors of the rainbow.

In all his life as a soldier, a firefighter and now a rescue pilot, Tommy had never seen something this idiotic before.

“How did this even happen?” he asked the manager of the resort, a woman who appeared to be in her late thirties, who wore a sharp, dark grey pantsuit. To her credit, she seemed just as exasperated as he felt.

“I wish I knew,” the manager replied, pressing two fingers to her temple as if she were fighting off a migraine. “All I got was a frantic call from one of the lodge staff saying there was ’a skier emergency’ and that I should ‘bring someone who knows how to untangle knots.’” She gestured toward the blinking, flailing mess of a man. “I didn’t expect this.”

Tommy let out a long sigh and turned back to the scene. The skier, who was now groaning softly, looked like a particularly unfortunate ornament hung by an overzealous child. The man’s goggles were askew, his skis were pointing in entirely different directions, and his jacket, a garish neon green, made him look like an elf who’d lost a fight with Santa’s workshop.

“Is he…conscious?” Tommy asked, squinting.

“Yep, sure is,” García, one of the paramedics of the 217 he’d flown up here said. She straightened up and pulled her gloves on tighter. “Hey, Kinard, can you get me a backboard? I feel like we’re gonna need to tie this guy down even if he somehow managed not to break his spine.”

“On it,” Tommy replied with a sigh, and headed back to his chopper. He still wasn’t sure just how this could’ve possibly happened. He had a sinking suspicion that alcohol had played a part, but he kept that to himself, instead silently grabbing the backboard from the back of the helicopter.

He trudged back through the snow, (If the way the artificial stuff felt under his boots was anything to go on, he would absolutely despise real snow.) a soft hum under his breath. The resort’s cheery Christmas music (now an unfortunate backdrop to this circus) had invaded his brain and wouldn’t leave it for probably the rest of his shift (or a week later. Or a month. Or a goddamn year).

As Tommy handed the backboard over to García, he crouched down to get a better look at the skier. “Alright, buddy, you with us?” he asked, his voice sharp but not unkind.

The man groaned again and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “The tree came out of nowhere.”

Tommy blinked. “The tree came out of nowhere?” He exchanged a look with García, who rolled her eyes and smirked, biting her lip.

“I swear it did,” the skier slurred, his head lolling slightly to the side. “One minute, skiing. Next minute, tree.”

Tommy sighed, a sound that felt like it came straight from his soul. “Yeah, I’m sure the tree leapt right out to grab you. Happens all the time.” He shot a glance at the manager, who snorted softly but quickly disguised it as a cough. She was clearly trying to keep her professional veneer intact, but her expression betrayed her amusement.

García got to work, carefully cutting away a few strands of the blinking lights that had wound tightly around the man’s torso. “This guy’s tangled worse than my Abuela’s Christmas lights,” she muttered.

“Don’t disrespect your Abuela,” Tommy quipped. “At least she didn’t knock over the tree.”

The skier let out a low groan. “I’m never drinking eggnog again…”

Ah, there it was. Tommy resisted the urge to say, called it, and focused on the task at hand. “Look, pal, we’re gonna get you out of here, but I need you to stay still. Can you do that?”

The skier didn’t respond directly, but he gave a lazy thumbs-up that didn’t inspire much confidence.

“Great,” García muttered. “Kinard, help me stabilize him before we move him.”

Tommy stepped in to assist, holding the backboard steady as García and the other paramedic carefully maneuvered the man’s limbs. The lights resisted, clinging stubbornly to the skier as if they were part of some cosmic punishment for his sins against Christmas decor. It took some creative maneuvering and a few choice curses from García before the last of the lights finally snapped free.

Once the skier was secured to the backboard, Tommy stood up and dusted the snow off his pants. “Alright, let’s load him up. We’ll fly him down to the hospital for a once-over.”

The manager stepped closer, looking at the still-blinking lights strewn across the snow like abandoned tinsel. “What about…all this?” She gestured vaguely at the scene of destruction.

Tommy shrugged. “I’d say leave it. It’ll make for a great story. ‘The Tree Incident of 2024.’ You could make it an annual thing, build some buzz.”

The manager shot him a flat look. “I think we’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself.” He turned back toward the helicopter, falling in line behind the paramedics carrying the backboard. “Let’s get Bode Miller here some help before he decides to start singing carols.”

As they walked, the skier managed to lift his head just enough to croak out one final, utterly sincere question: “But…did I win?”

Tommy couldn’t stop himself. He grinned. “Oh, buddy. You definitely won.”

🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄

“Dispatch, this is engine 118,” Bobby spoke into his radio, snapping the rest of the crew into Business Mode. “We’re pulling up on scene.”

The truck came to a halt outside a large community center, which seemed almost normal and boring. Except for the plumes of smoke coming out of one of the windows. Buck groaned and rolled his eyes. He hoped this wasn’t an actual fire, or at least that the window had already been opened by the time it started, because he didn’t know how he’d react if he found out someone in there had opened a window on a fire.

“Copy that, 118,” the dispatcher’s voice (Maddie this time) came through their radios as they all rushed to grab their gear. “Community Christmas Baking Event, one of the ovens caught fire. The 217 is on scene, Captain Chen is IC, he’ll give you more details.”

Buck’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the 217, but he quickly shrugged it off. Sure, running into his boyfriend on the job would be nice, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Besides, Tommy was on helicopter duty today anyway. He was way up in the sky, riding his bird through the clouds and saving lives by bringing victims to the hospital far faster than an ambo ever could.

It brought a sigh to Buck’s lips as he jogged after Eddie and into the building at Captain Chen’s command, the same love struck one he always seemed to sigh when he thought about Tommy and his effortless coolness, and big heart, and dashing good looks. (And especially the cleft. God, did he love that cleft!) Less than a year ago, he hadn’t even known he was into men, and now here he was, happily, knowingly in love with the very same one who had blasted his closet door open with all the force of the hurricane they’d flown into when they had met.

The smell of burnt sugar and smoke hit Buck like a fist to the face as soon as he and Eddie entered the community center, every thought of Tommy instantly pushed to the back of his mind as he went into rescue mode. Eddie was already barking orders to one of the event organizers, a frazzled woman in a holiday sweater that had seen better days, while Buck took in the scene.

The lobby was a chaos of flour-dusted people, from crying children to panicked adults to people from the 217 trying to evacuate everyone, and a steady stream of smoke curling out of the kitchen at the far end of the hall. Buck followed Eddie through the hall, their boots clomping against the polished floor as they approached the kitchen door, quickly checking every frazzled bystander for injuries before urging them to leave the building already.

“Cap, this is Diaz, we’ve got thick smoke but no visible flames yet,” Eddie reported over his shoulder. “Kitchen is at the end of the main hallway. Looks like the sprinkler system hasn’t gone off.”

“At least the fire’s contained, then,” Bobby’s voice crackled through the radio. “Chen said two of his men are already in the kitchen, Hayes and Kinard. Assist them however they need.”

Buck’s brain came to a screeching halt. Kinard? Did Bobby just say Kinard?! His heart thudded in his chest, and he nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself just before Eddie noticed his sudden shift in demeanor. Kinard. Bobby had said Kinard. Tommy’s here. The realization brought a wide grin to Buck’s face at the thought of seeing his boyfriend in action, all big, and tough, and competent. He didn’t have time to process it, though, as he and Eddie reached the kitchen door, where the thick haze of smoke was quickly becoming stifling.

Eddie pushed it open, and they were greeted by chaos. Two firefighters from the 217 were already inside, one, Hayes according to his turnout jacket, directing a fire extinguisher toward an oven that was the apparent source of the problem, while the other worked to move large trays of baked goods away from the immediate area. The oven in question was blackened, with flames licking at its edges, a few stray flames dotted around the floor.

“Buckley! Diaz!” Hayes called out, practically bombarding the oven with foam. “We could use another set of hands on this.”

“On it,” Eddie shouted briskly, moving toward him. Buck’s eyes, however, had already met the other firefighters, and for a moment, it was as if everything around them didn’t even exist.

There he was, helmet on, jacket slightly singed, cleft chin invisible under the oxygen mask, but just knowing it was there and waiting for him to come kiss it made Buck weak in the knees. Tommy’s eyes widened in surprise, but he recovered quickly. “Evan,” he called, and Buck couldn’t put his finger on why, but his voice sounded…hot. Hotter. Or something. He wasn’t sure what it was, just that he really wanted to tear the turnouts off of Tommy, fire and smoke be damned. “What are the odds?”

Buck managed a lopsided grin (that he knew Tommy would’ve loved if he only could have seen it!), his heart pounding a mile a minute. Tommy, all professional, and sooty and goddammit, Buck could almost smell the musk radiating off of him from over here. “Right?” he somehow brought out with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “It seems so unlikely!”

Tommy gave a quick shake of his head, exasperation evident in the way his eyes crinkled even under the helmet, but there was an unmistakable fondness too. “Focus up, Buckley,” he said, and if Buck wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the edges of his voice. “There’s still an oven fire to handle, and I’m pretty sure Captain Nash won’t appreciate me distracting his star firefighter.”

“Oh, I’m the star now?” Buck shot back, already moving to sort out the flames on the ground while Eddie and Hayes double-timed the burning oven. He could feel the warmth of Tommy’s presence nearby, but there was a job to do here, so he couldn’t even bask in it.

“Always have been,” Tommy replied, the words so casual Buck nearly choked on the laugh that bubbled out of him, all while Tommy had already turned his attention back to the task at hand with all the casualness the situation allowed. It was like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Buck’s overactive heart, and that only made him more feral inside.

“Hey!” Eddie barked, snapping Buck back into focus. “Quit flirting and help us!”

Right. Fire. Job. Professionalism.

Finished with the smaller fires, Buck moved to assist Hayes and Eddie with the oven, which turned out to be a much bigger problem than they had anticipated. Together, they aimed for the stubborn flames that were trying to escape the oven, working in tandem to snuff them out. The smoke was thick and cloying, stinging Buck’s eyes even through his mask, but the blaze was already starting to die down. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tommy check the rest of the appliances for damage and ensure no other hotspots could reignite, causing another swell of pure affection and, frankly, borderline horniness to rush through Buck’s body.

The team worked efficiently, their movements seamless and practiced. Within minutes, the immediate danger was contained, the oven reduced to a smoldering mess. Eddie called it in to Bobby while Hayes and Tommy began assessing the kitchen’s ventilation system to clear the remaining smoke.

Buck busied himself by checking out (and mourning) the remaining trays of half-burnt cookies and pies, but his mind kept wandering to Tommy. It was surreal seeing him here, grounded instead of flying high above the chaos. Buck had always admired the cool confidence Tommy exuded in the air, but now he was seeing it up close, in action on the ground.

Once the kitchen was declared safe, the teams began packing up their gear. The smoke was thinning, though the acrid smell of burnt sugar lingered in the air. Buck caught Tommy leaning against the wall, his helmet tucked under one arm, looking as composed as ever despite the soot smudged across his cheek.

“So,” Buck said, sidling up to him, “what’s it like working with your feet on the ground for a change?”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, that smirk reappearing. “Not bad. Less turbulence, more smoke. And I get to run into you.”

Buck chuckled, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks despite himself. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Yeah, I had to fill in for Callahan. Broke his arm on a call this morning,” Tommy said casually. “Guess I was meant to be here.” He tilted his head, his gaze softening. “You okay? You look a little... out of it.”

“I’m fine,” Buck said quickly, though his heart still hadn’t entirely settled. “It’s just that you don’t meet an absolutely irresistible beast while out on a call.”

Tommy’s smirk grew. “Ah, so I made you look like a lovesick puppy. Figures. I have that effect on people.”

Eddie’s voice cut through their moment. “Buck! We’re wrapping up. Let’s go.”

Buck flinched at the sudden intrusion of his and Tommy’s bubble, and he quickly shot his partner a venomous look, (not that Eddie seemed to care much, judging by the exasperated expression) before turning back to Tommy.

“Duty calls,” he said with a shrug, but he hesitated before stepping away. “I’ll see you later?”

Tommy gave him a small, private smile, the kind that made Buck’s heart flutter in a way that still felt new and thrilling. And then, without a warning, he placed his fingers under Buck’s jaw, his thumb brushing over his chin, before pulling him in.

Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, one that sent a shockwave of warmth through Buck’s body. Almost instinctively, Buck grabbed Tommy’s hips to pull him closer, any space being between them making him feel like he was suffocating. He craved the heat of Tommy’s body, the firmness of his chest, even the smell of smoke and burned gingerbread in his hair.

Despite Buck’s excruciating hunger, he didn’t try to deepen the kiss beyond the chaste, soft peck it was. He wanted to, of course, the craving to rip Tommy’s turnouts off never having gone away, but he knew none of that was something they could do right now. Even just this was highly unprofessional and probably shouldn’t ever have happened, though Buck couldn’t possibly care less about it. His hot boyfriend was hot, and he had initiated smooch time, and Buck was only a man.

Tommy pulled back after a moment, his smirk softening into something tender, and Buck’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes found Tommy’s watching him with that familiar sparkle of pure, unadulterated love.

“Uh, what was that?” Buck chuckled. He tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help the smile that started to creep onto his face. “That wasn’t very…I don’t think Captain Chen and Captain Nash would approve of…”

“I think they would,” Tommy cut him off with a shrug. “You know, just this once. We were legally obligated to, after all.”

At Buck’s quizzical look, he simply pointed upward. Buck followed the gesture, tilting his head back to look up. And his heart nearly stopped. Hanging above them, just barely visible amidst the smoke and the still-swirling chaos of the kitchen, was a small sprig of mistletoe. It was a little toasty, but most of it, including the shiny, bright red bow tied around it, had miraculously survived.

He blinked at it, then back at Tommy, who was now grinning fully, his teeth flashing white despite the soot smudged on his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Buck muttered, feeling his cheeks heat up even more. “Mistletoe? In the middle of a kitchen?”

Tommy shrugged, his expression infuriatingly nonchalant. “Rules are rules, babe.”

Buck let out a half-laugh, half-scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.” Tommy repliplied, wiggling his eyebrow. And really, Buck couldn’t argue with that logic, but before he could respond, Eddie’s voice echoed sharply through the kitchen doorway.

“Buck! Seriously, let’s go!”

Buck groaned, giving Tommy one last lingering look. “Duty calls. Again. I’ll see you later?”

“Of course,” Tommy said, his voice warm, his smirk softening into something gentler. “Go save the world, babe.”

Buck pulled Tommy into one more short hug and planted a quick peck to his lips before turning around and jogging over to the door, always aware of the fond expression Tommy watched him with. As he followed Eddie back out the building and to the truck, he couldn’t keep the grin off his face, even as Eddie shot him a knowing look.

“Don’t,” Buck said preemptively, waving his hand around. “Not. A. Word.”

Eddie smirked. “Didn’t say anything.”

But he didn’t need to. Buck knew what his own face looked like right now, the power Tommy had over him no secret to him. It wasn’t like he cared much, either. He’d been the happiest he had ever been this past year, and if this continued, well.

He wasn’t going to complain.

[peydawgz]

So ummm....may i request a Hazard x Reader, and reader helps with fine tuning and maintenance on Haz's arm and legs and other cyborg bits (cybits? idk his none fleshy parts). It's soooo qjhfjsiajnsbjiaodhshaksk

[your works are *chefs kiss* and honestly, i shall binge on the feast]

Bruh I done spent a whole day writing this,, all for you my spicy little sun rays,, feast upon THIS!!!!

Hazard found himself flying through the battlefield, hydraulically jumping over enemies to capture his target. He used his large gun arm as a blunt object to bludgeon with, multiple dents as heads continuously crashed against it. The lasers he shot at them were off centered and wild, but he tried to play it off. He was primal, scratching and biting when his gun arm inevitably fell off. He could only shield his team with his vanadium spikes near the end of the battle. He was left more vulnerable than ever, but at least they won, right? The parts are replaceable after all.

The truth is, Fin was struggling out there. His heart couldn’t handle the amount of adrenaline he needed to keep on pushing. The same old parts just weren’t working, leading him to be uncomfortable with his body even more. His teammates help pick up his bits, and settled him into the van. He was trying to be still, but the waves of stress kept coming over him. With his one arm, his hand bloody and shaking he reaches into his leather coat pocket and pulls out a smoke. He rolls down the window,,, just staring on and trying to think.

He noticed that they weren’t driving back to the lair, giving him more anxiety. “Aye, where ya takin us?” He asked. “Look. You need some relaxation, big guy. You keep doing this to yourself, you need to chill. You literally fought your own ass off today, what’s up with that?” Susie makes him shut down a little, like he hasn’t even thought of the fact, but he does chuckle a little. They were all visibly worried about him.

“Alright, ah’ll try. ’m sorry for scarin’ ya.” He admits. When the van pulls up, one runs inside. He doesn’t even know where he is, it looks like they’re in someone’s garage. When they come back, there you are with big work goggles on. He’s enamored by you, the way you smile when you greet him. He didn’t even hear anything you were really saying, it was like his eyes were fixated on you and there was beautiful music in his ears. Suddenly your arms are around him and he’s floating in a dream, giggling to himself.

In reality, you’re just settling him into a wheelchair. “Findlay?” He hears you call his name, looking up. “You alright? You don’t have any brain damage or anything, do you?” You try to shine a light in his eyes, and he sort of snaps out his lovesickness. “Oh, na brain damage. Juist heartache.” He says with a pretty grin.

Your mutual friends are giggling amongst each other, and they’re already betting on the outcome of this interaction. You were just a helpful mechanic, and had a few of your own body mods as well. You’d helped a couple of their team with their tech before, but you were unfamiliar with the big guy other than hearing about him. Hazard is very flirtatious, and although tempting you’ve gotta focus. You bid the other Phreaks goodbye and help Fin into your home/workshop. You have all of his parts laid out on a table already, mangled and twisted as hell.

Your hands were all over him, checking measurements for new parts and fitting different equipment onto his body. “So… what’s yer name?” He asked, and you responded, “Y/N.”

“Oh ye, A've heard yer name around afore. Ye mist be good at yer job!” He says, watching you. That tension from before was lifted away by your angelic fingertips. There was a comfort that you brought to the room. Your place was very cool as well, he’d never seen such an extensive arrangement of tools before.

He chatted with you as you worked on his gear, telling you lots of funny stories and making you laugh. It seemed like his life was full of adventure, he had so much to say about his time in training camps and stories about his friends. When he asked, you told him the story of how you earned your robotic limb. You’d done something courageous to make an effort to save someone else instead of yourself in an accident. He could relate to your pain, and reminded you that the Phreaks would always have a place for you.

“Ye'r fàilte tae hang around mah lot. In fact, ye'r an honorary member already wi' ye helping us out all th' time.” He means well, and you appreciate the offer. “I spent a lot of work to fix up this place to how it is now, I’m not ready to walk away from it. You’re always welcome back here too!” You smile at him. You’re a great listener considering his big mouth. You get his sense of humor, and you don’t have to ask him to repeat himself too much.

You took a little lunch break together, and offered him some of your snacks. You showed him your living area, and he met your animal companion. He has his own dog shared between him and his mates. He is polite and thanks you for the meal, and you reply that it’s no trouble.

Two more hours of work passed by very quickly with more chatting, that slowly twisted into flirting. You stood beside him in his seated position, piecing him back together. His large frame was bent to your every will, telling him to move this way and that. He was like a puppy, following your every command in hope of a treat.

You knelt down, your hand holding his nubby leg and attaching new parts on. You looked over his tattoos and asked about them, interested in their meanings. You showed him so much care throughout the whole process, he was lucky to have you. He was put back together properly, and you helped him up out of the chair to stand on his own two feet again. His hands lingered in yours for a bit longer than intended, and he was towering above you, looking into your eyes with a happy expression.

When you moved back, he expressed his great condition by flexing for you and doing some moves, which you enjoyed. He was very ripped, nearly busting out of the leather jacket he wore. “This is th' best a've felt in ages!” He exclaimed as he explored his new limits. Your additions added a much needed comfort to his parts, and perhaps now he wouldn’t get so beat up now that he had something to appreciate.

He couldn’t help himself but give you a big ol hug, you were surrounded in his hefty arms as he picked you up in the process. You were just happy to help him, and wanted to see him at his best again. He was powerful like this now, and he had a new confidence to bring home with him. He stuck around a little while longer to express his gratitude, and he told you he’d be back again soon.

You missed him a little once he was gone,, a lot of people acted too punk to talk to you, or rude so they could show off to your friends. He was one of a kind, truly on your side. Maybe it was a mirage and he was showing you his nice side, like so many others have manipulated you. You were worried when you should have been happy at the gift he left on your doorstep- a potted plant along with some treats for your animal, and a little handwritten note. You missed him when he came knocking on your door-but he’ll come back to see what you think.

It lingered on your mind, as you watered the plant and found a spot for it, what his true intentions were. You’d find out, soon enough.

It was late at night, and you were drifting asleep when suddenly an alarm was triggered. You looked up at the clock, confused at first before you realize it’s a burglar, a crash coming from within the house. You shoot out of bed, grabbing something to defend yourself with and head out. For a second, in your sleepy state you thought it would be Hazard.

“Haz?” You called out, turning a light on one after one. Your animal was hissing/growling at the closed door to the garage. You moved it behind you,listening to the crashing around and the alarm screaming, before opening the door. At the same time, Hazard had made his way through the front door appearing at the same moment you locked eyes with the robber.

Your weapon pointed at them, and they dropped theirs along with everything they intended to steal. They looked terrified of you, but when you looked behind you Hazard was there. His metal gun pointed right between their eyes.

He defends you and your sanctuary, protecting what is rightfully yours and sending this scumbag a painful message. The robber got thrown out to deal with the authorities, and you were left shaken up, trying to laugh it off with Hazard at your side.

“Thanks for helping me deal with that,, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You take him into a hug, grateful to have him.

“Aye, yer welcome. Am glad I checked on ya. Wha’ you think o my gift?” He leans into your welcoming touch. The way you were so soft, treating him the same was melting his heart. You’re feeling the same energy- he is not as scary as he presents himself, and you feel a new warmth that once was not there.

“The plant is very pretty, it’s up in my window. My pet also really liked the snacks. I love it,,, I don’t get gifts very often.”

He pats your head in a loving manner, and helps you clean up the mess. You see now, these actions are his way of showing you he means no harm. He’s honestly trying to to show his gratitude for all you’ve done. After it’s all cleaned up, it’s just you and him in the dimly lit space.

You try to reassure him you’ll be okay, but he seems worried about your well-being after the stunt with the burglar. You eventually ask if he wants to stay the night, and he accepts. You were joking at first, but he actually said yes.

So you lay on the couch with him at your side, watching a movie as you share a snack. You end up falling asleep against him and he doesn’t want to move an inch in fear of making you uncomfortable. You’re as cute as a kitten, your body in a circle shape snuggled against his side. His arm rests on your back, and he leans his head back, falling asleep shortly in time.

You wake up cuddled up like Hazard’s teddy bear. The fluffy blanket covers you both and your animal is sound asleep under your legs. Fin is awake with his eyes closed, enjoying this nice soft moment he didn’t think he’d get to have. His gun arm is unattached and laying on the floor. He feels your fingers caress over his shape, running over his hard muscles and shoulders before resting on his cheek. His eyes open and you look at each other, sharing the moment of waking up together. You smile, and you both begin to laugh before he moves in to steal a kiss.

You’re startled, even though you saw this coming, you embraced it anyways. Your heart was racing just from the little peck, it felt so good to be loved. You smooch him back, in a swift motion before you climb over him and off the couch. Loving him just came naturally to you, you hoped this was a sign things were meant to be.

“A’ll take ya to get breakfast, love. Maybe we could have a lil’ date?” He pulls you back into his chest for another cuddle. He’ll treat you good until he runs out of everything, you mean a lot to him.

[amayabikuni]

All of the personalized care for top drop is very much the same as far as likes and dislikes when you're endorphins are crashing, but I do want to point out! It is very under addressed the specific emotional stuff associated with top drop, so just some pointers:

A lot of sub drop information addresses the emotions from the submissive point of view, like feeling trapped or unloved. The top drop side has different associated emotions/feelings/impulsive thoughts. Not everyone has these, sometimes it's just purely sadnes, but just in case!

People with top drop often feel extremely concerned that they hurt their partner or went too far, even if their partner gave no signals or indications of that. It is also common to suddenly feel like a monster for enjoying their side of it. And i know a lot of times there is a sense of impending doom, like you're just waiting for something to go wrong, or for someone to finally admit something went wrong, again with no reason/sign of such a thing. I've also noticed a lot of top drop go unaddressed because they feel like they don't "deserve" after care, so that is definitely something you should keep an eye on!

If you are talking with a partner about needs in such after care situations, you may consider having them affirm that you did what they wanted, they aren't actually mad/angry/hurt/etc and that you did a good job and so on. Personal care could involve audio or written affirmations that you're still a good person and no one hates you, and that you didn't do anything wrong etc.

Sometimes you gotta hear someone else say it to believe it and that's fine! Being safe and taken care of is mutual to both parties in any kind of sex/kink act, and that includes your mental health. If any of the emotional side applies to your situation, I highly reccomend taking to your partner(s) about what it is they could tell you to make you feel better when you're experiencing top drop ❤️

Hello Mx. Batman! Sometimes when my partner and I have sex that incorporates more dominant and submissive dynamics I find that as the dominant partner I sometimes experience a weird low or sadness after? I know about sub drop and was wondering if you had any information on a similar experience for those in dominant roles? When I try looking it up I don’t find much, and I don’t ever find much info on how to actually do anything about it. I know obviously communicating with my partner is key and I try to as much as I can but it’s hard when I feel like I don’t have words or information to understand it myself.

hi anon,

well it's exactly the same thing except you're experiencing the drop as a dom. you've also just done a very intense and demanding thing, you're having the same response. the advice for you is the same as the advice for anyone experiencing a drop after sex, which is to identify what you need in that time help you recalibrate and ease your way back down - time alone, lots of cuddles, a hot shower, a good meal, whatever - and incorporate that into your care practice accordingly.

[violetdisasterzone]

THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE THE TIME WAR BY AMAL EL-MOHTAR AND MAX GLADSTONE

NO SPOILERS - CROSS-POSTED ON GOODREADS

RATING: 3.8/4

This has been on my TBR for a very long time, and I will be the first to admit that my anticipation combined with the sheer amount of raving recommendations likely has much to do with my initial disappointment, or at least dissatisfaction, when I began reading. For about the first 75 pages, I was fighting to stay engaged; while the basic premise is not too difficult to grasp - two factions at war, time traveling agents fighting to realize certain events and disperse others to suit their needs and advance their teams' missions - "what else?" was a lingering question on my mind, because that brief description is, in fact, all the information we ever receive. Red and Blue's later communications reveal bits and pieces of background information as to the nature of their respective organizations, but the lack of any concrete worldbuilding was disorienting and, to be honest, uninteresting. I found myself perpetually waiting, for what I don't know. For a plot to be woven from all these strands, for all the blood they'd been spilling to give life to something that could make this story more than just a vessel for Red and Blue to find each other through. Neither of these happened, and this dissatisfaction remained an aftertaste in my mouth all the way through the end of the novel.

Somewhere around page 100, the confusion lessened not because anything was revealed, but because this world we've found ourselves in is well and truly irrelevant outside of keeping our protagonists apart, their missions losing all purpose (if they had any in the first place - we certainly wouldn't know) outside of acting as conduits for their letters. The fact that they are bioengineered immortal time-travelling mercenaries for unknown, chaotic entities fighting an interdimensional time war has basically no importance*, which is not something I thought I'd ever say about a book about two bioengineered immortal time-travelling mercenaries fighting in an interdimensional time war. And yet here we are.

*Though it may be largely irrelevant to the novel as a whole, I acknowledge that these roles are the very core of both Red and Blue's characters - it's more than what they do, it's who they are. Being non-human entities forged for this sole purpose and having millennia of experience acting only as these agents has a direct hand in their feelings for and interactions with each other.

I am a romantic at heart, and heaven knows I've been pretentious enough times to be called a hypocrite for saying this, but their letters were absolutely dripping in flowery prose and elaborate, lengthy metaphors. I'll admit that many lines, particularly toward the end, had my heart fluttering, but in equal measure I often found it difficult to wade through the dense, sickly-sweet language the authors clearly prefer.

Red and Blue also seemed to enjoy a fair amount of violent implications in their romance, intended metaphorically or literally I could never quite tell. Whether this was due to their un-human natures or simply my own differing preferences, this at certain points rendered their relationship just as confusing as the rest of the novel. I did, however, ultimately find their unconventional relationship sweet enough to excuse the honey-dipped-in-sugar (and dipped again in blood) prose through which their love story was written.

I've still chosen to give this a fairly high rating because despite my many critiques, I did enjoy myself in the last two-thirds, and I found myself charmed by our protagonists despite how little we really knew of them, and I found their love and loyalty for each other believable and sweet. The authors' choices were bold, and though I may have gripes with their execution, I admire their creativity and ingenuity.

[thevirgodoll]

to all of my dolls finding themselves:

originality is the "aesthetic" you are looking for. individuality is the "it factor" you are looking for. from your personality, pieces, hair, cadence of voice...even down to your favorite foods or special interests. you aren't supposed to change every aspect about yourself to be more palatable for everyone you meet. that actually makes you BORING!!!

"but so and so is doing this" "but what if people don't like it" ... so??? don't take people disliking your aesthetic as a sign that you need to do something different. like, of course they don't like it or have second thoughts - it's because THEY wouldn't do it themselves because it wouldn't go with THEIR given aesthetic. HELLOO??????

unless they are like minded, stop asking other people to weigh in on the things you CLEARLY like about yourself. especially if it's a core personality trait or interest. your LIFE isn't a group project. your LIFE is not a co-op game.

and yes... people will try to force you to assimilate and follow the crowd by speaking misfortune on your rebrand, your expression, your hobbies, your chosen path out of jealousy. however, that jealousy is lowkey unspoken respect for the fact you have the candor to go against homogeneity.

your authentic dedication to everything that makes you YOU is what will bring you the illustrious life you so fervently seek in the end...not some book a celebrity wrote or a youtube video. it's in YOUR DNA to be a star already in anything you want to do.

there isn't one tutorial on this world wide web that will help you if you don't realize you have the components within you first. there is NOTHING wrong with you!!! you are EVERYTHING that is right already!!!

NEVER conform to the way they think you should shine.

[squuote]

I know I’ve already made a post about the parable but I do wanna also say I adore how on first glance, it’s a generic office setting until you start actually observing it closely. but more specifically the way the white glow from the windows is meant to be like, sunlight shining into the building. but then when you finally pause to take a peak of the outside world, you’re only to be met with a seemingly never ending white void. idk perhaps I am focusing so much on such a small thing but it’s just. such a thing to process. the way everything is so normal when you don’t look into the small details.

[moeblob]

OK I swear the reason I'm showing you this will have context in a couple days! But also, the fact B&N has a section dedicated to "well he may be a ten buuuuut" and included my current crime of "he's blonde" is like. Dang. Called out.

Didn't help I saw this with a guy and I said "oh no, my blonde enjoyer crimes called out!" and he said "better than redheads" and I'm like. "Sir, I have to inform you of my previous crime." and he was not pleased as he said "Fish... why....."

[medicinemane]

.

[kuiinncedes]

:|

[fadeintoyou1993]

woke up again. had another nightmare AGAIN

[reki-rixt]

I feel like at this point I’m not even willingly watching Miraculous, I just randomly see edits on Instagram, check the comments, and go “there’s no fucking way that happened”

And then I have no choice but to watch the show to see if the nonsense is true (it always is)

[screamingbluepanda]

Rant/Venting in tags just really needed to scream somewhere

[snekdood]

i think im allowed to assume someones consuming their kinks in a harmful-to-others way if I have first hand experience with them sexually abusing me, personally.

[homunculus-argument]

I actually really like the thing when you're starting to get the hang of a new language, enough to understand and say simple sentences but you gotta get creative to get more complex thoughts across, like a puzzle. I remember a time in the restortation school when a classmate who wasn't natively finnish but did her best anyway dropped something and sighed, telling me "every day is monday this week. I have had four mondays this week." And I understood.

I don't think I speak much of spanish anymore, but in the nursing school training period I did there, I did manage to get by with making weird Tarzan sentences. I got a nosebleed at some point and startled another nurse. Not knowing the words for "nosebleed", "humidity", or "stress", I managed to string together: "This is ok. It is hot, it is cold, I have a bad day, I am sad, I have blood. This is normal for me." And she understood.

And sometimes you just say things weird, but it's better than not saying it. One time, I was stuck in a narrow hallway behind someone walking really slowly with a walker, and he apologised for being in the way. I was not in any hurry, but didn't know the spanish word for "hurry", but I did know enough words to try to circumvent it by borrowing the english "I have all the time in the world."

The man burst into one of those cackling old man laughters that they do when something in this world still manages to surprise them. He had to be somewhere between 70 and a 100 years old, and I guess if there was one thing he wasn't expecting to hear today, it would be a random blond vaguely baltic-looking fuck casually announce that he is the sole keeper and master of the very concept of time.

[yongseungkim]

.